Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
The Battle Usurper

It was Sam, host of the Spectre, who spoke. He had clearly taken umbrage at the Rider claiming to be the Spirit of Vengeance, when the Spectre itself held that title. It wasn't about to let any old superpowered individual take it away from him.

"Sam! I can handle this," Cloak said, miffed.

"No. No, you can't." Demos contradicted.

"Shut up, Demos. No one asked you." Cloak snapped moodily.

"I got this, Cloak," Spectre said.

Cloak wanted to argue, but could easily see the futility of putting forth the effort of arguing his case. This caused Cloak to feel a modicum of oppobrium and scorn. Cloak felt no guilt from his obloquy towards Demos, but he was so sure that he could do it.

"I'm the Spirit of Vengeance!" the Rider spouted suddenly, almost as if reminding the RAFians that he, or they, were still there.

"No," Spectre said, quite austere, "I am."

"No, we -- I am!"

"No, me."

"No, me!"

"No, me!"

"Well," Demos said, flippantly, "that was mature."

"Shut up!" both said.

"Demos, do you realize the sheer amount of collateral damage that will occur if these two clash?" Cloak said.

"The Rider doesn't have a chance," Demos said. "Even with Zarathos being what he is."

"Did you just not hear a word I said?" Cloak asked. "Don't you realize the damage that a clash between these two could cause."

"No more than you did," Demos answered.

Cloak felt a deep sense of shame, but did not say anything about it.

"Besides," Demos said, "this battle will be incredibly one-sided."

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
One-Sided

"My point still --" Cloak began, as the two began to fight. The force of Spectre's blow caused air to rush forward and Cloak attempted to limit any consequential collateral damage. This filled his priority list in this, as limiting the collateral damage could also limit possible causalities.

Spectre wasn't like the Rider in that Sam wasn't holding back the spirit of the Spectre, who was following his direction without question or argument, while Nicholas was struggling to hold back Zarathos, forbidding him free rein. Cloak understood that, except the elements and his own emotions were not sentient.

The Rider seemed to be a real disadvantage, as Demos predicted. Spectre was completely overpowering him. And people thought Cloak was OP. It really was one-sided, but the Rider still had one trump card. One he hadn't considered using, hadn't remembered he had during the heat of the battle.

He was being beat down by Spectre, who was starting to become overconfident and ****y with this battle. Overconfidence and ****iness were a dangerous ****tail to have, and Spectre had took it.

"Feel your sin," the Ghost Rider said, firing his Penance Stare into Spectre's eyes. "Suffer eternal punishment for it."

Sam could feel the Penance Stare. He did have innocent blood on his hands, although he never intended to harm those gladiators on Gamemaster's ship. He had no choice. But they were "repurposed" in the entechment chamber. Because of him. He had no choice in the matter, but it was by his hand, his ring, that they fell to their deaths. He bore some responsibility for it, he felt. Then again, were their hands clean of innocent blood themselves?

Spectre wasn't much better. He had killed many in the name of his role as the Spirit of Vengeance. He claimed that he was the personification of the rage of some omnipotent, omnipresent god, but that wasn't ever really substantiated. Many of the dead were not innocent, but not all of them were guilty. These were the ones that got caught in the crossfire.

But he could resist the Stare turning his or Sam's soul to ash. He was able to break the Stare much like Malice and Cloak were able to. Only now, the Spectre was mad, and so was Sam, though he did feel a modicum of fear as well.

"IMPOSTER!!! IMPERSONATOR!!!!" Spectre and Sam roared. "YOU DARE TO --"

"FEEL YOUR SIN!! FEEL THE ETERNAL PUNISHMENT!!!!"

"Feel like we've been sidelined, eh, Cloak?" Demos asked.

"Busy here, Demos!" Cloak said, tersely. Cloak was working hard to rectify all and any collateral damage and prevent any potential causalities. It was not an easy endeavor.

[redtailedsaffa]

Hold up. Are they still fighting indoors?!

[Cloak]

No. They were never indoors. Goom, Aquilai, and Yarin were inside the communications room, but Cloak and Demos dashed out when they heard Hellfire Star's hoofbeats.

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
RIP or, You Know, Not

The battle of the two egotistical Spirits of Vengeance were at a fever pitch, if this didn't stop the whole of the forum could be levelled. Cloak could manage to keep it from fall apart for a while, but he was still only one person. One who was starting to get very annoyed.

"You are a mortal fused with a demon, yes?" Spectre asked.

"Feel the eternal punishment for your crimes!" came his reply.

"Then I shall rip the demon from you," Spectre answered.

"That's," Demos said, quietly, "not possible."

Didn't mean that Spectre wouldn't try, though. They danced around the grounds of the forum, with Spectre trying to lay hands on Ghost Rider, to rip Zarathos out, all the while he was trying to use his Penance Stare again and again on Spectre, despite not working the first time.

"First Light!" Cloak snarled, ever increasingly annoyed and frustrated. As if it wasn't difficult enough to prevent all the collateral damage, especially when Spectre saw fit to increase his size -- something Cloak didn't remember him to be capable of before -- making Cloak's endeavors all the more difficult.

The battle against David and Goliath there was going to to reach an awful conclusion one way or another. Cloak just hoped the buildings of RAF would remain in one piece. Fortunately, RAF was more or less empty due to it being a rather mission-heavy day for the others -- the Knight have heightened their xenophobic activities, and the RAfians had to be there to stop them. Didn't stop people like Bern Bridges from labelling them as vigilantes, even though they were the only organization fit to handle the things that have come up -- alien invasions and the like.

Eventually, the Spectre managed to get ahold of the Ghost Rider, and attempted to pull Zarathos out of the mortal. Demos was shocked in that Spectre actually seemed to be succeeding and Zarathos was excited instead of fearful. He wanted to be freed from that meddling mortal and his less-than-impressive body.

He immediately stopped helping Nicholas, who would likely die from this, while Zarathos wouldn't. His power and energy may be diminished significantly, but he wouldn't be dead. And he would be free from the mortal, would no longer be bound to him. Would be able to have some say in his actions.

"Sam, stop!" Cloak said, realizing this at the same time as Demos, who was terrified at the thought of an unregulated Zarathos. "You'll just exacerbate the problem!"

Sam, and by extension the Spectre, stopped and Zarathos sprung back into Nicholas's body, immensely and immediately livid that his chance at freedom was taken from him, stolen! He was trapped inside this gawky twenty-something body again. Without any say in what is said, what is done. Trapped! Trapped forevermore! Trapped at the discretions and indiscretions of what amounted to be a child! Trapped with no power but to simply urge the boy to indulge in what he wanted, urges that could fully be ignored. What did he ever do to deserve this?

No. No, he would not accept this. He would not allow it. He would not allow himself to be pigeonholed by the boy again. He was far older and far more powerful than an ordinary human twenty-something. He would not go silently into the aether of this child's psyche. He would not.

"I will not go back!" the Ghost Rider roared. But it was not Nicholas who spoke.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Zarathos's Driving Now

The Ghost Rider paused, then let out a raucous peel of laughter. Zarathos was now easily suppressing Nicholas and his will. He was fully aware of this, but, like Zarathos before, could not act of his own accord, could not speak of his own accord. But only urge Zarathos was was easily and freely ignored.

This was better than being legitimately freed in some senses to Zarathos. Now this vapid boy could feel what if felt like. Being marginalized. Being ignored. Having your needs not being met. Being helpless to do anything. Now he gets to feel it all.

"I should thank you, faux Spirit of Vengeance," the Ghost Rider said, his tone and delivery distinctly different from before.

"This ain't good," Demos said, extremely perceptive.

"Wonderful," Cloak said, dryly sarcastic.

"I'm finally free and finally autonomous from that weak little mortal boy!" he crowed.

"But he's still bound to the kid's body," Cloak observed. "He isn't free of it."

"Allow him his delusions," Demos advised. "There may be an opportunity for us to exploit in it."

"Yes, Nicholas -- yes, I know your name. Yes, boy," Zarathos crowed maniacally, "feel the helplessness. Feel it, boy! FEEL it!! Let the sorrow grow! Let it fill you. It's nectar to me."

The Spectre was just standing there, watching this dissociative episode of the Ghost Rider. It was odd because Spectre and Sam more or less were in agreement with what they do, Sam guiding Spectre in ethics and morality, but not in a domineering sort of way.

"Now, Nicky-boy," Zarathos said, "I'll show you how it's done!"

"Oh, wonderful," Cloak said, as the battle between the two continued anew.

"If we're gonna do something, Cloak, we had better do it soon." Demos said. "It's starting to get like you fought Garrotik."

"How'd you know about that?" Cloak said sharply.

"Cloak. Priorities." Demos said, effectively dodging the question. But he wasn't wrong.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Well, That Came Out of Nowhere

The clash was monumentally and potentially destructive. Had Cloak not been there to severely limit the collateral damage, there wouldn't have been a forum anymore. This was getting ridiculous.

At least when Cloak was battling Garrotik, there weren't any buildings around. Even the trees and creatures were unharmed, by him, anyway.

"Demos," Cloak said, feeling the strain and exhaustion beginning to take an overt toll on him, "I have an idea, but you're gonna hafta get something. And quick!"

Cloak swiftly elaborated on what was needed and Demos hurried to retrieve it. Cloak wondered how much longer he could manage to keep all the damage to a minimum. He was just one person, after all. The third most powerful RAFian, true, but he was still one person.

It was just all he could do to keep the forum in one piece. Zarathos didn't care, naturally, about the forum and Sam/Spectre were too focused, too involved, too occupied by the fight to stop and consider the kind of damage that he could do to the forum himself. Fortunately, Cloak was able to mitigate this, although some cosmetic damage did escape his notice.

The Ghost Rider tried to use his Penance Stare over and over again, apparently trying to use it as a concussive blast, a la Scott Summers ("Cyclops", who didn't exist in this Realm). Zarathos was taking an inordinate, inappropriate amount of enjoyment in this battle. He even laughed maniacally from time to time, making him sound rather insane.

"Demos, what Veil is taking you so long?" Cloak muttered, in a mutinous manner. "It's not like it was -- aw, [Realm Walker expletive that sounded like a snarl]."

Cloak had to protect the General Building, in the Media area of it. Spectre, in his massive size mode, nearly fell into it. It was only because of Cloak's endeavors that the building didn't fold like a house of cards.

"Demos, where bloody Veil are you?!" Cloak cursed, as the Ghost Rider fired his Penance Stare again, with masochistic glee.

Suddenly, a small, round, reflective item flew up in the path of Ghost Rider's Penance Stare. It was a mirror, and it didn't show the reflection of the Ghost Rider, but Zarathos himself. And Zarathos was not a pretty person.

The Penance Stare was reflected by the Mirror of Truth, and seemingly energized by it. The Penance Stare hit Zarathos, and instead of being immune to his own Penance Stare, Zarathos was turned to ash, freeing Nicholas. It also depowered him.

Cloak caught the Mirror of Truth, as Demos spoke, nonplussed, "Zarathos is dead? And so easily?"

Nicholas seemed to have mixed emotions about this, but he walked off and out of the forum . . . just as Code Avalon bubbled back to life.

"Of course," Cloak said, moodily.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Disgust and Good Company

"Cloak," Aniyu prompted.

"I know," Cloak said, at once. Underseen gets to fight a Spheroid DNAlien and he's here doing this. Underseen had it easier.

"Cloak, dear," Aniyu said, gentle and kind, "you need to forgive yourself. You cannot control the actions or decisions of your mother, but you do not have let it bog you down."

Cloak said nothing.

"I know it's hard, but you must forgive, not only her indiscretions and poor decisions," Aniyu intoned, "but you must forgive yourself."

Cloak remained silent, as he looked away.

"Forgiveness of others is hard," Aniyu said, waxing philosophic, "but easy when it comes down to forgiving yourself."

Cloak said nothing, and would not meet her eye.

"It's not going to be an easy thing to do, Cloak," Aniyu said, gently, "but you must if we are to make any progress here."

***

GH was with Leatherhead, his adopted son, and they were playing. LH was really happy, and GH found himself thinking, in song:

You and me, together, we'll be
Forever, you'll see.
We two can be good company,
You and me.
Yes, together, we two.
Together, that's you
Forever with me,
We'll always be good company,
You and me.
Yes, together we'll be.

Then GH was training LH on his keytar while GH played his favorite guitar. The jam session wasn't exactly star material, but LH was still green -- er, he was still new at playing the keytar. He sang again in thought:

You and me, together, we'll be
Forever, you'll see.
We two can be good company,
You and me.
Yes, together, we two.
Together, that's you
Forever with me,
We'll always be good company,
You and me.
Yes, together we'll be.

Now they were training with the weaponized forms of their instruments, GH with his guitar battleax and Leatherhead with his keytar halbried. The weapon was still a little too unwieldy and heavy in the young crocodilian mutants hands, but he was handling it better and better. GH wonder if maybe he should teach Leatherhead about good judgement first, handing a weapon like this to a six-year-old.

But he was thinking in song:

You and me, together, we'll be
Forever, you'll see.
We'll always be good company,
You and me.
Just wait and see!

Their bond was a close one, despite it not being even a year since they've known each other.


SONG SOURCE: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=JPSfhQkrzEI

[Cloak]

New chapter.

BOOK CXXVIII:
HEADHUNTERS
CHAPTER ONE:
Self-Forgiveness and the RAFy Creatures

Mithril was battling a Nosedeenian DNAlien, and Cloak was back here again. But it was necessary. He had to do this. He had to do this to, simply and bluntly put, to better himself. To lift these weights off his shoulders, to unburden himself from this baggage.

Cloak shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He exhaled this breathe slowly feeling the disgust and animosity flow out as he sensed the woody vines wilt and dissicate.

"There is nothing I can do to change the past," Cloak said, addressing himself more than Aniyu, though she didn't mind a bit. "What's done is done. There's going back to change it, to alter it. What's happened happened, and that's an empirical truth. I forgive her for her poor decisions pertaining to me. I forgive myself for my inaction when those decisions affected me directly. It happened. Dwelling on it will not change it. Continually feeling disgust about will not do me any good. I accept it now."

The green vines withered into nothingness reveal a deep blue wall of thorny vines behind the green ones. Cloak knew what these would represent.

"Sadness."

***

Another school field trip came to the forum, and the RAFians made a big production of it.

"We are the RAFy creatures,
We're very pleased to meet ya's!
Señors y señoritas, too.
The RAFians we feature,
You know would never eat'cha!"

"Stop that, Shock!" Terenia scolded, wapping his snout with a rolled-up newspaper. Shock was acting as if he was a maneater.

"They were probably dry and tough, anyway," Shock said, earning him another wap from the newspaper.

Dino sang:

"We sing so very sweet to you . . ."

Then the rest sang:

"Welcome to RAF (RAF RAF)!
With all the laughs (laughs laughs)!
And the tiger, too (too too)!
Welcome to YOU-YOU-YOU!"

GH, Dylan, and Yeerk Salad sang:

"So, show some self-reliance!
Come in and see out clients
But don't fear giant Pikachu attacks!
You'll learn about pylons,
And thread tie-ins,
And maybe learn some RAF facts.
So, wipe off your glasses so you can see,
The dinosaur, the monkey and the birdy,
Dek contrary, annunaki, RAFian Bear is all hairy,
Cerulean, GH, Broken and 'gator,
Xan and the JFalcon very similar to the scary faerie,
Nina and the tortoises, Horse and her purposes,
Nice, ice, these, Goose --
Welcome to YOU-YOU-YOU!"

GH stuck a stubby pencil behind his ear as he held up a piece of paper.

"We are the RAFY creatures,
We're very pleased to meet ya's.
I haven't written this verse yet . . .
But, uh, I will write it,
And it will sound much better
Than when we had 'wet wet wet'."

Then they ended the performance with the last verse:

"Welcome to RAF (RAF RAF)!
With all the laughs (laughs laughs)!
And the tiger, too (too too)!
Welcome to YOU-YOU-YOU!"

The kids weren't exactly appreciative. It seemed as if they had a five second attention span.


SOURCE SONG: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=4MCdaTK1BaU

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWO:
Brain and Heart, Sold Separately

A disembodied wizard who called himself Kapok Selfalohart was an average magic adept. Years ago, he suffered an accident when used his own power against himself, rather like a toddler playing with a loaded gun. He had decapitated himself, but both his torso and head remained alive but separate.

His head was ruled by his brain, cold logic and rational practicality. And motivated by sheer malevolence and hungered for power. The head had a pointed chin, an almost skeletal head, sunken eyes, a hooked nose, thin black eyebrows, and some sort of ceremonial headdress of blacks and purples. He spoke with a voice and mannerisms akin to that of Tim Curry.

His torso was ruled by emotions -- hope, courage, compassion, and love, in particular. It was motivated by virtue and morality. It was content to enjoy the simpler things, though wasn't afraid to fight for the things it held dear. It was a wide-shouldered body, with thick, bare, python-like arms and an emblem at the left side that blinked when the heart "spoke". The heart, as the torso was known, wore a black cape, a dark purple sleeveless shirt, puffy pants of the same color, and dull gold pointed shoes.

The two extreme of any one person. It was unknown what Selfalohart was like before his bumbling mistake, but it was surely not either one of these extremes, but some sort of compromised between them.

And as it turned out, the head of Selfalohart managed to trick some unwary kids -- and a dog -- into reuniting him with his body and locking it into a shackle, not unlike a metal choker. Then he promptly disposed of the kids, having not lost his malevolence. He transfigured them into a lizard, a cat, a songbird, a fish, and a bone. It was painful as well.

The head of Selfalohart dominating his heart, claiming that if his body didn't hold all of his magical power that he wouldn't have bothered. He claimed that emotions were worthless, that they were corruptions to pure thought, as if they were filthy little things.

Selfalohart liked to act as if he ruled a country, a land, but he did not. He liked the grandiose thoughts and the ambition, but he was still quite connected to reality, and able to plan for his delusions of grandeur to become reality.

But he was wise and smart enough to know that there was one thing that stood in his way of conquest. He knew of them from their legend and tales of fairness of heart. All could be useful to him, or at least made to see his way of thinking, without the taint of emotion. . . .

He would go to RAF.

[Cloak]

Still concerned with the name change thing on the forum . . .

New chapter. Sorry about the brevity.

CHAPTER THREE:
Desperately Despot

Selfalohart meandered for just a bit in his torso's home, relishing having his full power back. Lamenting the fact that his body, his heart, was the one that possessed it all. In Selfalohart's head's mind it was was illogical and completely stupid for his emotional torso to have this power. Such power belonged to strong minds, unfettered by feelings. Such power should have been fuelled and control by incredibly high intellects such has his head's, not the nagging whims of an emotional heart. It was not a fair distribution of power, with his head having none and his body having them all.

But no matter, no matter. He rectified that injustice.

"Hey, old dude! No one said that you could look at my car!" Donald Couch said, with caustic asperity. He was standing in front of a lurid orange Audi. "That's gonna cost ya fifty bucks."

Selfalohart just gave him a baleful look of disgust and revulsion. He had been considering freeing up the boy's mind from the leeches of emotion, but he saw now that his mind had already festered beyond the point of recovery. He hadn't any intelligence of any notable worth anyway. Selfalohart had no interest in the boy.

The emblem on Selfalohart's chest flashed red multiple times, indicating that his heart was resisting, was struggling against his head's dominance. This caused some amusement to Selfalohart's head.

"Fifty bucks, old man!" Couch insisted thuggishly. "Cough it up!"

Selfalohart curled his lip in disgust, and proceeded to walk away, not bothering to comply with Couch's demand, to comply to Couch's bullying.

"Hey!" Couch shouted. "Don't walk away from me old man! You need to pay up!"

Had Selfalohart had truly been whole, with his heart and brain working together as with most other people, he would have warned Couch despite repeated evidence that he was too stupid to take heed. Logic would dictate that he wouldn't listen to the warning either.

Selfalohart whipped around, held out his arm, stiff as a board, with his hand parallel to the ground and all fingers fully extended. A blast of magenta-colored magic fired from his hand and easily connecting with the Audi's door. The blast crumpled it without effort.

"MY CAR!!" Couch screamed as Selfalohart nonchalantly continued on his way.

[Cloak]

Well, with Ash on the case, my anxiety has subsided somewhat.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR:
He Will Not Be Denied

Selfalohart had strolled right up to the walls of the RAF grounds. RAF's location was really the worst-kept secret in all the world. The bubble of Code Avalon prevented his entry, as he placed a hand on it, and it wouldn't pass through. Only one with a Mark could pass through Code Avalon when it was at this level of alert.

"Harrumph," Selfalohart grumbled, "smart, I suppose."

He place his outstretched hands atop each other, palms touching. His hands glowed a very noticeable cyan color. A matching cyan glow appeared on the pinkish tint of Code Avalon. He slow raised his top hand as he lowered his bottom hand, which caused a matching hole to appear into Code Avalon. He continued to do this until Code Avalon broke with an audible shattering sound.

This, naturally, garnered the RAFians' attention.

Dino loomed from the dappled light of the trees. She was at her full, and quite considerable height. She saw the newcomer, and knew he was the cause as Selfalohart crossed the threshold into the forum, bold as brass. And he walked, with a confidently arrogant swagger in his step, toward Dino.

But it was at this point that Phoenix, Gaz, and Broken appeared as well. Cloak was there as well, but Selfalohart couldn't see him, as he was expertly hidden in the brush and shadows. Magic-wielder or not, Cloak knew how to pull a Batman.

"Kapok Selfalohart?" Broken said. He clearly knew of this buff magician.

"Ah, Cody, was it?" Selfalohart drawled. He was almost indifferent in the conversation.

Broken looked as if he was perplexed.

"I suppose that Zak should be around, if you're --" Selfalohart said, as Broken's expression darkened. "Oh, yes. I had forgotten."

"You're supposed to be dead," Broken said, tone flat.

"Am I, now?" Selfalohart asked, uninterested.

"You decapitated yourself," the RAFian wizard elaborated.

"That was a fallacy. In reality, I liberated my mind," he said, with a bored, drawling tone. The emblem on his chest pulsated again -- his heart was struggling against him again. "I freed myself from the taint of emotion. You cannot imagine the liberty one feels when they excise the venomous contamination of emotion, the unbridled independence from virulent feelings."

"So, in essence," Cloak said, quietly, having easily and successfully snuck around and behind Selfalohart without him even noticing or aware of his presence, "you are stupid."

This actually took him unaware, as he didn't expect this, and it did surprised him, though he showed no emotion.

"Stupid?" he repeated. Though his words were indignant, they still carried no emotion, but it did carry smugness and arrogance. "How dare you make such an assumption! My intelligence vastly eclipses your own!"

"Intelligence and arrogance are not the same thing," Cloak said. "And I believe you just got angry. Anger is an emotion, you know."

"I do not feel the taint," he said. "My intelligence is quite unencumbered."

"Using big words is not a definite sign of intelligence," Cloak said, smoothly, "but a childish play at sounding smart."

"You should be thanking me," he said, coldly.

"Is that anger, I hear?" Cloak said.

"Thank you?" Gaz said, with a snort. "Why would we be doing that?"

"Because I've come to free you of your taint!"

Cloak suddenly lost his relaxed demeanor as he tensed. He had an idea of what he was planning. Though he was forced to recall the episode with Van Pyrrhus. He launched himself at Selfalohart, but missed as he turned around, as if he foresaw the attack. Cloak did a somersault and landed on his feet.

"Time to cleanse you all," he said.

[Cloak]

Another long chapter. Still hyped over the seven new Pokes. Especially Vikavolt.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIVE:
Taking Their Heads Off

"Kapok, what are you doing?" Broken asked, as Selfalohart followed the same motions he used to shatter Code Avalon.

"Cleansing you from your abhorrent taint," he said, as the cyan glow around his hands appeared around the necks of Gaz, Dino, Phoenix, and Broken. But Cloak only managed to push Broken out of the way as the glow appeared around his neck instead. "Since you have clear need for my assistance."

Cloak crossed his arms in front of his face, as if blocking whatever Selfalohart was doing, before flinging his arms down strongly, dissipating the cyan glow from him. Realm Walkers, Teflon for magic.

Unfortunately, this took too much time. Selfalohart's hands were already parted and moving away from each other. Cloak was a bit perplexed about this, but then he looked at the other three, his concern grew.

Their heads had parted company with their shoulders. Selfalohart had decapitated them!! He had killed them!! He had murdered them!! Cloak felt anger and rage seething within him. This miserable warlock killed three RAFians, three of his friends. His energy pulsed from him waves of gold and scarlet.

"You allow yourself to be contaminated?" Selfalohart asked, emotionlessly. He was addressing Cloak.

"This isn't good," Broken said. Then he inspected the bodiless heads and the headless bodies further. He was surprised with what he found.

"You DARE intrude upon the sanctity of our forum, our HOME," Cloak said, as the trees became to move ominously as storm clouds appeared to gather. Cloak could not manipulate weather, so it was a remarkable coincidence. "You DARE to come here, and you have the unmitigated AUDACITY to LECTURE us about emotions? You dare to come here to FOIST your ideals upon us?!"

Cloak was roiling into a full rage, a towering temper. The ground was even beginning to quake warningly. The trees were beginning to creak and groan in a most disconcerting manner. The winds began to pick up. It began to drizzle, though every drop was subconsciously and hydrokinetically moved away from Cloak's personage.

"What is this?" Selfalohart demanded.

"What is it now, Kapok?" Cloak said, savagely. "Feeling FEAR now, are you?"

"Uh, Cloak?" Broken interjected.

"NOT NOW!" Cloak roared, an actual tiger roar underlying his voice, his amber eyes not leaving Selfalohart. Cloak given into his feline predatory instincts -- something that occasionally happens with Realm Walkers, depending on what form they are. He didn't suppress a growl, while Selfalohart looked on with dull surprise. "Now. You are going to leave here. You are --"

Cloak batted away a magenta blast of magical energy as if it was yarn ball. The next he deflected away with a backhand flick of his wrist. Cloak wasn't really all that impressed with it.

"If that's all you can muster --"

Cloak snuffed out one with the palm of his hand. He felt the inerta of it, but it was really not that big of a deal. Cloak was, after all, essentially a being of coruporealized energy. He knew how to deal with such attacks.

"Pathetic," Cloak said, not hiding his disgust. "You're not even trying."

"Yes, I am, you dunderous --"

"'Dunderous' isn't a word. You only said that to try to sound smart," Cloak said, at once.

"Yes, it is! Just because you don't know it --"

"And I thought the Toyman was childish," Cloak said, tone icy. "You're trying to force a dichotomy upon us -- and yourself -- that cannot exist stably. Emotion can be destructive, it is true. But it can also be creative."

"That is a contradiction."

"The world's made of contradictions!" Cloak refuted. "Good, evil. Hot, cold. Dry, wet. Yin, yang."

"You don't know what your talking about," he insisted.

"And you're about to blast off again." Cloak said.

"What?" Selfalohart said. Cloak had succeeded in perplexing him.

Cloak stomped his foot, and Selfalohart sunk down into a square-shaped hole. Then he punched the sky, and the ground beneath Selfalohart rushed up, like a spring, causing him to fly bodily out of the forum and great distance away.

[redtailedsaffa]

Whoa. Badass.

I hope the forum title change has a simple explanation after all and not something drastic that might affect Memoirs canon...

And PDF:

[guitarhero01234]

At this point, I think even gh would be like, "whoa, Cloaky. Chillax."

[Cloak]

Yeah, Cloak doesn't "chillax".

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIX:
The Talking Heads

"Are ready to listen to me now, Cloak?" Broken said. He sounded a bit miffed. Cloak couldn't blame him, but said nothing on the issue. "They're not dead."

"But they've been decapitated," Cloak said.

"Yes," Gaz agreed. Or rather her head agreed while her body stood leaning against a tree. There was no blood, no gore. The place that you would have expected a gaping wound just had flesh over it, as if there heads and torsos were always headless and bodiless. "It's a quite unusual sensation, as well."

When she spoke, there was no emotion, no inflection to speak of, to her voice. There bodies seemed less restrained when emoting. It was not hard to put two and two together.

"Yes, perfectly strange," Dino said, in an almost detached academic way. "And, by known laws of physics, it should be impossible. Magic, I suppose?"

"Something's really wrong here," Broken said.

Phoenix's torso emphatically gestured to where his head would be.

"Yes, the fact that we have become separated from our bodies would most definitely indicate something amiss," Phoenix's head stated, "but I must admit, I do feel like I'm thinking with far more clarity then I did when I was encumbered with my body."

Cloak found this a wholly undesirable turn, because he thought he could see where this would go.

"The heads are all brain," Cloak noted, "and the torsos are all emotion. This should not be."

"There's more to it, Cloak," Broken said. "The brainy bits are governed by cold, impersonal logic, not morality. They don't care for anyone anymore, as that's an emotion. They just think. Their minds now probe things that is morally questionable."

Broken glanced at the heads, which did not dispute this. Probably because there was no logic in refuting the truth. Though being deceitful wasn't an emotion.

Sparing a glance at the headless torsos, he continued, "The torsos have morality but no perspective in it. They are unable to see -- pardon the term, please -- anything outside the white and black of it. They are unable to see a bigger picture, or imagine anything outside the short term."

"And you got this from the few moments that I was talking to Selfalohart?" Cloak said, dryly.

"You were monologuing, Cloak," Broken corrected. "You do have a habit of that, you know?"

"You were about to make a point?" Cloak replied, coldly.

"My point was already made." Broken said, quite calm and collected. "But we should look to see if we can reattach the heads to their torsos."

"I suppose we can turn to Aquilai, Goom, and Yarin for an answer." Cloak suggested seriously.

"This isn't a technological problem though," Broken said. "It's a magical one. Lemme get Faerie and Yunyun on the case."

"But we do not wish to be attached," Gaz's head said. "I'm thinking with far more clarity than before."

"Indeed," Phoenix's head agreed. "I much rather not be muddled up with emotions again."

"Yes, we choose not be rejoined." Dino's head said.

"Oh, really?" Cloak said. His voice and tone seemed to suck the warmth from the area. "Too bad."