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So, with the RAF Awards being voted on, I was struck with inspiration to do a RAF Awards/Christmas themed fanfic to Cloaky's Memoirs (or as he'd prefer to call it, a companion book or sister series). A lot of it's going to be absurd, strange comedy, so if you're not into that, then this fic may not be for you. Also, there's going to be some strong language.
Chapter 1: RAF?
Night enveloped the forum as the sun dipped below the horizon. As the last hints of daylight faded into darkness, the RAFians filed into the auditorium. The end of the year was closing in, and the nominations for the RAF Awards were going to be announced.
Eventually, the crowd settled down, just as Ash stepped up to the podium. She gave the microphone a couple taps and cleared her throat. “First of all, thank you all for attending,” she started, with a small grin across her face. “As I'm sure you know, the nominations for the RAF Awards have been sent in, and the other staff members and I have been very busy working on compiling them.”
“Why does she sound so much like principal Chapman?” Dpsb muttered, rousing a snicker from a few RAFians.
“Anyway,” Ash continued, pretending not to notice the minor disturbance, “that's why we've called for this conference. The nominations are all sorted through, and we're ready to announce them. But first . . .” She paused and looked aside for a moment before continuing. “gh wanted to do a short introduction.” She looked to her left again and became visibly frustrated. “gh! That's your cue!”
“Sorry!” gh said, sleepily walking up to a microphone stand from off-stage. He wasn't holding his normal instrument (or, as he called it, his “battle axe,”), but instead carried a V-shaped guitar. What caught everyone's attention, though, was that his hair was an absolute mess, and there were four red lines across his face, each of them about the size of his fingers.
“You fell asleep!?” Ash remarked, glaring at gh.
“Uh, maybe. Just a little,” he said, scratching his chin. “Don't worry, I got this.” As Ash left the stage in a huff, gh turned his attention to the assembly of RAFians, who were now growing restless. “I, uh, made a song for you guys.” He turned his head away from the mic, coughed a couple times, then continued. “Sorry, didn't have my coffee yet. Anyway, hope you enjoy it.”
Suddenly, jets of flame erupted behind gh as he ripped into a triplet-heavy riff on his guitar. As the lights dissipated, a massive wall of amplifiers appeared behind the guitarist. Nobody was quite sure how he had hidden the amplifiers, or where he had even acquired the money to buy them. Or when the auditorium was outfitted with pyrotechnics, for that matter. After a few moments of playing on that riff, gh stepped up to the microphone again. He alternated between a raspy scream and operatic crooning while singing:
RAF!!! Is a place of being . . .
Oh, RAF!!! Is a place of being less alone,
So, WHAT'S ALL THE FIGHTING ABOUT!?
**** IT, RAF!!! We're really not misleading. . . .
Due to his aggressive playing style, gh had managed to cut the thumb of his picking hand. Saffa rushed in with a bandage.
OH, RAF!!! OH, GOD, I'M BLEEDING!
OH, GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE IT TO ME!
Due to gh's inability to stifle his laughter, it could safely be assumed that the accident was staged.
I know what I stand for . . .
I stand for RAF!
I'll wait for Mr. Guy
So far, no posts to reply.
I'm really not a bad guy,
But RAF, makes me want to DIE!!!
Crouched down on one knee, gh rested the guitar on his other knee as he banged his head along with the music. The audience looked at him, perplexed not only by his questionable antics, but also by his lyrics, which made RAF out to be a less than ideal place. gh wasn't finished, though, as he stood back up and delivered his last verse.
I'm just joking!
COME ON, I'M JOKING!
All the RAFians are here!
Now just sit!
I'll wait for someone to come
To chat, hey, Saffa's got rum!
My mind is completely numb,
Also, can someone stitch my thumb?
NOW VOTE!!!
All in the name of RAF . . .
All in the name of RAF . . .
gh calmly stepped away from the mic stand at the end of his song. Half of the attendees stared wide-eyed at him as he took his seat, while the other half were looking at each other for some sort of explanation as to what happened. gh considered the song to be a success.
*Source song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mL9Aohgd79I (http://here)
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That was... strange. I love it.
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As I said, lots of strange, absurd humor. :P
Chapter 2: And the Nominees Are . . .
“Thanks for that . . . lovely song, gh,” Ash said after stepping back up to the podium. “For the record, I had no idea anything like that was going to happen. Somebody remind me to pre-screen any performances like that.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Anyway, back on-track. Nomees for most contributing member. . . .”
Ash read off the nominees. For the most part, they were rather predictable. There were a few chuckles at the candidates for Most Likely Harbinger of Armageddon, which included Tim Bruening, who seemed to get lost on his way back from the Bannedlands. gh was, naturally, snoozing throughout most of the assembly, until he was nominated twice for best RAF Couple – one of the nominations being himself and YeerkSalad. He woke up rather suddenly to that.
“And that brings us to Member of the Year. Drumroll please?” Ash paused. “No drumroll? Oh well.” Goom rushed in from offstage, holding a comically tiny snare drum. After catching his breath, he gave Ash the requested drumroll.
“Well, I was joking, but thank you Goom. So, nominees for Member of the Year. First off, we have – Goom, that's enough. Thank you. First off, we have . . . myself, it seems! That's certainly a nice surprise! Then, we have Phoenix. . . .”
The rest of the RAFians applauded, while Nate patted a grinning Phoenix on the back.
“Next, there's Cloak. . . .”
Another round of applause for the Realm Walker, who was sitting mostly secluded in the back of the auditorium.
“Then, there's. . . .” Ash stifled a laugh. “gh.”
“Naturally,” gh said, still (barely) awake. A goofy smile spread across his face.
“And the final nominee is Saffa!”
The auditorium was filled once more with applause, as Saffa pumped a fist in the air.
“And I think that about wraps things up. Send your votes in, and we'll announce the winners in two weeks. Have fun!”
* * *
“Let's face it, we're practically superheroes at this point anyway,” gh said. He, Saffa, and Cloak were all discussing amongst themselves later that day. “Think about it. That award is kinda pointless.”
“By the way, what exactly was with that song?” Cloak asked.
“Just figured it would get everyone excited. What, you didn't like it?”
“It was a little over-the-top,” Cloak said bluntly. “Besides, Ash was just revealing the nominations. Nobody's sure who's going to win. Even then, the whole thing is rather trivial.”
gh shrugged. “Hey, I'm just trying to have fun with it.” He gave Cloak a coy look. “Besides, you're just jealous because you know I'm gonna win Member of the Year.”
“Excuse me?” Saffa chimed in. “What makes you so sure that you're going to win?”
“Let's be fair, here; I'm just plain awesome, and that's that.” gh's flat voice made it unclear as to whether or not he was being facetious or not.
“Um, who's the one that kicked your ass after that whole ordeal with Gamemaster?”
“You two . . .” Cloak muttered. He let that thought hang in the air as he left gh and Saffa to their bickering.
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Oh, I'll PDF this one as well. :)
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If you want to, that would be awesome! :D
I'll try to get at least one chapter up tomorrow. No promises.
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A good start, GH. A good start.
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Hahaha, I really need to talk to you more, because I didn't recognize myself there :P
Interesting concept though, I'd love to follow this.
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Hahaha, I really need to talk to you more, because I didn't recognize myself there :P
Yeah, I was kinda afraid that would happen. I think we can also blame that on my inability to write... Well, anything, really, but especially characters. :P
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Now that the holidays are winding down, I should have time to work on this again. Sorry about the unannounced lack of activity.
New chapter
Chapter 3: Threats
“Hey buddy, you got any rolling papers?” a grungy looking man asked.
“What?”
“It's not for weed, man, it's for tobacco.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Seriously! So, you have any?”
“ . . . No. I'm leaving now.”*
gh walked down the street, annoyed. Partially by the man who certainly didn't want to roll a joint, and partially by the particularly dismal weather. The sky had been threatening rain all day, and he wasn't pleased by the idea of his guitar strings rusting. Leatherhead (who was laying comfortably in gh's coat pocket), however, loved the rain. Despite Cloak's objections, gh had taken to bringing LH around most everywhere with him. Not just because he liked the company, but also because he was afraid of leaving the reptile in his thread. Too many things could go wrong there.
gh's thoughts were interrupted by a tall, muscle-bound construction worker walking toward him. Something about the way he walked made gh uneasy, and his paranoia was confirmed when the two converged.
“So, you're the great gh?” the man asked, with heavy sarcasm in his voice.
“Depends. Who're you?”
“Tough guy, huh?” gh's annoyed expression was quickly replaced by one of absolute terror. Which is a rather appropriate reaction when one has a cold steel barrel poking against their abdomen. This sudden change in gh's demeanor put a smile on the construction worker's face. “Hm, not so much anymore. Funny, you seemed pretty confident when you stole my blueprints.”
“What the hell are you talking about!?” gh hoped that the man wouldn't fire in broad daylight. Then again, it was entirely possible that he wasn't completely in the right state of mind.
“Don't **** around with me, alright? I know that you remember leaving this.” The worker pulled a picture out of his pocket of gh extending his middle finger toward the camera. gh recognized the photo as one that he took a few years ago.
The gun was pushed harder into gh's belly. He was silently thankful that the man's finger was off the trigger – for now. “I don't like it when people mock me, alright!?” the man roared. gh's eyes darted around the street, looking for someone to help him. Nobody. “Just give them back. You'll walk away, and I won't have any blood on my hands. Fair trade, don't you – AAH!” The worker was cut short. Chancing a look down, gh saw Leatherhead's jaw firmly clamped down on the man's wrist. Instinctively, he yanked his hand back, the gun pointing away from gh. The RAFian took the opportunity to sprint down a side street, Leatherhead having scurried back into his pocket.
After running for a few blocks, gh caught his breath in front of a convenience store. He looked around for the construction worker, not seeing him anywhere. “Lost him,” gh said to himself breathlessly. He ducked inside the store and pretended to browse. Which eventually ended in him dropping an armful of snacks at the checkout counter.
“Do you need anything else, sir?”
gh debated whether or not he should make the purchase he'd been considering for a while. After all, this was a particularly stressful encounter. “Yeah, I'll take a pack of . . .”
He let that thought hang in the air. After getting over the initial fear of having a gun shoved in his belly, gh began to question one very small, very minute thing. What the hell was that guy talking about?
“Sir?”
Obviously, gh had no idea what blueprints he was talking about. Or why they were so important to him to threaten violence.
“Sir?”
Furthermore, why did this person think gh had stolen his documents? And how did this person know gh's name? He preferred to use his real name outside of RAF.
“Sir?”
And how in the world did he manage to get this picture? gh had all but forgotten about the admittedly juvenile photograph, but it was ostensibly him. There was a period when he had the photograph set as his avatar on social media, but that was long behind him.
“Sir?”**
“You know what? Forget it,” gh said eventually. He walked out the door and started to head back to RAF. The others might want to hear about this.
*Yes, I have actually had this exchange before.
**Yeah, I stole this joke from the movie Hot Fuzz. I think it's justified in that it's a great movie.
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Somehow I'm not surprised that you took that kind of photo in your youth. :P
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Hasn't everyone? :P
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I haven't. :P
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. . . You win.
[spoiler](https://scontent-ord1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xfp1/v/t1.0-9/11034303_1576360095969618_483315929626499972_n.jpg?oh=be913ff9549720baa5da07765f8b8a15&oe=57122329)
Jesus, I look girly in this picture.[/spoiler]
Anyway, new chapter. This is actually becoming a lot more serious than I originally intended. And it's not Christmas-themed at all. Ah, well.
Chapter 4: Stop Telephoning Me-e-e-e-e
As soon as he got back to the forum, gh had relayed his story to Cloak, Saffa, and Dpsb. The three of them were confused, to say the least, but listened nonetheless. “So, let me get this straight,” Saffa started. “This guy points a gun at you, saying that you stole something from him, when you've never even met him before.”
“Yes. In fact, those are the exact words that I used ten seconds ago.” gh sighed. “Why exactly did you feel the need to repeat that?”
“Because it would annoy you,” Saffa countered, grinning from ear to ear.
“Fair enough.”
Dpsb, who was crouched on the ground, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You ever think that this guy might just be crazy? He might have just lost whatever it was that he needed and blamed the first person he saw on the street.”
gh shook his head. “I doubt it. That wouldn't explain how he knew who I am. Or how he got a picture of me.” He sighed again, somewhat wishing he had purchased the cigarettes from the convenience store. He'd have to pester Cloak to get his smokes back, for sure. “I have a feeling that he might be a Knight or something. The blueprints thing might just be a cover-up for if I got away.”
“Not likely,” Cloak said. “Since when have the Knights of Humanity ever shown so much forethought and planning?” gh nodded his head in Cloak's direction, conceding the point. The group were silent in thought for a moment. That silence was broken by the sound of obnoxious dance music.
“Sorry. Phone call,” gh said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.
“Seriously, you can't stay focused for one minute!?” Saffa exclaimed.
Dpsb, however, was perplexed. “That's your ringtone?” gh wasn't paying attention to the other RAFians, though. He held the phone up to his ear, listening intently.
“Hold on,” he finally said into the mouthpiece. He pressed the phone against his chest to address the other three. “Stay quiet. I'm putting it on speaker.” He tapped on the touch screen and held the device out in front of him. “Alright, lemme make sure I heard you right. You wanted a large pizza with pepperoni and extra onion?”
The voice coming from the speaker was both confused and frustrated. “What? No! How did you even get that from what I said?”
gh shrugged, a gesture that could not be transmitted through the telephone. “Sorry, guess I just wasn't paying attention. You mind repeating that for me?”
A loud noise emanated from the speaker. It could have been assumed to be either wind or a sharp exhale. “Alright. You might want to listen this time. You don't know who I am, but I assure you that I know you. I'm sure that by this point, you've come in contact with somebody who's claimed that you've wronged them. I'd like you to know that I can help make sure that isn't going to happen again. But I can also make sure that you'll never walk the streets again without being assaulted, arrested, or killed. It's your choice.
“I can help you get this sorted out. I'll send you a text message with an address and time. Meet me there, and and we'll discuss this. If you don't, there will be consequences. Got it?”
“Think so,” gh said. “You said stuffed crust, right?”
“DON'T TAKE THIS LIGHTLY!” The voice on the other end was so loud that the speaker distorted the sound almost past the point of recognition. “I'll send you the details. Come alone.” With that, the call ended.
Saffa smacked gh's arm as he put the phone back in his pocket. “What were you thinking!?”
“Mind games,” gh said, rubbing his shoulder. “I want this guy to know I'm not afraid of him.”
“Is that why your hand is shaking?” Cloak asked flatly.
“Shut up.”
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That's never usually a great idea. :P
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True, Saffa, but what is the true extent of what this guy can do? GH know veritable gods, essentially, especially if Estelore is back from one of her sojourns. ;)
Anyway, nice chapters, GH. As irreverent as ever in the last one.
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Anyway, nice chapters, GH. As irreverent as ever in the last one.
I figured that I'd put something that my real life would do in there. :P
New chapter. Not quite as comedic in tone as previous chapters. Ah, well.
Chapter 5: Meet Your Master
gh walked briskly toward an outdoor cafe. Rain had already passed through the area since his previous trip outside the forum, leaving the streets shiny and slick. Surprisingly, winter weather hadn't caught up yet, but the colder temperature was certainly a presence, which was why gh had the hood of his winter coat pulled over his head.
A little ahead of schedule, gh found a seat under an awning to wait. The stranger had sent him out at midnight, so the streets were completely dead. Even Leatherhead had gone to sleep by this point, so gh chose to leave him back at the forum, not wishing to rouse him. He even left his trademark guitar back at his thread. Not the smartest move, but he didn't want to deal with the inevitable maintenance after bringing the instrument out into the cold.
Eventually, a small-framed man came out of the darkness and sat down confidently across from gh. Even in the poor light, it was clear that this person was well into his thirties, at the very least. His age showed clearly on his clean-shaven face, with shallow wrinkles developing around his lips.
“gh. Or should I call you by your real name? Hope I didn't keep you waiting,” the man said, putting on a pair of spectacles. “Nice to finally meet you in the flesh. You can call me Harrison.” He extended his hand across the table.
gh, however, was not in the mood for formalities. Ignoring Harrison's hand, he produced a small box from his pocket. “Cute entrance. You practice that before coming here?” gh pulled a cigarette from the box and lit it, placing the box on the table.
Harrison retracted his hand, placing it under his chin. “No need to be so brash. I only came for a friendly chat.”
“Cut the bull****, alright?” gh took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke into Harrison's face. “You threatened me. What was it that you said? 'If I don't come, there would be consequences?'”
Harrison twisted his face into an icy, emotionless smile. A politician's smile, as some would call it. “Maybe not my exact words. But it doesn't really matter, does it? We're here now. So let's talk.”
“Yeah, let's. First off, you mind telling me how you seem to know so much about me?”
Harrison shrugged. “It's the digital age, my friend. There's information on everybody on the Internet. You just have to dig deep enough.”
For the moment, this answer seemed to satisfy gh. Without a moment's respite, though, he moved on. “Fair enough. But what I'd really like to know is why you're targeting me. Lemme guess, it's a Knights of Humanity thing. Either that, or Bern Bridges is desperate enough to hire somebody to defame one of the RAFians.”
“I find it funny, gh, that you think you're calling the shots here.” Harrison leaned across the table, closing the distance between him and the RAFian. If this made gh uncomfortable, he certainly didn't show it. “Don't forget, I'm the one who holds the power here. I know more about you than you could imagine. And I can destroy your life. And you expect me to think that this doesn't bother you?”
“You know, it would. If it weren't for the fact that the other RAFians would be on you like flies on **** if you pulled anything. I were you, I'd be a little more concerned about my own health.” gh took another drag on his cigarette to emphasize this point.
Harrison wasn't impressed. “Listen, you little punk,” he snarled, rage apparent in his voice. “I've had it up to here with your little group of vigilantes. You've made me lose a lot of my investments. That's a lot of money down the drain thanks to you and your friends.” Harrison paused and took a deep breath, sitting back in his seat. When he spoke again, he had lost any traces of the anger that he had just displayed. “I'm going to make you an offer. I want this group gone. I want to tear it apart from the inside out. And that's where you come in.”
“Get to the point,” gh said.
“As you wish. To put it bluntly, I want you to kill a RAFian. And I want to watch you do it. At this time, three days from today, you'll bring one of them to these coordinates.” Harrison passed a folded-up sheet of paper across to gh. “I don't care which of your little friends it is. Just bring one of them to me and kill them. If you do this, I can guarantee that you'll never have any issues like that again. If you fail . . . Well, I'll leave that up to your imagination.” Harrison stood up, but before leaving, looked gh dead in the eyes. “Three days. Don't. Forget.” And with that, he walked away into the night.
***
gh waited until he was sure that Harrison was gone before he broke into a coughing fit. “****ing cigarettes,” he muttered. He then spoke into the communicator he had concealed in his coat. “You catch all that?”
“Loud and clear,” Ash replied. “Sounds like this Harrison guy has no idea what he's dealing with.”
“I wouldn't be so sure. I have a feeling that he's got a trick or two up his sleeve. We should probably be careful.”
“Definitely. And gh?”
“Yeah?”
“I talked to Cloak today. He mentioned that your cigarettes mysteriously vanished."
"Damn it."
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Are we still on topic though? :P
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I like this tone to the story.
Although, I do have to admit it is kind of weird to see some the characters I created (Knight of Humanity, Bern Bridges) used in someone else's story, but giddily flattering at the same time. Know what I mean? :)
And I sense some similar elements to the the first book of Memoirs, as well. Still, well done, GH!
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Oh don't stop there, the Knights will be appearing in some form in the backstory I have planned as well. I like the layers that the group as a concept can add to a story.
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Well, I did base them off the Friends of Humanity from "X-Men". And a bit from the Forever Knights from the "Ben 10" franchise, complete with how their leaders are called Kings. Also, the Ku Klux Klan was an inspiration for these xenophobic losers, which was apt I thought, considering that the KKK are racist losers.
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Are we still on topic though? :P
Actually, I've been meaning to bring it back to the topic of RAF Awards. I realized that I've been moving further and further away since Chapter 2. :P Originally, this was going to be a series of stories about a bunch of RAFians, but as things went on, I realized that I actually started to become more interested in where my story ended up going. I admit, it does make the title a little uninformative of the actual content, but as this chapter will show, I'm planning on having a few chapters unrelated to the main plot that I'll (hopefully) tie up at the end.
Anyway, now that I've gotten that out of the way, new chapter.
Chapter 6: The Stick of Fate
Of course, not all of RAF had to deal with stalkers. While gh was working out what exactly to do with his situation, the rest of the RAFians were going about their own business; much of which, of course, dealt with the RAF Awards. A few days had already passed since the announcement, and things were just beginning to die down. “Beginning” being the key word, as the forum was still buzzing with activity. Even outside of the voting, there was quite a bit more activity than normal.
This seemed to bring out the more mischievous side of Demos. He had been playing pranks on the RAFians, and effectively scaring away the newcomers. Most of the pranks were of a rather benign nature, such as slipping a fake (at least, he was pretty sure it was fake) maggot into somebody's breakfast cereal.
“Demos,” Saffa said. She and Broken had finally decided to confront the demon. “What exactly are you doing?”
“Nothing! Nothing at all!” Demos replied in a way that implied that he was, in fact, doing something.
Broken raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because it looks to me like you're trying to replace somebody's eye drops with soy sauce.”
“Aw, come on! You're not going to let me have just a little fun here?”
“I don't really see how that could be considered fun in any capacity.”
Saffa sighed. There was only one real way this could have gone. In typical RAF fashion, Demos began to break into song.
Now, you are ****ed! **** out of luck!
Tomorrow, you'll wake with your beds full of muck!
I will do my jokes, you'll wish you never spoke,
I'll even replace all your Pepsi with Coke!
Saffa interrupted Demos, more than fed up with his over-the-top theatrics.
Wait! Wait!
Wait, Demos.
We challenge you to a rock-off,
Give us one chance to rock your socks off.
Demos stared for a moment, perplexed. Out of nowhere, he let out a string of profanities. Shortly after, he resumed his song:
Ugh, the demon code prevents me
From declining a rock-off challenge.
What are your terms? What's the catch?
Saffa considered for a moment before replying:
If we win, then you apologize to everyone that you pranked . . .
And also, you will have to clean our threads!
Demos seemed to accept these terms. “And what if I win?”
“Then you can take Broken to hell . . .”
“WHAT!?” Broken was obviously not happy with this.
Saffa quietly said to Broken, “Trust me, it's the only way.”
“What are you talking about-”
Saffa turned to address Demos again. “To do all your paperwork for a week or . . . whatever.”
“Fine!” Demos bellowed. “Let the rock-off BEGIN!”
Suddenly, the three were in a Roman-style Colosseum. None of them were quite sure how they got there, but they decided to go with it if it meant getting done with the song as soon as possible.
Demos started:
I'm a demon, I can do what I want!
I can put olives in your croissant!
There's never been a rock-off that I've ever lost.
I can't wait to take Broken to hell,
I might even make him wear a bell!
He'll do my work for me, he might even cry, as well!
“STOP!” Broken screamed. He had heard quite enough.
“Come on, Broken!” Saffa said. “Let's fight his music with our music.”
“There's just no way that we can win. That was a masterpiece!”
“Seriously?”
“He rocks too hard because he's not a mortal man!”
Saffa slapped Broken across the face. “Damn it, Broken, he's gonna make you do all his work!” she said while he was still staring at her hand.
“No. . .”
“. . . Unless we bust a massive monster mammoth jam!”
This time, it was Underseen's turn to sigh. “Can we just get done with this?”
And with that, they began to sing, alternating lines:
Now it's time to blow this sucker down . . .
Come on, Broken, now it's time to blow doors down.
I hear you, Saffa, now it's time to blow doors down.
Light up the stage 'cause it's time for a showdown.
Not that lame crap that you'd hear at a hoedown.
Now we've got to blow this demon down . . .
He's gonna kill me if we don't blow doors down!
C'mon, Broken, it's time to blow doors down!
Oh, we'll piledrive you, it's time for a smackdown!
They sang these final lines in unison:
Hey Anti-Christ-er, Beelzeboss,
We know your weakness, drop the soy sauce.
We rock the forum and blow your mind,
We will defeat you for all RAFkind!
You hold the scepter,
We hold the key!
You are the demon,
BUT WE HAVE TEA!
We have the tea!
“You guys are ****ing lame!” Demos yelled after what seemed like the hundredth repetition of the final line. “And what does tea have to do with anything.”
“NO!” Broken yelled.
Suddenly, Broken sat bolt upright, roused from his sleep. “Wow,” he said to himself, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “that was a strange dream.”
I don't care if this made any sense, I just wanted to have an excuse to have an adaptation of a Tenacious D song. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOBKxUT9Da4) Without all of the sexual stuff, of course, because that would have made this chapter even weirder than it already was.
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YES! TEA!
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Fun fact: my dad and stepmom are leaving on a trip to Alabama tomorrow (ok, technically today), and when I went to the store to get food for staying here alone, tea was the first thing that I made sure to get.
. . . OK, that fact wasn't exactly fun, but whatever.
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Are we still on topic though? :P
Actually, I've been meaning to bring it back to the topic of RAF Awards. I realized that I've been moving further and further away since Chapter 2. :P Originally, this was going to be a series of stories about a bunch of RAFians, but as things went on, I realized that I actually started to become more interested in where my story ended up going. I admit, it does make the title a little uninformative of the actual content, but as this chapter will show, I'm planning on having a few chapters unrelated to the main plot that I'll (hopefully) tie up at the end.
Eh, you could always change the title to "Diary of a Mad Guitar Player" or something. *shrug* I think you can do that by changing the name in the original post.
And that song . . . I guess the song in Bonds Beyond Time Abridged was a parody. I had always assumed it was original.
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Damn, I forgot about BBT. Did you know that the song in the opening was a song by Mastodon? Friggin awesome.
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GH, you must know by now that musical knowledge is limited to Weird Al and animated movie songs. :P ;)
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True. Just wanted to mention that since Mastodon is one of my favorite bands. :P Plus, that song (Cut You Up With a Linoleum Knife) was made for the Aqua Teen Hunger Force movie. That counts!
Probably gonna have a new chapter sometime today.
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And I see you changed the title. ;)
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I may have done that. ;)
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I see the play on the Memoirs title. :P
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Eh, I didn't mean for him to take to my title suggestion as he apparently did. ;)
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Really, the only reason I did was because it can serve as a reference to the only Ozzy Osbourne album that I actually really like. I doubt you intended that, though. :P
New chapter. It's a little short, but I've been busy.
Chapter 7: Insert Title Here (I'm Lazy)
While the rest of RAF was asleep, gh was getting no rest. He sat in his thread, stewing over everything that had happened so far. It was obvious that Harrison had money, and in a world where those with cash have power, he could get practically any information on gh. This was at least an answer to one of his questions, but it wasn't exactly a calming sentiment. Especially when he considered the things that he had tried to keep secret.
Then, of course, there was Harrison's ultimatum. gh could think of at least a few solutions, but none of them were fail-proof, and that's not good enough. The fact of the matter was that gh was sure that Harrison had thought of everything and had a plan for every possible course of action. There was the obvious solution, and possibly the most direct, but gh certainly wasn't interested in killing anybody. Then again, was there much of another solution? gh was sure that even if he ended up killing another RAFian, which he had absolutely no intention of doing, then he was practically already dead anyway. And if he didn't, well, Harrison's threats were very clear. . . .
“Damn it,” gh muttered, breaking the silence that enveloped his thread. “I'm thinking in circles here.” Exhausted, he put his head in his hand. Leatherhead let out a small noise that sounded strangely close to a puppy's whimper. “I feel ya, buddy.”
It occurred to gh at this point that he had been so wrapped up in this debacle that he had completely forgotten to submit his votes for the RAF Awards. He decided to leave his thread for the first time since his meetup with Harrison and do just that. Maybe have a smoke. No, definitely have a smoke. Then go to bed. Anything to get his mind out of his cyclical thoughts.
The main problem was, it was late. So late that it was early. The mods weren't even likely to be awake. So gh decided to skip out on submitting his votes. Not the other half of his plan, though. That was important.
Just as gh lit a cigarette, he saw a dark figure walking through the forum. For a second, gh's paranoia got the best of him, until he realized that it was unlikely that anybody got through Code Avalon. Then he remembered that Cloak . . . well, existed.
“Up early, Cloaky?” gh said as Cloak got closer. gh didn't even bother trying to hide his cigarette from the Walker, considering that he could probably smell it anyway.
“And you're still up,” Cloak replied.
“Yeah, I got a lot on my mind. Figured I'd go for a walk and clear my head, you know?”
Cloak nodded in response. “I think I can guess why. Ash told me what this Harrison person wants. I know you well enough to know that you won't put any RAFians in danger, but there's still the issue of what he would do to you.”
“That about sums it up, yeah.” gh stomped the cigarette out on the ground. Suddenly, he seemed to decide he didn't want it. “I have an idea, if you're willing to help me out. It might be a little risky, but it's the the only thing resembling a plan that I have right now.”
“On one condition.”
“What's that?”
Cloak held his gloved hand out. And gh knew exactly what he wanted. gh gave the pack of cigarettes to Cloak without a moment's hesitation, then was met with a swift hand to the back of the head.
“What the hell was that for?”
“Don't steal them back this time.”
-
Okay, GH, with that ending, I don't want to hear anymore that you're a bad writer. You seriously underestimated yourself.
:edit: That cigarette thing . . . it's gonna be a running gag isn't it?
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I didn't think it was that great, but thanks :D
And it might be. No way it could ever beat the coffee bathtub, though.
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Thing is, writers tend to be harsher on their projects than the harshest critic. The good ones, I mean. Not those that are full of themselves and believe themselves to be hot -- you know the type.
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WOW, I was not expecting to leave this sitting for almost two weeks. A lot of **** has been going on lately; I've been working a lot, trying to keep up with my social life, playing a ton of Pokemon, and (unsuccessfully) trying to fight off a depressive period. I know that it's really no excuse, but I just haven't felt like working on this very much until tonight.
BTW, if it's not obvious by this point, this is going to be less than the normal 20 chapters for an average Memoirs book. I don't really have the ideas to fill that much space, plus the chapters for this are a little longer than most Memoirs chapters. Of course, I'm estimating here, and in terms of word count, they could be roughly the same, but SHUT UP DON'T RUIN MY EXCUSES!
Whatever. New chapter.
Chapter 8: Plans and Monologues
A couple of days passed, leading to the night where the deed was supposed to be done. gh and Cloak came up with a rather solid plan, refining it to the point where there were practically no variables. The two were convinced that absolutely nothing short of a nuclear explosion in the vicinity could cause the plan to fail. Then again, this being the modern world, the chances of such an event happening were there, but that's not important.
The two RAFians set out for their destination not long before midnight. Having programmed the coordinates into his phone's GPS, gh served as the navigator for the journey. This was probably for the best, as it saved Cloak quite a few “are we there yet?” jokes. It didn't take the two very long to reach where they were going – a secluded location out in the woods. “Figures,” gh grumbled, shivering despite the heavy coat he had on, “this had to happen in the middle of winter.”
Cloak didn't waste his breath responding. It was fairly obvious that gh was complaining for the sake of complaining. Despite the rather airtight plan, there was still room for uncertainty, and when humans get nervous, they tend to say every thought that passes into their heads. At least, that seemed to be the case with gh. Then again, he tended to do that regardless of what he was feeling.
After what seemed like an eternity (or two minutes, depending on your perspective) of silence, a shadowed figure emerged from the trees. “So, you decided to show up,” a familiar voice said.
“That was a dramatic entrance,” Cloak mused.
“Yeah, he tends to do that.” gh clearly wasn't in the mood to drag the scenario out any longer than necessary. It's easy to forgive him for wanting this whole fiasco to be done with, though. And to add to his irritation, the cold weather couldn't have been good for his guitar. “Can we just do this thing?”
Harrison chuckled – a harsh, unpleasant sound. “What, you don't want to make this last? Personally, I'm quite enjoying this.”
gh groaned loudly. “Cloak, if you'd like to do the honors, I'd really appreciate it.”
The Realm Walker nodded in agreement. Without warning, Harrison found that the two RAFians seemed much taller than a few seconds before. This apparent change was most likely brought on by him sinking about a foot into the semi-frozen ground. For all of his forethought and planning, he didn't seem to have been prepared for this. This didn't make him happy.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?” Harrison screamed. In his rage, he pulled out a pistol that he kept concealed in his jacket. Though he would deny it afterward, gh found great enjoyment in seeing the firearm crumple in his hand like a wad of paper. Clearly, this man wasn't expecting Cloak to be a Master of the Elements.
“Well,” gh said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “That was anticlimactic.”
“Not every encounter is going to end with a massive, epic battle, gh,” Cloak mused. “Sometimes, we get lucky in dealing with a complete incompetent. In fact, I'm amazed that it took us as long as it did to come up with this plan.”
While the RAFians were engaging in their conversation, Harrison was loudly raging in front of them. They did their best to ignore him, but it wasn't particularly easy.
“Do you idiots have any idea what you're doing!?”
“Yeah, I think I have a pretty firm grasp on the situation,” gh said, adopting some of his smug arrogance. “I call the cops, stay here until you get arrested, go back to the forum, feed my crocodile, set up my guitar, and go to sleep. I think I'm somewhere in the ballpark with that.”
“Your guitar, huh? The one on your back, I'm assuming?”
Suddenly, gh's face turned to stone. Every trace of his prior arrogance had evaporated with those words.
Clearly, Harrison wasn't done with his tirade. “Oh, come on. You really didn't expect me to say anything? I told you before, I know everything I need to about you.”
“Shut up . . .” gh said, his disbelief apparent in his voice.
“Sorry, am I touching a bit of a nerve? Well, how about I remind you how you got that thing?”
gh stepped closer to the immobile Harrison. “I'm not playing around. Shut up.”
Harrison, however, seemed to be loving the theatrics. “I'm sure you remember it all. Every. Last. Detail. Maybe I can refresh your memory? About your 'friend' that you-”
“SHUT THE **** UP!” gh was mere feet away at this point. It took all the self-control that he possessed to restrain himself from attacking Harrison. Self-control that was waning very quickly.
Finally intervening, Cloak placed his hand on gh's shoulder. “gh. Enough. Just call the police already.”
gh brushed Cloak aside, working himself further into an enraged fit. “No. I need him to hear this.” He turned back toward Harrison, and he was clearly growing more unhinged with every word. “You think you know me, you sick bastard? You think you know what happened? Let me tell you something. If you're stupid enough to bring that up, you obviously don't know ****!”
“gh. Calm down.”
“Shut up, Cloak!” gh was completely lost to his own fury at this point. “I'm not letting this evil son of a **** get away with this.” Obviously, whatever Harrison was alluding to had caused something to snap. Whatever it was, Cloak had no idea. It didn't really matter at this point, though. What mattered was getting gh to cool down. It quickly became clear that this wasn't going to happen, though, as gh unshouldered his guitar. His voice became quiet. Dangerously quiet. “I'm not letting you get out of here. Not before I play you just one song.”
-
Nah, those excuses are pretty legit. You don't actually have to stick to the twenty chapter thing though, if you have this one story idea you can make it go till you get a new one.
Also, for some reason this is reading a lot like a Deadpool comic. :P
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I've never actually read Deadpool comics. I've heard from a few people that I'd like them aot, though
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Cloak also has a severe distaste for firearms, echoing my own.
And GH, neither have I. What I know of him comes from his Death Battle with Deathstroke and Comicstorian's Deadpool videos.
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Can't say I'm particularly anti-gun, I just don't like seeing them in the wrong hands. And clearly, this character is not somebody that should be carrying one.
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I'm antigun in the way of don't ask me to use one. In Cloak's case, it really is a moot point. Honestly, if you could control the Six Elements, would you really want to use a gun?
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Honestly, even though I've shot before and enjoyed it well enough, I don't like the prospect of owning a gun for myself. Just not for me.
Anyway, new chapter. You all know the excuses as to why it took this long, but really, it just boils down to laziness at this point.
Chapter 9: Opus
Without giving any time for preparation, gh began playing. A relatively simple start – just one note. But what a note it was. As the sound resonated, it began to gradually grow in volume, with the vibrations in the air seeming to harmonize. The sound grew louder and louder, until that one note became a deafening orchestra.
“Oh, Veil,” Cloak said, although it was almost certain that nobody could hear him over the sound. gh certainly did not seem to notice, as he began the song proper with a slow, menacing lead. The noise from his instrument faded in a decrescendo.
“You want to mess with my life, you bastard?” he said to a terrified, trembling Harrison, his voice cutting through the ominous reverberations in the air. “You want to bring up what happened before all this?” He let that thought hang in the air for a moment. “You're going to ****ing pay.”
Suddenly, gh launched into a fast, galloping rhythm line. The frigid weather seemed to do nothing to hinder his fingers from dancing across the fretboard. In fact, it was quite possible that gh's instrument was feeding some energy into him, further fueling his rage and, in return, his playing. And as if the sound that emanated from the guitar wasn't absolutely massive before, it grew into an absolute cacophony, shaking the very air around the RAFian.
“gh, that's enough!” Cloak shouted, his voice somehow cutting through the intense noise. “You've made your point well enough!” gh wasn't showing any signs of letting up, however. Obviously, he wasn't interested in just proving his dominance. Instead, he further intensified his playing into a blistering lead passage. The surrounding forest seemed to react, with the trees shaking in the soil. It was not clear whether this was natural physics from the massive air displacement, of if gh was somehow manipulating the environment through his playing. Whichever was the case, it was clear that disaster was very close at hand if he didn't stop soon, which was becoming less likely with every passing second.
“gh! STOP!” Cloak screamed, a tiger's roar mixed with his voice. It was quite possible, though, that even if a part of gh wanted to stop playing, he wouldn't be able to, being completely lost to rage. He continued to intensify his playing, pushing his abilities well beyond anything that he had ever displayed before. It was at this point that all hell broke loose. One evergreen fell. Then another. And another. And so on and so on – the entire area surrounding the guitarist was being decimated. gh didn't even notice the destruction he was causing, as his eyes were shut tight. Was he simply so deep in his playing that he couldn't keep them open? Was he catatonic? Possessed? All of these thoughts ran through Cloak's head as he tried to reach his fellow RAFian. Words obviously weren't working, which didn't leave many other options.
Cloak made an energy force field around gh. If anything, he could contain the madness until the musical onslaught ended. For a moment it worked; but before Cloak could get content with this, the force field began to bulge outward. With a massive scream from gh, the force field dissolved, expelling all of the sonic energy that it contained for the few seconds that it existed. More trees were felled as a result. And Harrison? Where even was he?
Cloak was down to his last resort. He pushed against the wall of sound and walked forward, which was a tremendous effort on his part, as gh continued playing, completely oblivious to everything else. Just a little closer, Cloak thought as he inched toward gh. Suddenly, his swinging arm connected with gh's head. Cloak didn't mean to hit gh quite as hard as he did, but it was successful either way, as gh fell to the ground, landing on top of his guitar. “gh! It's done!” Cloak said, shouting over the reverberations still lingering. He gestured to the spot in front of gh, where minutes before, Harrison was buried knee-deep in earth, now empty. Cloak sighed heftily. “It's over.”
-
Excellent chapter.
Good thing that my feline strength didn't kill ya either. ;) After all, I am a tiger underneath this Cloak, anthropomorphized, yes, but still a tiger.
:edit: Damn virtual keyboard. Had to go bacm and correct this post.
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Whoa. That was intense.
Beeteedubs, that was Chapter 9, actually. Noticed while copy-pasting for the PDF.
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Fixed :D
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New, short-ish chapter. Same reasons as last time for not posting one sooner; work, real life, trying to maintain friendships, and family drama. Hopefully, some of that is resolved by now.
Chapter 10: Aftermath
gh lay on the ground, motionless, as the chaos subsided. Slowly, he started to tremble. “Damn it . . .” he said eventually, his voice shaking. “God damn it!” gh punched the ground in an almost comically pitiful gesture, as compared to his outburst. He stood up finally and looked at Cloak, tears welling in his eyes. “I let it happen again. . . .”
“gh, what happened, happened,” Cloak said reassringly. There was a silence as gh regained his composure, at least, as much as he could. “Let's go back.”
The two traveled in silence most of the way back to the forum. Obviously, gh's song had drained him both physically and emotionally. Unfortunately, it was a feeling that Cloak knew all too well.
“Cloak,” gh said as the two started to get closer to the forum. “I didn't . . . I swear, I didn't mean to . . .”
Cloak finished the thought for gh. “I know you didn't mean to kill Harrison. gh, I've come to know you well enough to know that you're not a killer.”
“I just lost control, you know?” gh had to fight back tears once again. Clearly, he was shaken. “I gotta control my temper, or else that happens.” Cloak stayed silent. He had figured that this was the case, but it was probably best to let gh talk it out. “I should have just ignored him.”
“You can't blame yourself for this. He was practically asking for you to attack him.” Whether or not Cloak actually believed this was a moot point, as it seemed to calm gh down at least a little bit.
“Thing is,” gh started after a moment, “this isn't the first time this happened.” He took a breath, trying to gather his thoughts. “It was a while ago, before I became a RAFian. I'll tell you some other time. Right now, well, it's a little too . . . I guess painful is the right word.”
Cloak nodded. “I understand, these things take time.” The two arrived outside the forum. It was rather quiet inside, being so late at night. “Are you going to be alright?”
“I think so. I'm just gonna need to be alone for a while, I think.” gh looked at the forum; the place that he had called home for at least a few months now.* Even with the minor spats that he might have with other RAFians, it was easily the only place that he could imagine even feeling welcome in. “Just one thing, Cloak. I don't want the others to know. Not just because they might not trust me because of it, but it's just not who they see me as. Hell, most of them don't even think of me as a fighter. And I'd rather keep it that way.”
“Don't worry, this stays between me and you.”
“Thanks.” The two re-entered the forum and walked toward their threads. “Actually, I have to ask you something else. This whole thing was really stressful, and I just need to calm down. Do you think-”
“No, gh. I'm not giving you your cigarettes back.” For once, gh didn't protest. He simply smiled at Cloak.
“Thanks,” he said once again. “I'll see you, tomorrow, Cloaky.”
*Not sure if I mentioned, but this takes place sometime around the end of Year 1. Obviously, it takes place before Leatherhead transformed, otherwise he would have had a part in this.
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Consult the local killer-with-a-conscience. :P
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Unlike Cassie, I'm at least not sanctimonious. I don't think I am, at least. :P
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No, that would be me I was referring to. Though maybe not as sanctimonious, yes. :P
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Ah. The cigarette thing again. ;D You when I first came up with that, I never expected it to become a running gag, but I love that it has.
Excellent chapter, my dear GH.
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Thank you :D
And really, the only reason I made the cigarettes a running joke was because you seemed to like it so much. And if I could make a sentimental moment out of it, I certainly wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.
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Or get you to kick the habit. :P
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HOLY ****, A NEW CHAPTER!? Yeah, I've been lazy. No excuses this time. Maybe I'll actually post the next chapter after this before another month and a half goes by. . . .
Chapter 11: In This Together
In reality, gh didn't quite make good on his promise of seeing Cloak the next day. In fact, he ended up more or less isolating himself in his thread for a good 48 hours or so. The other RAFians didn't think too much of this, considering gh had a tendency to occasionally isolate himself. Nobody was quite sure why, but it could easily be explained as one of his many eccentricities. Most of the RAFians simply assumed that he was writing more of his musical numbers – there was no way that he could come up with all of them on the spot, for sure.
In fact, gh had spent a lot of time stewing over what had happened. The incident with Harrison had brought back a lot of memories from the past couple of years, that frankly, gh would have much rather forgotten. Before he became a RAFian, these dark, miserable thoughts happened much more frequently than he would have liked.
If only he could control this goddamned rage. Granted, he had only let this happen once before, but even that was one time too many. And to make things worse, there was a small, but dangerous part of his brain that enjoyed it. The almost limitless power that came with his anger. While he tried to silence that part of himself, to subdue it as much as possible, it was almost constantly nagging at him, telling him to give in to his rage. And at times, it was very hard to resist.
gh sighed and rolled over in his bed, happening to lock his gaze on his guitar. It was just now that he really noticed the wear on the instrument. Those who are not particularly attached to an instrument would simply dismiss this as a result of playing often, but to musicians, every ding, every spot where the finish was worn was a story with their companion; a metaphorical battle scar. And in gh's case, these were literal battle scars. He'd been through a lot with that thing. Even though he'd only had it for a couple of years, it was practically a part of him at this point. gh essentially considered it another person or entity. Though he would admit that it was a little ridiculous, it wasn't hard to see why, considering how it was practically a part of him.
Suddenly, gh sat up in his bed. Struck with inspiration, he began to scour his thread. Although he devoted most of his energy into his guitar playing, he certainly knew how to play other instruments; bass guitar, drums, keyboards, and he even had a kazoo or two sitting around somewhere. After all, he was first and foremost an artist (and you never know when you'll need a kazoo), preferring making music over simply using it in battle. Of course, he had no qualms about the latter if it was necessary. He finished hooking up all of the gear that he had searched his thread for, and was standing, guitar hanging from his shoulder, in front of an array of drum machines and keyboards. He didn't actually need every piece of gear that he had, but it lent a sense of grandiosity that he felt was important.
Taking a deep breath, he began to play a series of notes on one of the keyboards, then transitioned to a drum machine. Leatherhead, taking notice of gh's actions, began tapping his tail along with the drums, keeping a steady backbeat. After strumming a few chords along with the synthesizers and pounding drum machines, gh began to sing:
I've become unstoppable,
Holding on to when everything seemed to matter more.
The two of us, all used and beaten up.
Watching fate as it flows down the path we have chose.
You and me,
We're in this together now,
None of them can stop us now.
We will make it through somehow.
You and me,
If the world should break in two,
Until the very end of me,
Until the very end of you.
Awake to the sound as they peel apart the skin.
They pick and they pull, trying to get their fingers in.
Well, they gotta kill what we found,
Well, they gotta hate what they fear,
Well, they gotta make it go away,
And they gotta make it disappear.
The further I fall, I'm beside you,
As lost as I get, I will find you,
The deeper the wound, I'm inside you,
Forever and ever, I am a part of . . .
You and me,
We're in this together now,
None of them can stop us now.
We will make it through somehow.
You and me,
If the world should break in two,
Until the very end of me,
Until the very end of you.
All that we were is gone, we have to hold on,
When all our hope is gone, we have to hold on,
All that we were is gone, we have to hold on,
All that we were is gone, BUT WE CAN HOLD ON!
You and me,
We're in this together now,
None of them can stop us now.
We will make it through somehow.
You and me,
Even after everything,
You're the queen and I'm the king,
Nothing else means anything.
gh played a short melody on one of his keyboards, before finally ending self-indulgent jam session. Emotionally exhausted, set his guitar back on its stand and sat on his bed. Despite the draining nature of his song, it was somewhat invigorating at the same time. After all, it served as a reminder that he would still have himself and his guitar, no matter what.
“And the other RAFians,” gh mumbled to himself. True, they often thought of him as something of a ditz, but he honestly wouldn't have it any other way. As long as gh was a RAFian, he would have the others to fall back on, no matter what. Finally, he stood up and opened the door to his thread. He was ready to take on the world.
Source song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=56vLS_KPp9I)
Yeah, I know, I only changed one word in the lyrics, but the song fit so well that I really didn't have to change any more. Probably only gonna be another chapter or two before I wrap this thing up. I may or may not do another fic after this; it really depends depends on whether or not I have enough ideas and inspiration to do so.
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I guess Cloak doesn't hold the patent on brooding in his thread. ;)
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I thought the wording of this chapter sounded like a dark sort of song.
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Yes, I think that bit about the kazoos helped with that ;)
Gonna try to get another chapter posted tonight. No promises
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Final chapter. I would have finished this not too long after the previous one, but I spent the past week trying to think of a song to close this ****storm with. I think I thought of a good one.
Chapter 12: Let the Ceremony Begin
A couple of days later, all the RAFians filed into the auditorium, much like they did weeks before. The air around the forum was filled with uncertainty, as everyone was itching to know exactly what awards would be given to whom. On the way in, gh happened to brush past Cloak, only flashing a wordless smile at the Realm Walker. Once everybody sat down and became comfortable, Phoenix nonchalantly stepped up to the podium.
“Alright. Is this thing on? Can you hear me? Yes? Good.” Phoenex nonchalantly cleared his throat before continuing. “First of all, I'd like to thank you all for coming tonight. I know it's a bit of a hassle, having to get dressed up and all . . .”
“Get on with it!” a nameless RAFian shouted.
“Yes, get on with it!” somebody else yelled. The lurkers seemed to be an impatient bunch.
“Oh, what, I'm not even allowed to give my speech?”
“GET ON WITH IT!” the entire auditorium roared. Well, nearly the entire auditorium. There were a few RAFians that refrained, but the roar was enough to jerk gh from his slumber.
“Are you kidding me!?” Phoenix sighed, resting his forehead in his palm. It was then that Richard stepped up to the podium, leaning into the microphone.
“Get on with it.”
“ALRIGHT! FINE!” Phoenix allowed himself to calm down for a moment, much to the chagrin of the rowdier members of the audience. “First award – AND DON'T INTERRUPT ME – for best superhero and sidekick duo . . .” Phoenix paused while Goom ran onstage, holding a small envelope. “Thank you. Best superhero and sidekick duo goes to . . . Saffa and gh!” The auditorium filled with applause as the two award recipients exchanged a high five.”
“Just remember that you're the sidekick, and we'll be good,” Saffa teased.
“The next award for most likely to have a secret superhero identity . . .”
The award ceremony continued much in the same fashion. There weren't really any upsets (although gh would argue that he certainly isn't the coolest RAFian), and Phoenix read the awards off at a decent pace to avoid aggravating the less patient RAFians.
“And finally, the award you've all been waiting for. I assume so, at least. The votes are in, and you've all decided . . .”
“GET ON WITH-”
“Oh, will you all stop that! Whatever. RAFian of the year goes to . . . Saffa!”
For the final time that night, the auditorium erupted with claps, cheers, slide whistles, cows mooing, and other sounds of congratulation. gh, however, was dumbfounded. “What the actual ****?” he said, loud enough for only him and Saffa to hear.
“What?” Saffa said, a smile plastered across her face.
“I mean, not that you don't deserve it, but honestly, I was expecting Cloak to win. Or Ash.”
On the other side of the auditorium, Broken was very subtly chuckling to himself. That went unnoticed by the others, though, as they seemed to be focused on making as much noise as possible. Saffa's voice could just barely be heard over the ruckus, shouting, “YOU ALL ARE COMPLETELY OFF YOUR ROCKERS!” She high-fived gh once more, and the RAFians slowly began to quiet down.
“So,” Phoenix said, “I guess that concludes the awards ceremony. Again, thank you all for coming, and good night.”
The sound of distant trumpets could be heard over the PA system, followed by an electric piano. As the music played, the RAFians all began to sing:
The winner takes all,
It's the thrill of one more kill,
The last one to fall . . .
Will never sacrifice their will.
Don't ever look back,
On the world closing in,
Be on the attack,
With your wings in the wind.
Oh the games will begin.
And it's sweet, sweet, sweet victory.
And it's ours for the taking,
It's ours for the fight.
And it's sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet victory.
(Yeah!)
And the one whose last to fall,
The winner takes all.
Source song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ANk8xlsp1pQ)
Wow, this fic was a complete and total ****show. It pretty much didn't go anywhere that I originally planned it to, and it honestly suffered for it. I meant for it to be really comedic and lighthearted in tone, but I guess that in my efforts to keep it from becoming complete and utter crack, it kind of went way too far in the other direction and became way too serious for its own good. Also, there was pretty much nothing that didn't feel like I was making it up as I went along, mostly because that's exactly what I did. The irregular updates didn't help things in the slightest, either. I guess that's what happens when you don't outline anything. I do have an idea for another fic, but I'll make damn sure to make that one actually competent, or at least decent. Until then, peace out, ****es.