Author Topic: End of RAF  (Read 34015 times)

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Offline DinosaurNothlit

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End of RAF
« on: July 20, 2013, 10:26:03 PM »
Two notes about this story before I begin.

One: This is the sequel to Enter RAF.  If you haven't read that story, this one isn't going to make much sense.

Two: TRIGGER WARNING.  This story will contain torture scenes, both described and implied, of several different RAFians.  If the idea of reading about yourself in that situation bothers you, please do not read.

Chapter One

It had been five years now, since that fateful day Queen had escaped from the internet.

Five years.  That had been all it took.

Five years to conquer the world.

It hadn't even been all that hard, with the Time Matrix in hand.  She had found, or possibly created, because in the end it didn't matter, the Yeerk fleet.  She had told them about a planet ripe for the taking.  A planet hidden at the edge of the galaxy, a planet they never would have found without Queen's specific directions.

After that (well, technically, before), she had pulled all the right strings throughout history to create a Texas that was increasingly hostile to the rest of the United States.  Giving the Yeerks a base of operations, a smaller and well-armed population to conquer, which then gave them the strength of numbers to move outward.  By the time the rest of the United States even realized what was happening, it was too late.

The Yeerks had conquered the world in three years.  Not bad, of course.  But after that, they hadn't wanted to share their world with Queen.

So Queen took to eliminating every Yeerk from history, who would dare to stand against her.  Visser Three went first.  Visser One.  A smattering of other Vissers.  Then she managed to discover the identities of the Council of Thirteen, and hunted them all down, one by one.

That had gotten the message across.  Well, once she had offered the Yeerks proof that those deleted Yeerks had ever existed.

The threat of being removed from history, not just dead but nonexistent, had been enough to make the rest of the population quake in their hosts.

And so the human race served the Yeerks, and the Yeerks in turn served Queen.  As it should be, she thought smugly.

Queen surveyed her domain, smiling an empty smile as she watched the sky darken slowly to a dismal reddish grey, ominous clouds blocking out the sun.  Her request.  She had wanted the world to look like it had been conquered, after all.  And the Yeerks, fearful of their capricious leader, had used all the technology at their disposal, to comply.

But, somehow, it wasn't enough.  She did not feel satisfied with this world.  No, the world that she longed to conquer was a different one.  Not a world of humans.  Not even a world of humans which now held a smattering of Hork-bajir and Taxxons.

The world she wanted, was a world of Time Lords and Realm Walkers, Andalites and dinosaurs and seals.

Where was that world?

She sighed.  She knew where that world was.  But there was something, unfulfilling, about ruling over a world she could never even see.  It just wasn't as real, somehow.  It wasn't as delightfully visceral, as it was to rule over this one.

Ironic, perhaps, that after she had wanted so badly to leave RAF, now she wanted to go back.  Now that she couldn't.  She wasn't sure why the Time Matrix wouldn't take her to RAF, but it would not.  Instead, it created an alternate universe version of RAF, where the RAFians only knew what Queen knew.  Which was, of course, a long way from being the same as the real thing.

She closed her laptop and got up, heading towards the top-secret, impenetrable bunker where her very most prized possession was stored.  She looked, with her left eye, into a gleaming silvery lens, which was actually an eye-scanner embedded in the door.  It subtly flashed several times in succession, confirming all the multi-dimensional layers of left eyes that Queen possessed.  For just a brief moment, she turned her head to look through the scanner with her right eye, and it flashed once more, just once this time.  All of her eyes were correct, and the door opened, letting her through.

Her right eye was, of course, just a mechanical device fitted into her skull, made to look like the real thing.  Granted, it was close.  Just close enough, yet at the same time, just enough somehow off, to make skin crawl.  A white orb with a metal shutter that looked almost, but not quite, like an iris.  Steel grey, instead of the brilliant emerald green of her natural eye.  Her right eye did not blink when her left did.

She had kept the scar, the interwoven pattern of lines on her face that looked like a cracked mirror.  Even though it would have been just as easy to have one of her enslaved plastic surgeons remove it.  No, it was a reminder.  A reminder of those who had betrayed her.  A reminder of the world she still longed to rule.  It was a promise.  A promise of vengeance.

Behind the door with its embedded eye-scanner, was another door.  This one with a fingerprint scanner.  It, too, scanned for all possible fingerprints, and confirmed that all were correct.  She punched in a code on the keypad next to the scanner, and the door opened.

She walked through the five Gleet Biofilters.  Each with its own, separate power source.  Just in case, unlikely though it was, something ever happened to one of them.  Or four.

Finally, in the very last room of this almost absurd chain of security, doors slammed shut in front of and behind Queen.  A scanner beeped, signaling that it detected no trace of morph energy.  But, nonetheless, the doors would remain shut for exactly two hours and one minute.  On the tiny outside chance that a morpher had discovered a way to shield their energy signature.  There was no way to override the system, absolutely no way to make them open before the time had passed.  The room was completely air-tight, no crevice or crack by which to escape.  As a final touch, a Gleet Biofilter was installed here, as well.

All of it most likely pointless, of course.  Queen was always extremely careful about never allowing anyone, or anything, to touch her skin.  One controller had accidentally brushed against her once, and had had the monumental bad timing to do so right before she had yawned.  She'd had him executed that day.

And, besides, it wasn't like anybody had ever even found an escafil device, anyway.  The Andalites, if they even existed, had never found out about the Yeerk invasion of earth, this little backwoods planet so very far away from their own homeworld.  No, they'd remained blissfully ignorant, in this timeline.

But, nonetheless, there was no such thing as too careful.  Not with this.  The Time Matrix.  It was the source of her unstoppable power, the thing that the Yeerks were truly afraid of.

The thought made her a little resentful, actually.  It was not her that the Yeerks truly feared.  It was a plain-looking off-white sphere.

Nevertheless, if anyone should ever steal it, she would be powerless.  They would find her origins and delete her from history, as she had done to so many others.

She stretched, settling against the cold steel floor as she waited calmly for the doors to open.  She didn't really mind the wait, strangely enough.  If there was one thing she had all she'd ever wanted of, it was time.

As much as she yearned to conquer her most hated enemies, those RAFians, she knew there was little point even logging onto RAF in this dismal future.  This RAF was a near-abandoned fortress of security, the few remaining members armed to the teeth and then some, after the attacks that had killed most of their fellows.  No, she could not conquer that RAF.  Although, of course, it was still mildly amusing to drop in from time to time, just to keep them on their toes.  They still couldn't do anything to her, after all.

But, there was another RAF, full of life and vulnerable.  And all she had to do, was go back in time.

redtailedsaffa

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #1 on: July 21, 2013, 12:46:40 AM »
:awesome: AWESOME! It's started! Already a very interesting beginning. I really like the way you've brought out Queenas a multidimensional (no pun intended) villain.

This is an alternate timeline that she created, right? And the present RAF is another. Because the Multiverse Theory is coming to mind when I read this. Which, in a way, is true.

Torture scenes? Oh my. Now the s***'s really about to hit the fan. :D

Offline theyoungphoenix

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #2 on: July 21, 2013, 01:27:06 AM »
Torture scenes?? This sounds like its gonna be fun...
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redtailedsaffa

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #3 on: July 21, 2013, 01:30:04 AM »
Fun? Suddenly you're scaring me.

Oi. Get yourself to the RAFparty. :D

Offline theyoungphoenix

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #4 on: July 21, 2013, 10:31:23 AM »
I'm scaring you? how is that possible?

And I know! My mom took my iPod...
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redtailedsaffa

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #5 on: July 21, 2013, 10:35:12 AM »
I'm scaring you? how is that possible?

Find torture scenes fun. Wait... I find them fun too, but only when they're in well written literary form. :P

And I know! My mom took my iPod...

Ouch. I understand your pain.

Offline theyoungphoenix

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #6 on: July 21, 2013, 10:40:10 AM »
I'm scaring you? how is that possible?

Find torture scenes fun. Wait... I find them fun too, but only when they're in well written literary form. :P
Maybe I should lay off the sarcasm.
Quote
And I know! My mom took my iPod...

Ouch. I understand your pain.

Yep. I grabbed it this morning. I don't think anyone in my family is getting up until at least 10:00 am. We were at a fair until almost one in the morning. I'm amazed that I'm even up. Shoot. I lost control of n babbling. Dang it! Oh well.
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Offline DinosaurNothlit

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #7 on: July 21, 2013, 05:29:32 PM »
Be patient, both of you.  The torture scenes will happen soon enough.  *shakes head*

As for the multiverse thing, eh, that's close enough to the truth for current purposes.  ;)

Chapter Two

It was a time of peace on RAF.  For the first time after the events leading up to Pootang's attack and the destruction of the Swiss facility, there was really nothing much to do.  Almost nothing at all that needed to be done, except for the RAFians to enjoy the gifts they had been given.  Be it their powers, or their technology, or even just the chance to spend time among friends.

Most RAFians hadn't quite let go of what had happened in Switzerland.  Those memories were still too fresh.  And, at least it seemed, like they might always be.  But the RAFians were still willing to live their own lives.  Not forgetting, just moving on, anyway.

Those months were not devoid of action, of course.  RAF had never been, and never would be, a completely calm place.

The forum had, over the course of the past few months, suffered several attacks from the Banned, who somehow kept creeping their way into the forum, time and time again.  Mostly, the troubles came from Yorick, Aloth, and even the notorious Chimichanga.  Curiously enough, never Queen, though.  Not once had she ever attacked the forum, despite the many legends of her intense burning envy of RAF.  Thus far, no RAFian had even seen her.

Those RAFians who had noted that strange inconsistency, however, generally kept it to themselves, writing off the unsettling oddity as mere paranoia.  She was probably just scheming, behind the scenes, or something.  Scheming, that was the sort of thing Queen might do, right?

The remainder of the Banned, of course, were generally easy enough to repel.  The three of them were little match for most RAFians, at least directly.  A few of their schemes had taken the forum by surprise, that much was true.  But, thus far, they were still easily a manageable threat.

Even the Banned, though, had more recently begun to retreat in their prevalence from the forum.  Once again, it was an oddity that few RAFians noticed.  They'd never been a big deal, so who really cared if they were suddenly keeping to themselves?

More troubling, by far, were the divides that were slowly but ominously growing between the RAFians themselves.  Newer RAFians, those who weren't considered 'true' RAFians somehow, were often derided by those who had long-ago made a name for themselves within the forum, back when RAF was just a website.  Derided, and occasionally even bullied.  Or worse.

The true root of the problem, it seemed, was the fact that some RAFians had powers, while others did not.  It was difficult for any two people to look at one another as 'equals' when both sides innately knew that they weren't.

Most RAFians were kind-spirited enough that the differences between them didn't really matter.  Estelore and Cloak, the two RAFians who could stand unopposed if they ever wanted to, both hated the thought of ever bullying the less-powerful.

Other RAFians didn't really have hurtful intent, of course.  But many still had an unsettling tendency to bring up the subject of their powers in the case of minor arguments.  Some idle comment that they might think of as a harmless quip.  Like, "You realize I could just take your stuff if I wanted to, right?" or "Dude, you only got to do that because I let you."  They simply never considered how it felt from the other side.

A feeling of powerlessness.  That was all it took.  Whether or not the other side actually used their powers, that was unimportant.  It was like having a gun held to your head.  You didn't need to feel the bullet to get the message.

Richard had drafted laws, of course, to halt any outright transgressions.  "A RAFian cannot use their powers or technology to harm, or threaten to harm, another RAFian."  "A RAFian cannot use their powers or technology to take, or threaten to take, the property of another RAFian."  "A RAFian cannot use their powers or technology to alter, or threaten to alter, another RAFian against their will."  And so on.

Richard's laws were enforced most often by Cloak and Estelore, but Richard would occasionally step in if need be.  He still had the power to ban users, but, fortunately, it had never come to that.  Nobody knew what would happen if he did actually ban someone.  The Banned that existed in the Bannedlands were programs, manifestations of fiction, not users.  Nobody knew what had happened to the actual users, Yorick and Aloth and Chimi.  If they had ever even been innerworlders at all.

Richard had taken another measure, in case of the very most extreme emergencies.  With help from Goom, and by studying the strange glitch that was known to occasionally duplicate a RAFian's account, he had found a way to create back-up files of every RAFian.  Essentially, copies, held in a dormant state of virtual reality, of all of RAF.

The system had never been tested yet, thank god.  But, in the event of a RAFian's death, it was hoped, they could be recovered and brought back.  Nevertheless, they all hoped that they would never have to find out.

Nobody had ever really voiced it out loud, but most RAFians knew the true reason behind Richard's laws, and the backup system.  The once-monstrous, now unpredictable, child of Anna and Ken.  Po was growing at a rapid rate, already a toddler when he should still have been an infant, at only three months.  Although, who knew how fast a half-human half-Pikachu creature was supposed to grow?  He was about as 'normal' as anybody on the forum.

It was clear, young as he was, that Po had very little understanding of the difference between right and wrong.  Which was, admittedly, somewhat normal for a child his age.  Still, he was far too quick to want to destroy, to take, to hurt.  As though he took some amount of pleasure, in causing chaos.

It wasn't that he was evil, though.  It didn't seem to be that simple.  When he was scolded for his actions, he was sincerely contrite, as though he had simply not understood that what he had done was bad.  And he did desperately want to be like these people he looked up to, these gentle people who loved him, these RAFians.  But he just didn't quite know how.

No matter how many times he was told that horrible word "no" by the ones he adored, those destructive, malicious instincts would flare up within him, again and again.  Wires within Phoenix's time machine were frayed, bearing the bite marks of tiny teeth.  Seal was missing patches of fur where Po had pulled it out.  And Terenia was almost afraid to go back to the Yeerk pool to feed, for fear of being kidnapped and used for play-doh, again.

"Enough is enough," Goom muttered to himself as he worked on Phoenix's time machine.  His sonic screwdriver, a near copy of Aquilai's except that its light was tinged yellow instead of blue, buzzed and whirred as he fitted a new wire into place.

Goom had been spending much of his time apprenticed to the Time Lord, learning whatever Aquilai had to teach him about the workings of mechanical devices beyond the standard laws of physics.  He already had an instinctive knack for such things, and so it had not taken long at all to catch up to, if not perhaps even surpass, the Time Lord.

Goom was in his human form now, preferring the manual dexterity of fingers for this kind of work.

"He doesn't really mean it," Phoenix offered gently, as he watched Goom work.  "Po's just a little kid, he doesn't know what he's doing."

"He still should be contained," Goom said reasonably.  "He's putting the rest of us in danger because he doesn't know what he's doing.  What do you think will happen when his powers start to develop?  We have enough trouble with overpowered RAFians.  Let alone whatever he is."

"He is a RAFian," Phoenix countered.  "He's the child of RAFians, so, like it or not, he's one of us."

"So, what do we do when he finds out about his past?" Goom put forth.  "What do we do, when he finds out he's actually . . . a monster?"

Po didn't always understand everything people said.  He was young, and still learning about words.  And a lot of times adults used big words.  But he liked to hide and listen anyway, and sometimes he would catch enough for it to be interesting.

The fire-bird-man and the other one, the one who was sometimes a mushroom, they were talking about him.  That was interesting, so he hid and watched and listened.

But his face fell, as he heard what Goom had to say about him.  No.  No, it wasn't fair.  Po had never wanted to put RAFians in danger.

"I'm not a monser," he mumbled to himself, his young voice barely able to choke out the whispered words, and took off running.  The sound of his pattering footsteps attracted Goom and Phoenix's attention, but by the time they looked in his direction, Po was already gone.

Offline theyoungphoenix

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #8 on: July 21, 2013, 07:14:46 PM »
Awww... Sad. Poor Po. :(
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Offline DinosaurNothlit

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #9 on: July 21, 2013, 07:26:22 PM »
And, here you guys go.  ;)

Chapter Three

Demos was jolted awake by the very sudden realization that he was not in his own bed.  Wait.  For that matter, he hadn't slept in months.

What was he doing waking up at all?

Panic took hold as he suddenly realized he could feel the cold metal touch of iron restraints on his arms and legs, bolting him to the steel table where he lay.  His eyes were immediately wide open, looking around, trying to figure out where he was.  But all he could see was metal.  Walls and shelves of clinical-looking stainless steel, lit by a harsh overhead light.

He tried to use his powers, tried to burn and melt the metal with his demonic fire.  But, nothing happened.  Something was blocking his abilities.

He fought through the panic and tried to think.  What was the last thing he remembered?  Surely, if he was being held captive, he must know how he was captured in the first place.

But, there was nothing.  No memory of any abduction.  Or even any kind of altercation at all.  He had gone in, earlier that day, to have a new backup uploaded to Richard's database.  Just in case.  He wanted to be sure to save any 'changes,' even though he didn't really think anything was going to happen to him.  He'd been bored, that was all.

That was the last thing he could remember.  Nothing else had happened after that, nothing that stood out as unusual at all.

His thoughts of trying to figure out what was going on, however, were soon interrupted by a figure entering the room.  The creature, his form split into merged layers like any fictional program, looked generally similar to an upright monkey or an ape.  But he had greenish-black reptilian skin instead of fur, and tiny stubs of horns growing from his forehead.  His claw-like hooves clattered against the metallic floor as he walked, and he swished his devil-like tail back and forth with eager anticipation.

Despite his predicament, Demos smiled.  He knew this creature.  Oh, yes, they had met before.

"ChimichangaChupacab ra," Demos drawled out, using his full name, like a mother scolding a naughty child.  "What half-baked scheme did you and your pals come up with this time?"

He tried not to let his fear show in front of the chupacabra, but he knew that, whatever was going on, this was far removed from being just another typical Banned plot.  No, none of the Banned had ever gone so far as to kidnap a RAFian.  There was something much bigger happening here.

Chimi snarled angrily, as though he'd been deeply insulted.  Strange, Demos thought, somewhere in the back of his mind.  He should have been expecting this.

"You serve us now, insolent whelp!" Chimi cried.

Demos laughed, and Chimi's snarl deepened.  "I'm a RAFian, idiot.  What the hell would make you think I would ever serve the Banned?"

For a moment, Demos could almost have sworn that there was a sense of confusion to Chimi's anger.  As though he really had been expecting something different than the reaction he was seeing.

But anger took over, as the chupacabra snatched a large bottle of water from the table.  Demos just had time to notice the sign of the cross etched on the glass before-

"AAAAHHH!" Demos screamed as the holy water hit his skin, sizzling like acid wherever it touched.  But he clamped down on the pain, and said, "Just because you splash water on me, you think I'm gonna turn around and do whatever you say?"

<Yes, I think that's exactly what's going to happen,> an icy thought-speak voice replied.  Aloth walked stiffly into the room, his Andalite hooves generating a metallic echo as he moved across the polished steel floor.  His anger was colder than Chimi's, but it was clear that he, too, was disappointed somehow by Demos.

"Join us," Chimi hissed furiously.

"Never!" Demos managed to snarl, but oh god that water burned.  "Where did you rejects even manage to get holy water, anyway?"

Chimi smirked.  "It helps to have friends in the right places," he said mysteriously.

Another splash, and again Demos writhed in agony.  His skin was already pockmarked with burns.  But, within those still-sizzling scars, a new skin seemed to be starting to peek through the ragged holes.  Flesh that was white as purest snow, a stark contrast against Demos's own crimson skin.

It wasn't bone.  Not even bone could have been that brilliant shade of white.

Aloth stared at Demos with all four eyes, looking very interested at this new development.  He punched some buttons onto a nearby monitor, an old-fashioned looking dusty computer screen with a correspondingly ancient keyboard, and for a moment he seemed to be waiting for a response.  He nodded curtly to the readout, and turned back towards Demos.  <Perhaps, if we cannot change your mind, we can instead change you.>

Aloth was holding a syringe of something clear.  Demos was sure that hadn't been in his hand before.

But then Demos saw something that made his heart stop.  The syringe was marked with a sign of the cross.  "No!  No no no no!"

<Yes.>

The needle shot fire inside his blood, except that even fire couldn't possibly burn this hot or this bright.  He screamed, but he couldn't hear the sound of his own screaming through the agony.  It felt like Demos was filled with light, but that light was pain, like white-hot laser beams shining, shining to escape his skin.  The brightness seared him, burned away the edges of his brain and left raw nerves that glowed behind his eyes.

He couldn't see anything, beyond the pain and the light that filled his body.  So he didn't see the last of his crimson demon skin burning away, like a leaf, crisping, in a fire of heavenly white.

Offline theyoungphoenix

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #10 on: July 21, 2013, 07:46:38 PM »
Aw crap. I dot like where this is headed.
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redtailedsaffa

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #11 on: July 21, 2013, 08:49:11 PM »
The only time good actually looks evil. This is brilliant.

Offline DinosaurNothlit

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #12 on: July 21, 2013, 08:54:36 PM »
Aww, but Abby, weren't you the one who said that torture sounded fun?

And thanks.  :)

Chapter Four

Po kept running.  He slowed down only to hide from the occasional RAFian who might spot him running and realize something was wrong.  They would think he was doing something bad again.  They would be angry.  He didn't want them to be angry.  So he hid.

He was breathing hard, air coming in ragged gasps.  He wasn't really sure where he was going, but he desperately needed to go somewhere.  Somewhere, anywhere that wasn't here.

Did everyone hate him, and they just didn't talk about it where he could hear?  Did everyone, know, that he was a monster?

He spotted the Roleplaying Board.  As he remembered having visited the various places inside that Board, a thought occurred to him.  His mother had always told him to stay away from the Bannedlands, because bad people lived there.

Well, Po was a bad person, wasn't he?  He'd tried so hard to be good, but deep down, he was bad.  So he should go live in the Bannedlands.  With the others that were bad, like him.  The realization that that should be his home, wrung a small sob from his throat, but he told himself that he could be strong.

He ran inside the glass ship, and reached up on tiptoes to hit the button that would take him out there, far past the borders of RAF.

After several minutes riding along past the stars, a sight that Po had seen many times before but never quite grew bored of, the ship landed in that desolate place.  The Bannedlands was a scary place, but that was okay because maybe Po could be scary too?  He made a small growling noise, trying to prove himself scary, as he steeled himself and took a few tentative steps away from the ship.

Deep down somewhere in the back of his mind, though, he knew he wasn't really that brave.  He sniffled, wiping at the tears that were running down his face.

A nearby tree made a slight shuffling noise, as if in response to the sound Po had made.

"Who's there?" Po called out, trying to sound unafraid, but unable to hide the pitiful quiver in his voice.

"A friend," came the answer, an adult's voice.  The man stepped out from behind the tree, a human, but with layers of images super-imposed on one another.  Po had seen people like that before.  But he didn't know why they were different from the RAFians.

"Friend?" Po wondered, his eyes narrowed, suspicion layered over his natural childlike innocence.

"My name is Yorick," the stranger said, and Po immediately stiffened the moment he heard the name.

"Yorick?" Po questioned as harshly as he could manage, although the name still came out sounding almost like 'Yowick.'  "You're bad.  Mommy says Yorick bad man."

Yorick looked thoughtful, as though Po had brought up a good point, one that he had not considered before.  "Not bad, just different.  You know what it's like to be different, don't you?"

Po nodded, briefly unable to form words through the lump in his throat.  Yes.  Yes, he knew what it was like to be different.

Yorick settled onto his haunches, bringing himself closer to Po's level.  "I used to be a RAFian, did you know that?  RAFians don't really like people who are different, though.  People like you, people like me.  They kicked me out because, well, I just couldn't deal with it anymore, I couldn't fight the person I really was inside.  But it's okay.  It's okay to be the person that you are."

Po looked up at him, his head tilted, intrigued by this new point of view.  What if the bad man Yorick was right?  What if it really was okay to be himself?  Without worrying about what anyone thought of him?

Yorick went on, almost in a whisper now.  "And if people get hurt, that's okay too.  It's not your fault.  They deserve it, for trying to make you be like them."

Po pulled away, just a slight, instinctual movement, rebelling against what he knew to be wrong.

But, on the other hand, was it really wrong?  He wasn't quite sure.  A whining noise of pained confusion came unbidden from his throat, as the morals he'd been taught, fought against his own natural instinct for chaos and hurt.  Which side of his young, troubled mind, was right?

"Mommy," he whispered, trying to think what the one person he trusted most in the world, would do.  Mommy would say, it wasn't okay to hurt.  Wouldn't she?

"She's not really your mommy," Yorick said, softly, like he was confiding a deep secret.  "Anna?  No.  She made you up.  She just pretends, you see.  She pretends to be your mother.  It's all fake."

"No!" Po wailed, clutching his head in his hands.  "That's not true!"

"Yes it is, and you know it," Yorick practically purred.  "Deep down, I think you know.  People are supposed to look like their mommies, aren't they?  People act like their mommies, don't they?  Does Anna look like you?  Does Anna act like you?"

" . . . no," Po admitted.  "But . . . "  He couldn't think of what the 'but' was.  What reason Anna could possibly have, for looking and acting so utterly different from him?  Po knew he was different, different from all the other RAFians.  Why else would that be?

But, mommy was still his mommy, right?  The bad man Yorick, he had to be lying.

But suddenly, Po wasn't so sure.  He sobbed, and Yorick wrapped his arms around Po's tiny frame, comforting and warm.  The bad man Yorick . . . he didn't feel bad.  He was telling Po nice things.  Nicer things than any RAFian had ever told him.

Maybe the bad man Yorick wasn't a bad man at all.  If his mommy wasn't really his mommy . . . then maybe everything wasn't as it seemed.
« Last Edit: July 21, 2013, 08:57:57 PM by DinosaurNothlit »

Offline Underseen

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #13 on: July 21, 2013, 09:16:38 PM »
This sequel book is coming along quickly.
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Offline theyoungphoenix

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Re: End of RAF
« Reply #14 on: July 21, 2013, 11:23:34 PM »
Ya know, I meant that sarcastically...

Poor Po. No little kid should have to go through that. :(
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