Steel (Poke)Ball Run
Chapter 16 – VS MRS ROBINSON
Riding upon the back of a highly unusual mount, as far as racing goes anyway, was Mrs Robinson. And though he had such an effeminate name and a somewhat androgynous appearance, he was male. He was tall and broad shouldered, he bore eccentric accessories: all fashioned to mimic the human eyeball.
He rode a sturdy looking creature, a Scolipede, which was swept up in a lightweight saddle and decorations, streamers reading "true love". Together, he charged forward. He let his Scolipede navigate as from behind its tall, thick neck, his vision was hindered; not to mention that he had an eyepatch guarding his right eye.
Gyro continued on ahead, business per usual. Johnny attempted to follow ut with that announcement ringing in his ears, he couldn't help but let the cautious side of him lead his actions. He furtively glanced over his shoulder, to catch glimpses of this Mrs Robinson and let Gyro know what kind of company they could expect from him.
'He's about one hundred and fifty lengths away from us. He's got weird things hanging from his ears but it's too far away to know what. So far this route has been filled with nothing but weirdoes. I can see his number, yeah, that's Mrs Robinson alright.' Johnny rambled.
He and Gyro continued on their way. As they navigated through the forest, they lost sight of Robinson. He wasn't making as huge as an attempt to follow them as they thought. The further they travelled, the denser and thicker the forest became. Soon, it was just them and an eerie silence. They could see patches of the sky through the leaves but not much else. They hadn't lost sight of any hot air balloons hanging around though, which may turn out to be fortunae.
Their momentum came to a petered halt. They took the moment to regroup and re-examine their maps and surroundings. Both were a tad bit sore but it was nothing to complain too much about. Johnny stared down the barrel of a telescope, he swung it around.
'Hey, Gyro…' Johnny called out.
Gyro grunted in acknowledgement.
'We're about six hours from the starting line. And according to the map, we should be reaching the top now… as long as we've been following the right direction, that is. That means, at the very worst, it should only be another eighty kilometres before we find a safe waterhole and we can refill our canteens. I just want to make sure we're on the right trail, to be on the safe side. Because if we stray too much, we'll either end up over a cliff and into the ocean or we'll end up on the mountains. Obviously, we don't want either scenario.' Johnny said.
Gyro pulled out a map of his own. He made thoughtful noises as he turned it around every which way. He examined every detailing on it. Johnny watched and a little bit of horror and doubt creeped into him. Eventually, Gyro decided that he completely understood the map.
Johnny padded up next to Gyro. Their mounts sniffed as each other's' noses in greeting. Gyro handed the map to Johnny and pointed out squares in its grid to Johnny.
'Yeah, everything's fine.' Gyro announced, a tad too brash. 'Everything's perfect! We're on the right trail, absolutely! Uh, maybe…'
'What? What did you just say now?' Johnny yelled. 'Hold on a second, did you just say "maybe"?! "Maybe"?!'
Gyro went on a little bit ahead of Johnny, to escape his screeching.
'Don't worry about it!' Gyro yelled back. 'Of course we're going the right way. I mean, look: the hot air balloon is the area, right through those trees there. That means we're following the map! Certainly.'
'What was that? "Certainly"?' Johnny cried out incredulously.
He caught up to Gyro.
'It's eighty kilometres to the next safe waterhole, if we deter even a little bit from that route we risk death! To be honest, I'm still trying to work out if you know anything about this forest outside of what I told you.' Johnny yelled.
Gyro leaned away from him, his ear ringing from Johnny's loud voice. He wasn't exactly a "big guy" but he more than made up for it with the volume he could reach.
'We're fine, I know plenty about forests. Even this one in particular, you just need to quit worrying. I've got everything under control, trust me.' Gyro huffed. He then decided it would be wise to change the subject. 'How're your "revolutions" coming? That's a tad bit more important, don't you think? That cork exercise I taught you yesterday, don't tell me you've forgotten it already.'
Before Johnny got the chance to reply, something flew by between them, although a lot more closer to gyro. If he hadn't have been leaning out of Johnny's way, he likely would have been pierced by whatever it was. At first, it kind of felt like an extremely small but fast bug may have flown past honestly, it had the intensity akin to a gunshot.
Both looked around, more than a tad perturbed. But not quite worried either.
'What the hell was that?' Johnny asked.
Gyro grew serious as his eyes fell upon a clunky figure draped in the shadows of the forest.
'Just now, something came flying at us. From someone… in front of us.' Gyro replied.
'Gy-Gyro…' Johnny stuttered. 'Your ear.'
'Huh?'
Gyro tentatively put his hand over the cartilage of his ear. His fingertips became slick with blood and he could feel free, perfect holes throughout his ear. He was all torn up because of it. He clamped his palm over his ear. He looked around. He lost all composure.
Johnny raised his arms and soon felt his own flesh become pierced by invisible, tiny arrows. Blood spilt from the swift cuts.
'From ahead of us!' Gyro yelled, his panic causing his Mudsdale to buck and stomp, a tad scared itself.
'Shit, I've been cut!' Johnny yelled. 'Something keeps cutting my arms!'
There was nothing he could do to stop the bleeding or from getting new cuts. He just stared in dumb, wide-eyed amazement as he kept getting barraged with these thin cuts. He and Gyro then looked around. The clunky figure from before had drawn in closer to them. He was running parallel to them but there was something off about his movements. Both noticed.
'That guy!' Johnny yelled, pointed him out.
'Is he the one shooting at us? What the hell is he doing? Is he tryin' to interfere with our progress?'
With each question, Gyro's rage built up. He burned with fury next to Johnny.
'Oi, calm down, Gyro. The direction of the attacks seem strange given his location to us. Hey, try not to make too many movements, and get your Mudsdale to calm down too.' Johnny suggested. 'You said you were familiar with forests, including this one so maybe if you cool your head, you might realise that this isn't the work of another racer.'
Johnny paused and he dug something out of his wounds. He pulled out thin cacti needles. Gyro raised an eyebrow; a good poker face. Johnny was becoming all the more convinced that he knew nothing about Unovan forests but that could be a pressing issue for another time.
'There're no cacti Pokemon in this area, at least not natively. But, normal cacti are. And there's a species called "cholla" - maybe you've heard of 'em. They react to the vibrations around them and will shoot off their needles in reaction. I think it's a type of a pollination since there are seeds in their needles. We might've accidentally walked right into a patch of it.' Johnny said. 'Hang on, let me check this theory.'
Johnny leaned out over his Zebstrika's side. They had stopped in the passage with some rocks around. There were plenty of crevices around which could get plenty of sunshine and foster the environment a cacti could survive in. He hocked a big glob of spit as far as he could get it to go.
As the droplet fell over some of the rocks, from beneath it fifty odd cacti needles shot out. Johnny nodded, his theory confirmed. Johnny carefully trod out and stuck his neck out. From beneath some pale rocks, there was a thick patch of a cacti growing. He didn't know the exact species but they were definitely in approximation of "cholla".
'Shit, yep, those're probably cholla.' he said. 'Looks like there's a whole bunch growing around here.'
'So we're the ones at fault here.' Gyro muttered. 'Or is it that jerk's fault, is it possible he set up a trap?'
'I don't know… In order to launch the needles of the cholla, you'd have to be in extremely close range. You couldn't even shoot a rifle from over there! Whatever hit at us… to think they were even aiming is impossible!' Johnny replied.
'Maybe if he had motive, it'd be possible.' Gyro looked up at the sky.
He saw a yellow-orange hot air balloon drift through the crevices of the sky visible between the bright foliage. Perhaps this wasn't quite as close to wishful thinking as he thought it was. Intentional aiming of weapons at competitors was prohibited but utilising something like cholla, that would make for a great "it was an accident" type defence.
Gyro and Johnny stared down their mystery competitors. His mount began to speed out, they could see a silhouette of what kind of Pokemon it was but in the distance and with its luggage, it was still too distorted for confirmation.
'Wait, he's turning around!' Johnny pointed out. 'But I still can't tell if he's targetting us.'
'Shit, at this distance, escaping is… Dammit, this is bad Johnny! We're in a dangerous position!' Gyro yelled.
He turned to Johnny and his Mudsdale built itself to a canter.
'Run! Johnny, run!' Gyro barked at him before swinging his head back around to what was in front of him.
'I got it, I'm running!' Johnny shouted back.
His Zebstrika bolted forward. Johnny attempted to flee but he was barraged once more with needles but these ones were different to the cacti needles from before. Their range was far more precise. Johnny yanked on his reins and the material became stringy. It was utterly pierced with needles. These needles that had been shot into his reins were larger than thicker than the ones from before.
He came loose from his saddle. His Zebstrika continued to gallop forward, almost oblivious to Johnny's peril. Johnny attempted to hold onto his rein but it was useless. A second barrage came through.
Half of his face was pierced. Even his eye was pierced. This time, he was completely thrown from his mount in surprise and pain. Gyro had heard the noises. He watched as Johnny crashed into the leaf litter on the ground.
'What the?'
A third barrage sprayed through the air. Luckily, Gyro was a little more guarded than Johnny. He had half-expected it after seeing johnny get gunned down like that. He raised his arm and it was better his forearm to receive the damage than his face. Still, he was a little harrowed.
Gyro yanked on his reins. His Mudsdale came to a whinnying halt. He twisted back around to look at Johnny. He had one hand clamped over his face whilst the other propped him up. He was dirty and dusty, groaning. He pulled himself around and Gyro saw how red his face was with blood. It was grotesque.
Johnny clawed at the ground. He looked up, begged silently, that Gyro help him. Gyro coldly returned such a pitiful action. Instead, he barked an order at Johnny:
'Hurry up, Johnny Joestar!' he yelled. 'And get back on your damn Zebstrika! This has been his intent from the very start!'
Johnny crawled a little bit further, a little closer. He squinted ahead, vaugely in Gyro's direction. That's when Gyro realised that he hadn't been silently asking for help. He was hard to look at either way though, with the whites of his eyes dyed a pale pink from his blood.
'Just keep going!' Johnny yelled. 'There's blood in my eyes but the eyeballs themselves're fine.'
Their competitor had drawn in closer now. Close enough to be recognised as Mrs. Robinson; to little surprise though.
Gyro and his Mudsdale remained cemented to the ground. Much to Johnny's frustration.
'I said go!' Johnny screamed as he pawed at his eyes, trying to clean them up a little bit. 'I know I promised to cross the goal line with you but we're still rivals, remember! You have to concentrate on getting out of this place!'
Gyro chewed his lip. A dark shadow was cast down over half his face. Johnny couldn't tell what he was thinking. He removed his hands from his face. There were the beginnings of tears in his eyes, trying to flush out the blood.
'A race is still a race!' Johnny declared. 'There's no reason for you to wait around for me! I'll catch up once I wipe up my blood.'
Gyro looked up. A cross determination moulded his face. Johnny could have sighed out of relief. It seemed that convinced him. His Mudsdale stomped around viciously.
'Got it.' Gyro said. 'We are both rivals, so I'll head onwards.'
'Yeah, go!' Johnny's voice became hoarse. He continued to crawl towards a rock propped up between him and his Zebstrika.
'Yeah, straight in the direction of that son of a bitch.' Gyro cussed.
Gyro reared back slightly, just a bit, then burst forth. He and his Mudsdale sailed over Johny. Johnny honestly felt his heart stop. He propped himself up against the outcrop and watched as Gyro charged into battle.
'Our eyes met and now we have the battle! Them's the rules!' Gyro roared as he unclipped a PokeBall from his hip.
Mrs. Robinson was silent. He neither rejected the battle or excitedly accepted it. Though either action would ultimately had little effect on the outcome as Gyro had gone in guns blazing. And with the hot air balloon floating in the distance, it meant no foul play would be tolerated.
'Gyro?! Are you insane?' Johnny screamed. 'You lose a battle and you're disqualified from the race! Even if you win, if you're Pokemon are too injured to go on and a medic notices, you're disqualified! You're already on probation, are you really going to risk it this early on? Besides, we don't have any evidence that he's been targeting us! Is it really okay to give it all up now? Even knowing this you continue on?'
It was like screaming at a brick wall.
'Ariados! Beedrill!' Mrs. Robinson yelled as he tossed out a pair of PokeBalls.
In front of him, in a silvery light, his Pokemon appeared. They hissed and spat. They seemed every bit as nasty as their master in temperament.
Gyro didn't have to stop and think about this. This was a double battle, apparently, and he knew exactly who to rely on in this scenario. Especially one between two Bug-Poison types.
'Go, go, Jailbreak and Custard Pie!' Gyro yelled back as he spun out his own pair of PokeBalls.
From the strange, skill-enhancing Spin, emerged his Pokemon: an Aggron and an Ursaring respectively. Gyro grinned. He was more than eager to battle but Mrs. Robinson had snagged the first turn given that his Ariados had the highest base speed between the four Pokemon in the field.
'Pin Missile, Beedrill!'
Mrs. Robinson's Beedrill surged forth. The drills upon its appendages began to spin and glow. Its eyes flashed. It sprayed the middle between Gyro's Ursaring and Aggron with its needles. It was the middle where Gyro and his Mudsdale were standing. His Ursaring and Aggron took the brunt of the attack but there were five onslaughts of the attack in all. Gyro sustained damage but he was strangely cocky; like he didn't mind that his arms were torn up and that he had blood on his face.
Nevertheless, Mrs. Robinson was intimidated by this expression of Gyro. He seemed convinced that he had the upperhand. He dismounted from the back of his Scolipede and sauntered forward. His mount hovered behind him, loomed behind him.
'I've dedicated my whole life to raising Bug-type Pokemon. Yes, I have been ones targeting you two fools.' mrs Robinson sneered. He affectionately stroked the neck of his Scolipede. 'My dear Scolipede here has the finest Pin Missile I've ever seen in any Pokemon. Using it, I was able to set off those cholla cacti in the area but it's not just my dearest Scolipede, Ariados, and Beedrill you ought to worry about. I have even more Pokemon hidden in the area, ready to attack at a moment's notice. They have you completely surrounded.
'But now that I've told you my secret, it's time to finish you off! Take this! I will not allow you or anyone to race in front of me!' Mrs. Robinson screamed.
'A moment's notice, you said, eh? Let's test that theory.' Gyro said.
Johnny's teeth chattered, he shivered too. He couldn't help but fret over Gyro. He was awfully confident despite the circumstances. Mrs. Robison could very easily out-speed Gyro if he wasn't bluffing.
'Rock Slide, the both of ya: Custard, Jailbreak!' Gyro yelled.
If Mrs. Robinson had desecrated the line between fair and foul play in this double battle then Gyro had just straddled it. Given that he had the next "two" turns, his play wasn't exactly unfair but it came extremely close.
His Pokemon roared and growled. Out of seeming thin air, an immense tumble of jagged rocks tumbled over their target. It practically rained rocks, stones, and pebbles. Dust was kicked up and Mrs. Robinson and his team were buried in the Rock Slide. It was horrific, truth be told.
Mrs. Robinson and his Pokemon were crushed beneath the rocks. Every single one that fell bounced back with blood stains then skittered onto the ground. Every movement was accompanied by the gut-wrenching sounds of breaking bones and suffocation.
Gyro returned his Pokemon to their PokeBalls. The rocks turned to dust. The dust turned to nothingness like from whence they had come. He was silent. Mrs. Robinson was a pulpy mess. His Pokemon were in a similar state but Pokemon were known to be more resilient than humans, even in situations like this.
Johnny and Gyro didn't stay around for much longer. It was hard to look at the remains of what Gyro had done but Mrs. Robinson was still alive. He moved anyway. It was uncertain for how long he would be alive for. So, they got out of there.
Which was fortunate as someone else came along this way: Mountain Tim. He inspected the hoof prints and concluded that whoever had been this way hadn't been mounted on a Rapidash.
Mountain Tim drew closer in and he greeted the seemingly tame Pokemon in the area. They bowed to him, curiously enough. They were a bit confused and when Mountain Tim found the Scolipede resting next to its master, he made sense of it all based on the saddle cloths the Scolipede wore. The mess next to it was Mrs. Robinson, still a touch alive but beyond saving. Mountain Tim offered a few prayers for his soul and kept wandering idly through the area.
Then he found the tracks that he had been searching for. Tracks belonging to the killer. The prints of a Rapidash wearing unique horseshoes. They were fresh, remarkably untouched by the wind. They couldn't have been more than thirty minutes old. With that, Mountain Tim became all the more certain that he was on the right trail.