[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]

Standing in front of the newly refurbished pokemon center, bailey cooper was reminded that the reconstruction of slateport was still taking place. Little by little, day by day, the damage wrought by rocket was being unwound.[break][break]

She remembered how this street had been reduced to piles of concrete and mortar. Now, an effort had been made to restore it to its former glory. Scars could only be found if someone bothered to look for them; yet, she knew that the memories were still present in the minds of those that passed by her.[break][break]

“Yo,” and she would wave to catch Kyle's attention. “I brought a spare helmet with me. Safety first, or whatever the fuck.”

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]

[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]

She drove carefully.[break][break]

The events of the New Years Festival hung unspoken. Bailey was not sure what there was to say—by the time she had realized what had transpired, she had been wiping vomit from her mouth.[break][break]

It would not have been a good look.[break][break]

She revved the engine, gently coasting as she lane-split between the rows of cars. It made the trip to the outskirts of the city far faster than it should have been. When traffic backed up, she cut through the lines to get to where they needed to go.[break][break]

An empty warehouse. The parking lot was empty, and tall piles of rubble had been scooted to the sidewalk. The dilapidated building rested in a portion of the city that was still under reconstruction. Yellow tape tried to ward them away, and the tall chain link fence had been latched shut to prevent entry.[break][break]

But that was why she had bolt cutters.[break][break]

“I'm a cop.” She'd say as she crunched through the cheap Masterlock. “So don't sweat it.”

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]

[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]

“...probably not?”[break][break]

She does not sound confident.[break][break]

“but I doubt anyone will know about this place,” and as she pushed through the double doors, they were greeted by darkness and the staleness of the air. Dust was suspended, disturbed by the exposure to the outside. “I've been training here for years.”[break][break]

Bailey navigated through the dark, running her hand along a cracked plaster wall until she touched metal.[break][break]

She pulled down the breaker, kicking on the lights to reveal what had once been a battle arena—the faint square grid still visible, with floodlights from the ceiling directed to the pokeball center.[break][break]

“Used to be an old training club that used to gather here. When Slateport got taken over, everyone scrammed,” or so she hoped.[break][break]

The state of disrepair suggested that nobody was coming back. It was just her.[break][break]

The last one to know.[break][break]

"Been awhile since I've been back," which would explain the lock around the parking lot.

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]

[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]



“I left my doubles team at home,” Bailey lied as she fetched one capsule from her waist.[break][break]

She lacked the energy for doubles. There were too many strategies, too many possibilities, that a trainer had to be aware of when two pokemon were deployed onto a field. It could be fun, but it could also be exhausting.[break][break]

Right now, she wanted a brawl. She wanted to send out her pokemon and let them display their own merit. “Anyone in particular you looking to train? New or old? I got some pokemon that are new to my roster,” and some pokemon that were always hungry for battle, no matter how hard she tried to exhaust them.[break][break]

Aggron and Krookodile always throbbed in their capsules, like they were looking for any excuse to break. She would keep them restrained. Their aggression would be too much for a simple training match.[break][break]

She took her position at the other end of the field, kicking up dirt at the stand like a pitcher at a mound.[break][break]

“Nothing like a few singles to warm up, right?” and she would throw her capsule, revealing her first pick. "Let's go! Battarang!"[break][break]

Gliscor would materialize from the red light, her face transfixed by a seemingly permanent smile.

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]

[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]



For some reason, one of Lucas Lane's off-handed comments reemerged in her mind.[break][break]

Kyle Lopez did not fuck his dogs—she knew that to be a fact, but the corners of her lips pulled upward at their mention, and she had to internally kick herself to stay mature and to not find humor in the remarks of the League Head Scientist. Of all the things to say, why say that?[break][break]

Bailey Cooper was no scientist, and figured that she would never think like one.[break][break]

“Same twenty 'mons, huh? Uh oh, let me get my garchomps ready,” and while Bailey Cooper joked about the frequent usage of the land shark, she envied the fact that she had yet to capture one for herself—they looked sick.[break][break]

She made a spinning motion with her finger—a gesture that her Gliscor understood; she spun in a similar fashion, deploying swords dance as Kyle reached for his pokemon of choice.[break][break]

And this would have been the point where Bailey would have dipped into something angry—something to sour her mood and to whet her focus.[break][break]

Obstagoon changed that. “Yoooo, what the hell if that?!”[break][break]

“Is that one of those galar pokemon? What the hell, Lopez?! He looks sick,” and she would fumble for her phone, just to snap a quick picture of the pokemon that she had never seen.[break][break]

Gliscor would turn to stare at her with disbelief. “Oh, right, fuck.” They were in a fight.

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]

[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]



Fighting a new pokemon came with its disadvantages.[break][break]

Bailey found herself spending far too much time fixated on the Obstagoon, and far less time focused on the battle; with her focus divided, it was no surprise that her Gliscor equally struggled.[break][break]

It was a defensive fight, and with each time obstruct was used to counter an oncoming attack, she could feel a nagging irritation that started to pull at her face. Long gone was the initial enjoyment—her eyes followed the flow of the fight, struggling to pick apart a pattern that could be exploited.[break][break]

Another round of pin missile. It was countered with a wide swing of night shade as dark energy sliced apart to projectiles, but it was a wasted attack. It was only used to stop an encroaching move, not to advance the fight and cause actual damage.[break][break]

And that was what this fight had become—avoid, evade, and try to find an opening.[break][break]

But there wasn't—not with Gliscor. Battarang wasn't tooled for this kind of fight, and she could feel the walls close around them as her pokemon wasted valuable time and energy.[break][break]

“Fuck,” she breathed. Kyle Lopez had her on the ropes.[break][break]

And it burned.[break][break]

She was not so delusional to believe that every battle could be won; yet, there was an undeniable frustration that came from watching the tide turn and being helpless to push it back. Should she hold steadfast? Should she pull back? Push harder?[break][break]

Options boiled in her gut, and it was with a grimace that she delivered her next command.[break][break]

“U-Turn!” She could feel Battarang's silent disappointment, like the ground-type had thought she had failed her trainer in some way.[break][break]

That was far from the truth as the attack—regardless of it hit or not—would retract the pokemon back to the safety of her capsule.[break][break]

Her defense had been so drastically lowered, one move from the Obstagoon had almost rendered her unconscious—and those injuries would have to be dealt with after this battle was over.[break][break]

Regardless, the Gliscor was in no state to continue with the training.[break][break]

Her second capsule burst on her waist, deploying the next pokemon in the immediate order. It was in that split second that Bailey could feel time slow as hesitation and frustration made itself apparent—her hands flexing with a building tension.

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]

[attr="class","ihead"]

[attr="class","ipad"]


[break][break]
The horde descends and a battle ensues. [break][break]

Mounting frustration boils within the pits of Bailey's stomach. It rumbles with every failure, swishing around inside her, heat distributing unevenly in her veins. Her face becomes flushed from being man-handled by — in Noah's words — the strongest Elite Four member. It burns from embarrassment and the pressure is paramount to her demand to succeed. [break][break]

She needs to win. [break][break]

But she's only hanging on by the skin of her teeth. [break][break]

Her attempts on putting a muzzle on the mutt will have to wait. Call it an unlucky coincidence but an ULTRA WORMHOLE opens up underneath the florescent lights. This one faces downward and onto their battlefield, much smaller in comparison to the one in Mossdeep. The size proves appropriate for what comes out. [break][break]


[break]


Finally! A normal sized Pokemon. It stands at a definitive eight feet which makes it no bigger than several of the most popular Pokemon kept by modern trainers. However, the Pokemon seems incredibly lanky, poised to swivel on the tip of its perfectly pointed feet. With an almost human express of contempt, it runs its hand across its elongated antennas, brushing it back while placing its other hand on its hips. [break][break]

Is it judging you? [break][break]

For now, it stands still, balancing at the tip of its pronged toes. The most observant of trainers will realize that its tiny feet are vibrating, causing the air to swirl around it in a small gust. [break][break]

---

[break][BREAK]