Memoirs of a RAFian

[redtailedsaffa]

Bet half that crowd was facepalming.

[Cloak]

Possibly, although someone else was watching . . .

Anyway, new ideas!

• Book CCLII: "Road Trip!" -- The RAFians must find and bring together seven Dragon Emeralds.
• Book CCLIII: "The Brush Off" -- The RAFians must confront Brushogan.
• Book CCLIV: "Trigger Happy" -- Covert assassins are triggered, and the RAFians must deal with the fallout of this.

Yes, I know I'm 200 books ahead of myself, but let me know what you think.  A new chapter probably won't be posted for another nine hours or so, until I clock out from work.

[redtailedsaffa]

I think you're insane and wonderful at the same time with all these ideas.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Finally caught up again!  Real edge-of-your-seat stuff.

Although, I have to admit that in the last story I was actually almost rooting for the Veils.  They didn't seem all that bad, compared to that horrible Czarnian idiot, so I was starting to think maybe they were actually the good guys and there'd been some kind of misunderstanding.  Oh, well, at least Aquilai got his justice in the end.  And, yeah, I probably shouldn't be rooting for murderers, should I?

As for the current story, I kinda wish we could have heard what Shenecron wanted to offer Cloak.  What kind of leverage would you even try to use on a Realm Walker?  . . . Which, really, when you think about it, only further proves the point that Shenecron's a moron.  Hey that rhymed.

And I just wanted to comment on the "Road Trip" story that there is nothing better than a road trip with RAFians. 

[Cloak]

Probably not the same kind of road trip you're thinking of, Dino. Let's just say I got the idea from a Ben 10 Let's Play and a show with a lot of screaming. And his offer was going to be one of a wife and family, but I had anticipated that.

Three more chapters to go, after this one, if my math's right.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Someone's Watching Me

Cloak made to follow the others, but something made him stop. A chill running up his spine from his tail tip. He looked over his shoulder, and then turned around. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, but could not help but look. The feeling seemed prescient, but Cloak could not validate it, for he saw nor Earthsighted anything.

He reluctantly turned his back to it and continued on his way.

***

Cloak's instinct was indeed correct. The whole debacle with Demos and Shenecron was watched from afar. By Malice, who was smiling a smile to match her chosen name. She loved seeing the dysfunction, the sibling rivalry taken to murderous, fraternicidal extremes.

Then again, Malice had no siblings of her own, so she remained oblivious to the amount of give and take such relationships can require.

What was unsual, though was that she was alone. Ravager and Mega Maul were nowhere in sight, although it didn't mean anything. Though it could have meant that she disposed of the two, or, far more likely, she left them behind so she could watch this alone, without any side commentary to possibly give away her position.

"Yes, hurry home, RAFians," Malice said, in a pretty darn good impression of Ursula, which she dropped immediately. "Such a shame when brothers don't get along."

She spoke with obvious insincerity as she idly checked her claws.

"Such conflict in the world nowadays," she said, giving her voice a wispy, ethereal twang to it. "Such pain, such suffering."

Her smile gave her away, showing that she was talking nonsense to her sensibilities.

"Fortunately," she said, still wearing that simpering, sinister smile, "I know of a way. A way to stop all this, a way to bring this world to peace."

She gave a mirthless, cackling laugh.

"A way to unify the whole of this entire realm!"

Then she left, cackling all the while.

[theyoungphoenix]

Ah! There's Malice. I was wondering when she was going to pop up. Haha. Yay! I'm all caught up!! And btw, I love the ideas you come up with. They are all brilliant!! ^_^

[Cloak]

Yeah. Well, I was going to post a new chapter, but, sorry, I'm just still tired.

Still quite tired, but it's a restless sort of tired.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
A Demon's Qualms

Demos retreated to his thread, head full of the encounter with Shenecron. They had usually kept their distance from each other, an arrangement they had wordlessly agreed upon. Demos was given cause to wonder.

Was Shenecron right? Was he was weak?

Where he came from strength ruled supreme and anyone or anything seen as weak was eradicated, excised, or removed. Strength was everything, and weakness was shameful. Any weakness. Going soft was the worse thing conceivable to happen to any of his kind.

Demos stood, gazing at his hands, at his claws. His kind did not demonstrate restraint very often, they did not rein in their hostile instincts frequently. Yet, in his tenure as a RAFian, he did all those things, and frequently, out of habit. He stared intently at the subtly glowing blue Mark on his right hand. He's been a RAFian for so long . . . has it proven detrimental instead of beneficial? Had he lost the way of his kind? And, if he bad, was it really a bad thing?

Surely, if the others of his kind discovered this (as he was sure that Shenecron wouldn't keep it a closely-held secret), he would be ostracized and alienated from them. But . . . were they really his kind anymore? Did he really have anything in common with them other than blood and species?

He looked around as he paced aroun in thought. He decorated his thread in reds and blacks, witha hellish motif. Yet it was better, and more comfortable than the actual place. The thread had clear air and smooth ground, while his homeland was toxic hair and ground of broken glass.

Would it really be bad to be seperate from other demons? He wasn't the only one who has gone through a similar ordeal he realized. Cloak had been essentially been ostracized and condescended by others of his kind because of his choice of not only befriending Realm Dwellers (which a majority of Realm Walkers look down upon) but in choosing to live among them, rather than returning to the Nexus each night.

How did he do it? Demos wondered. How does he go about his day, knowing that his name was a joke amongst his kind? Could he, Demos, do the same?

He bowed his head, sighed deeply, as he sat upon a bed with fiery red sheets and a black bone frame. He blinked his eyes open as he spoke aloud, " I wish I knew."

[DinosaurNothlit]

You know, I always kinda wondered how Demos must feel, as probably the only 'good' demon in existence.  Very interesting insight into his character.

[Cloak]

Yeah.

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Sympathy For the Demon

"Sakki -- no."

"Outta my way, Realm Walker, he's moped enough."

"It's been five minutes."

"It has not," she protested indignantly, "it has been two hours and you know it."

"Give him time," Cloak insisted.

"He's spent enough time wallowing in self-pity."

"He's not wallowing," Cloak said with conviction. "Demos requires time to sort through his emotions, take inventory --"

"How d'you know?" Sakki interjected.

Cloak said nothing, but said it all with a combination of silence and a glare. Sakki softened a bit at this, but Cloak went ahead and said it, "Because I've been in the precise position that Demos now sits."

"Cloak, sorry, I --"

"It's not important, don't apologize," Cloak said, dismissively. "But this is hardly something that anyone, not even Demos can accomplish in a mere few hours, your time. It took a week or two to accept it."

"Accept it?"

"Demos must recieve the same ostracism that I do from both our representive kinds," Cloak said, thoughtfully, reminiscingly. "He's a good demon, a misnomer if there is one, which probwbly puts him at odds with others of his kind -- if Shenecron's reaction is anything to go by. While I, myself, have been looked down upon and condescended to by most other Walkers."

"Why?"

It was clear she was inquiring about the latter bit. Cloak answered, "Why is my name a joke to those Realm Walkers? Because I chose to make my home here, in-Realm. Because I eschew living in the Nexus, the homeland of my kind. Because I prefer the company of Dwellers then those pretentious bigots."

[Cloak]

Last chapter of this book. May be short.

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Demos's Decision

Demos stayed in his thread, ruminating over the things Shenecron said and implied and inferred. He was not wearing his usual silk suit, but a bloodred housecoat of some sort of silky material with fluffy black trim. He wore pajamas of the same color scheme beneath it.

He continued to mull over all the permutations of what his half-brother said, and the veracity of the truth of it. He began to wonder what led him to become a RAFian . . . he always tried to avoid dwelling in the past . . .

Then . . . why the homeland was he sitting here? In his pajamas and housecoat? With a hankering for bonbons?

"Man, I'm getting too emo," he muttered with a chuckle. Then he stood and his body below his neck was engulfed in flames. When they abated, he was wearing a crimson silk suit and necktie, with a midnight black shirt underneath and polished black pennyloafers. He added black gloves and a stylish black derby with a bloodred band around it. "It's about time I got my head on straight. I came to RAF for clarity, and clarity they gave me."

He looked off in thought, and said aloud, "Who cares what he says about me? And to who he says it? I cannot change others perception of me. I will not waste energy trying. I am what I am, and I cannot be anything more then true to who I am."

He squared his shoulders and took a ddep breath, continuing to speak to himself. "I am a demon. I am not malevolent, not truly. I harbor no darkness in my heart."

He thought of Maul and how he ruthlessly he treated him. He felt remorse and guilt for that act once more.

"I know that I am not . . . not of pure heart. I am capable of regret, remorse, and guilt. No other demon has shown such things in a genuine, sincere way." he spoke to himself again. "But I am what my history, my choices, have made me. I am a demon, but, more importantly, I am a RAFian. That is all that there is to say about that. Now, enough introspection for this century."

Then he left his thread to join the knot of RAFians headed to the cafe, eatery, mess hall, whatever you want to call it.

[redtailedsaffa]

Wow. That was amazing. Especially the last few chapters.

The PDF will be a bit late, since I'm busy with the uni debate tournament tomorrow.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Excellent book.  I absolutely loved the message of it, that you are what you are and you can't let others judge you by their own standards.  So true!

[Cloak]

Thanks, Dino.

And don't worry, Saffa, the next chapter will be a little late too. Winding down after hangin' out with my friend.

Okay, let's start this thing.

BOOK LVI:
Of One Mind
CHAPTER ONE:
A Timely Holiday

A week or so had passed since the whole Shenecron business, and Demos had returned to being his normal self. In fact, nothing out of the ordinary happened recently, so RAF was given an odd reprieve. They weren't used to uninterrupted downtime, but many were taking advantage of it. Fortunately, this reprieve was during a sunny, warm weather. Dino snoozed in the sun-dappled light of the surrounding forest, while Horse and Block frolicked in the water of the lake.

But Saffa, Abby, Gaz, and several other RAFians grumbled at this, as they had to use this time to catch up on forgotten schoolwork. It was so incredibly tempting to shirk the horrid bookwork for the frivolity of free time. But they had to resist such temptations.

Aquilai meanwhile thought this a prudent time for a holiday in another time. He was saying his good-byes when he had noticed that the resident Realm Walker was absent. Far from being hurt, Aquilai felt exasperation. He turned to Shenmue, who was passing, and asked, "He's at the cliff again, isn't he?"

"Where else?" she replied, knowing immediately to whom he preferred.

Aquilai sighed knowingly, and prepared to leave in his TARDIS.

***

Cloak stood at the very apex of the cliff that overlooked the city, which from this viewpoint, looked rather like a circuit-like termite mound. But it wasn't down he looked, but up. He did not know how, he did not know why, but he knew that something was going on. It was difficult to explain.

He could not sense evil in the traditional sense. It was more like a ripple or . . . or . . . or one of those "fixed points of time" that Aquilai went on about. Cloak did not know if that is what it was, undeniably. But it was obvious that something big was underway.

Something big . . . something dangerous . . . something dark. . . .

***

"Why the bloody 'ell would I know where she has gone, ya mangy, tin-plated --" Mega Maul said, thickly. Ravager snarled savagely, to which Mega Maul snarled back, "Don't you take that tone with me Scraplet-bag! She don't tell me everything, and I don't question her or her motives."

Ravager snarled and roared a bit.

"Now, them's fighting words!"

[Underseen]

Great! The Unmind book has come.

[Cloak]

You're missing an "i" in there, Underseen. Unimind.

CHAPTER TWO:
Of Myths and Maps

Malice was nowhere near RAF, to begin with. She stood around inky blackness, as if her environment reflected her soul. She was reviewing a piece of paper, lit by a single light, revealing a myth of the Unimind. The Unimind was a spherical energy construct that enabled the hive mind of stout, small light green aliens in predominantly blue jumpsuits to connect their minds together equally. No one knew how these aliens, these L'G'Ms, minds worked with or without their hive mind. All that was known was that L'G'Ms were industrious workers who never complained about their work or thought independantly.

But they, their home planet, and their Unimind were regarded as little more than myth, and any who believed was often treated with the same derision as those who hear voices and such. But Malice had deaigns on that Unimind. She did not entail to anyone what her schemes with the glowing mythical orb dealt with, other than mutterings of "unification" and "world peace".

And, as with all things so covetous to people such as Malice, it was not, could not, be so easy to find. But she happened upon this except. A long forgotten scrap of parchment. It was not a.map to the place, but it was nearly as useful. It detailed three possible places were the components of the map were spirited away.

The places were not the most inviting places to venture into. But Malice was arrogant enough not to know fear at these places, as not much, if any, could kill a Realm Walker inside the realms. But such thinking could lead to serious hubris and underestimating the dangers of a realm. And Malice really was one to throw caution to the wind on the odd occasion.

She studied the sheet of parchment again, attempting to divine more information from it. It held no more than what she already gleaned. She tucked it inside an interior pocket, and looked out into the vastness of the Prime Universe cosmos and decided that she need a means of transport. This Unimind was not on Earth.

***

"I'm commandeering your spacecraft," Malice said, appearing suddenly from the dark. She scared the turnip vendor near to death. "You will take me off-planet."

"It's a pickup truck," he replied in a drawling voice.

"That's all and well," Malice said. "Now pilot it to these coordinates for me, if you value your life."

Needless to say, it didn't go so well from there.