Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

Yeah. New chapter.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
Cloak Alone

"I don't see why you have to this alone!" Parker said.

"Parker," Cloak said, his voice calm and even, despite his annoyance, "you have never been to Venoxica. I have. I know what we're dealing with there. It's too dangerous for you."

"You doubt my abilities?" Parker said, indignantly, drawing himself up to his full height. He was still a couple of feet short of Cloak's eight foot frame.

"You'd never survive," Cloak said flatly. "Only those that have survived Tartarus has an inkling of what Venoxica is like. The air is toxic and inflammatory. The water is concealed toxic waste. The ground is somewhere between yellowcake uranium and solidified petroleum. Most, if not all, the fauna and megafauna are venomous. The plants too. Except the salveo weed, paradoxically enough."

"If it was as bad as you describe," Parker said mulishly, "life couldn't have possibly survived there."

"Maybe in Earth terms, perhaps," Cloak countered. "But these Fractured Realms are different from anything you know. The physics, the biologies, they're all different. I can't explain it, and I really don't want to."

"My armor could just filter out the toxins." Parker pointed out.

"No, it can't." Cloak said. "The toxins are the air. There is nothing for you the filter out. You will just arrive in an airless environment. Yes, yes, I know your armor is self-contained and whatnot. But how long could your oxygen stores last? I have the old Realm Walker biological resiliency to fall back on. Venoxica will just make me very, very uncomfortable."

He looked directly at Parker, with a burning gaze, "But it will kill you, without so much as a second thought."

Cloak let that permeate for a moment before continuing. "It's why I must go alone. I alone can get sufficient supplies."

"You should bring back enough to grow the cure here." Parker thought aloud. It was a pragmatic statement, but he had forgotten on key detail.

"Parker, do know what happened when kudzu was imported to the America? It overran parts of the country." Cloak looked off. "It always happens with invasive species. Besides, the salveo weed would not be able survive here, as it does in Venoxica."

Then Cloak got up and Walked off.

***

Malice surveyed the carnage she wrought. All the Arachnoids were dead. Their bodies were nothing more than smoking twisted pieces of chiton. Malice had no respect, and soon she had incinerated their entire hive with gasoline and a match.

"The things these Dwellers come up with, eh?" she commented to no one. Then she sighed heavily. "All that work to breed them to survive here, gone to waste."

Then her eyes widened as she considered a possibility.

"Cloak won't give up so easily. Could he have figured out . . . I better go check. Yes, that's just what I'll do."

[redtailedsaffa]

Oh, now you're in trouble.

[Cloak]

Am I?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
Void Venture

Cloak had made it to the voidspace that separated the sixteen or seventeen Fragmented Realms. He looked and searched and pondered which one would be the portal to Venoxica. He hasn't been here for so long that he had forgotten which one lead where. And there had plenty that drove if from his memory.

But he had to hurry. He was not only racing to get the antidote to Horse, but get to the plant that Malice would more than likely try to stop him from acquiring. He had no doubt that the Arachnoids didn't kill her. A Realm Walker can only be slain by another. But it would not stop her mass genocide of the Arachnoids. Cloak was hard-pressed to feel any pity for the creatures, after what they did to Horse.

Gateburst! Which one was it?! They did not remotely resemble the way it did last time he was here, he was sure. He did not have tkme to just poke his head in everyone. Logic would follow that the purple one would be the proper portal . . . except there were two. It could Venoxica or Psychesp!

"Here you are!" Malice growled behind him.

Cloak uttered an untranslateable expletive, followed by, "off, Malice."

"Such language, boy. At an elder, too!"

"Save it," Cloak said not even deigning to look at her. "I don't have time to listen to your banter."

Cloak found what he thought was the right portal, but feigned looking for it still.

"There are no elements here for you to throw at me." Malice droned on and on, with Cloak losing track of what she was monologuing about. She always assumed that she knew more than any other. It's was a pity -- and a liability -- really. Cloak normally would have waited for the moment of opportunity to present itself in its own time. But time wasn't a luxury that he could afford right now.

"Hey, Malice?"

"How dare you interrupt my brilliant anecdotes?!" she roared, clearly still riding on the high she had from her successfully genocidal attack on the Arachnoids. Cloak honestly doubted that anything that she had said when he tuned out was anything anyone who wasn't a sycophant would deem "brilliant". "How dare you speak to me? I shall tell you when --"

"Hey, Malice?" Cloak said, reflexively ignoring this tiresome tirade.

Malice looked comedically offended and fluttered. Cloak charged up some energy behind his back, as Malice continued to puff up at the indignity of being interrupted yet again. Clearly, she was around Ravager and Mega-Maul too often.

Then Cloak flung the energy, he didn't form it into any specific shape, just made it as bright as he could, as he snarled, "shut up."

Then while she was blinded, Cloak dove into one of the purple portals which was right next each other for the moment. Malice was still struggling to get her vision back, as it wasn't strong enough to permanently blind her.

Hopefully, it would be a god distraction.

[redtailedsaffa]

Man, it's 3 am amd I can't get to sleep. Thanks for the chapter relief.

[Cloak]

Anytime, Saffa.

Anyway, I've finished planning out the chapters for Book CCCVIII ("It's A Vladat World"), and started planning out Book CCCIX ("Oh, Zs'Teryr").

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
A Bag of Weed, Friend In Need, and Deaf Decree

Cloak knew at once that he was in the right place. The air was thick as pea soup, yet colorless. The ground was spongy soft, yet firm in some places. Earthsight would be as useful as lawsuits to get Justin Bieber to straighten up and fly right. . . . Okay, that was a bad anecdote.

Anyway, Cloak looked around and saw that he was in a different spot, but it was daytime, as told by the purple sky and the opaque circle that was the sun. It was still murky and marshy here, but it could be that way everywhere in Venoxica.

Cloak allowed himself to feel discomfort for a mere moment or two. He had to remember that he had a very important mission to accomplish. There could be no room for error, and there were two clocks against him. Horse's very health and Malice's inevitable arrival.

Cloak eyed a yellowish-green plant with a starchy stalk and thin, curly leaves. It grew over a lake of toxic green water. Yet, it seemed to thrive. Cloak continued to examine it, noticing that he coincidentally came upon a whole field of them. Some with pink flowers with swirls going from yellow to purple, some lacking.

Hopefully, Horse was still stable.

Hopefully, Malice went into Psychesp instead, mistaking the portal for the Venoxican one.

Hopefully, Cloak could get enough salveo weed to save Horse.

Cloak decided that this weed was salveo weed, and took out a pouch, a drawstring bag, and began to hurriedly harvest the weeds.

***

Meanwhile, back at RAF, Horse's health was marginally stable. But it would swing south every now and then, exhausting Kelly and her healing abilities. This cannot last forever. She knows it. The other RAFians know it.

"Cloaky . . ." Kelly said, exhaustion in her voice, "Cloaky . . . hurry. . . ."

And, in Horse's mind, it raced. She was shown an expanse of darkness and light. A black hole below and above, yet neither pulled at her. But what struck her was the sheer nothingness of this place, a void. She did not belong here . . . no one belonged her . . . Nobody belonged here. . . .

Yet, it was nothing but a fevered dream, a daytime delusion. Nothing more.

Kelly watched over Horse fretfully, as this delusion caused the small RAFian to writhe a little.

***

"That was a dirty trick, you little --" Malice said, rubbing her eyes vigorously, slowly regaining her vision. Then she realized that Cloak had gone. "You filthly little -- !"

Then she dove into one of the purple portals expecting to come out in Venoxica. She was sorely disappointed. She had made landfall upon a quaint cobblestone street, dotted with street lamps every so often. The air was identical to Earth's, except the sky was a violent violet.

"Gateburst!" She shouted loudly, drawing the attention of several violet-haired humans. She snarled at them, "Go gawk at someone else!"

The humans went back to and about their own business, as Malice seethed. Had she looked at this practically, she might have thought to immediately go to the other purple portal to Venoxica. But she didn't, and stayed and seethed about the utter unfairness of it all.

[theyoungphoenix]

Hah. Serves Malice right.

[redtailedsaffa]

A bag of weed, oh dear, I read that wrong

[Cloak]

Perhaps that was my intention, Saffa.

Anyway, I finished using planning out Book CCCIX ("Oh, Zs'Teryr"), and it, unless I change my mind down the line, has the requisite twenty chapters. And I think Book CCCX ("Underseen's Brothers") is shaping up well. I'd tell you more, but Saffa has the skillet at the ready and I don't wanna get hit.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Getting Away With The Goods

Cloak had managed to synthesize a small vial of the cure. It was hasty, rough, and not as refined as anything Goom, Aquilai or Goom would have come up with, but it was sufficient. He quickly pocketed the vial of glowing green liquid.

He thought about how to leave this Fractured Realm in a way that wouldn't attract Malice's attention. But could come up with nothing. He sighed as he prepared to fight his way out.

He left Venoxica, thankful for the discomfort to end. He looked around, and thought that he was in the clear.  But then Malice came storming from Psychesp, intending to go to Venoxica and drag Cloak out. Only to see the spawn of Sage's spawn staring at her. He must have made the cure -- it was not a difficult task, really -- and was preparing to administer it to the seal.

She could not allow that.

***

The heart monitor began to screech a flatline.

"No!" Kelly shouted, as she hovered a glowing hand over Horse, until the flatline sound stopped into the steady beat. But then it went erratic again. Kelly poured everything she had into healing Horse again, but this time . . .

This time it wasn't enough. Her heart beat remained erratic as Kelly continued to try and heal Horse. But, though she rather die than admit it, Kely was tiring rapidly. She had no choice, however. If she left to rest for even a fraction of a minute, Horse might very well destabilize again.

Broken stepped into the room, noting Kelly's obvious exhaustion. Before Kelly could protest that visiting hours were over, Broken stepped up to Horse and spoke in a commanding voice, holding his hand aloft, "Heal!"

Horse's body was flooded with green energy, as green petals of energy flurried around her. It was Curaga, a healing spell. Broken had mastered all kinds of magic, though he preferred Rowling magic, he could use others.

"Why . . . why didn't you help me before now?" Kelly asked, unable to keep the accusation and exhaustion from her voice.

"Curaga can be a very tempermental spell," Broken elaborated. "It does not always complete, unless the circumstances are right."

"Did you --"

"No," Broken said, anticipating her question. "I did not cure her. I cannot anymore than you can."

Broken placed her hand upon Horse's shoulder -- she flitted from armored human to seal and back again in random intervals, usually accompanied by fits of shivers and fevers. She was going through hell.

"Despite the name, Curaga is a healing spell," Broken said, with a concerned face at Horse, now a seal again, "it cannot strip someone of such an ailment. I have no magic that can do that. Not to my knowledge."

***

"You aren't going to save that seal friend of yours!" Malice said, lunging at him, and he dodged nimbly out of the way, as if by quicktime event. Cloak said nothing, but decided easily enough that he didn't have time to waste fighting Malice. And that's why she wanted to draw out this fight -- or she could just be unbelievably lucky choosing to battle.

"I don't have time for you." Cloak said tonelessly, making three swift movements. First, he swept his right arm to create a stationary horizontal crescent of his golden-scarlet energy. Then he made a downward slashing movement with his left hand so this crescent bisected the first at a perpendicular angle, so the construct looked like a crescent "+". Then he punched the crescent "+" and it lanced forward, heading for Malice.

She managed to divert it elsewhere, where it dissipated into nothingness. Malice was feeling particularly smug at this, and looked down at where Cloak had been, saying, "Is that the best that you -- where the . . ."

Cloak was gone. He had never intended the attack to land. Malice screamed in abject fury at this trickery.

[Cloak]

Hmmm . . . "modify-post syndrome" again? Eh, could be worse, I suppose.

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?!

"Nice to see you, too." Cloak replied, sarcastically dour, after both Broken and Kelly unwittingly and unknowingly title-dropped. Cloak deftly pulled out a vial, as Horse convulsed painfully back to human. Cloak looked at and immediately understood his less than hospitable welcome.

Horse's hair clung to her head, her forehead beaded with profuse sweat, yet she shivered hard as if freezing. Her eyes were shut, but she seemed to be in some delusional twilight -- Cloak found himself hoping that it wasn't the Twilight books that were in her delusions. Nah, she'd be screaming then, due to the sheer awfulness of it.

No. No, this wasn't time for levity. He had to administer the cure, which had to be ingested before it could take effect. That shouldn't be a problem, but Cloak had to act quickly before she convulsed back to her seal form. Cloak gently poured the green liquid down Horse's throat, easy as her mouth was already open in a grimace of pain. This stabbed Cloak with guilt . . . they spent that time screwing around . . .

Horse's mouth shut as a silent shutter passed through her body. Her face took on a more serene expression. Her breathing settled into a regular pattern, and her heart maintained a normal beat. She would be fine, but it was a close one.

"She will.recover, but she requires . . . she needs rest," Cloak said, only vaguely aware of how serious his voice sounded. "As do you two."

But Broken was far more shrewd than Cloak gave him credit for, usually. He said, "Don't think I don't recognize it, Cloak."

"What do you mean?" Cloak asked, innocently as he could, as the three left the infirmary.

"Don't hand me that, Cloak. You know very well what I mean."

"Broken, what --" Kelly interceded.

"Cloak's blaming himself for what happened." Broken said, knowingly. Cloak did not argue. He didn't have the energy. He, instead, did not acknowledge this, as he turned his back on the two. Broken addressed Cloak. "No. No, Cloak, don't go beating yourself over it."

"It is because of me that Horse nearly . . . nearly died." Seeing Horse like that had shook him up more than he cared to admit. Seeing how close she came to meeting the Grim Reaper . . .

"This was not your fault. How could you have possibly foreseen this? How could you have possibly prevented it?" Broken asked. Cloak still had his back to them, and Kelly looked like a spectator in a tennis match, or one of those black cat wall clock things. "This was Malice's doing, not yours."

"She did it because I was here, because I'm a RAFian," Cloak said, looking at his Mark. "Had I never came . . . had I never joined . . ."

"Cloak," Broken said, adopting a gentler, more brotherly tone, "you underestimate your own importance here. You've helped us save the world countless times, times that weren't even the machinations of Malice."

"For all we know, Malice was pulling the strings behind every single one!" Cloak shouted. But he wasn't angry, he was lamenting. "All because I dared to be different from my kind. To live among Dwellers, to renounce . . ."

Words died on his tongue as futility washed over him. No matter what he did, no matter where he went, people always seemed to get hurt.

"Cloak," Broke called out. "You mean something to us. Not only me and Kelly, but all of RAF, too."

When concerning Rotiart, this was stretching it beyond credulity.

Cloak heard the words, but tromped off to his thread, feeling as if he was nothing more than a magnet for misery. The two watched him go.

"He'll be fine." Broken said, confidently.

[Cloak]

Let's finish this book up, shall we?

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Fits and Clean-Up

"Mistress," said Mega-Maul, a little too sycophantically, as Ravager rolled his eyes at.this.dispay of overt overacting. "How did it -- ack!"

Though being taller, Malice easily and roughly pulled him down to her eye level. She glared into his modified eyes, and growled, "Shut. Up."

She released him and strolled brazenly pased him, as Ravager shot him a gloating look and Mega-Maul.scowled back in response. Malice was seemingly oblivious to this exchange, as she continued, "If you value your life, that is, Mega-Maul."

Malice was able to swagger here, because she had the confidence of her lackeys' total and unwavering loyalty, whereas she wasn't required to return such loyalty, as proven with the fates of the Realm Walker formerly known as Abomination and Itellsya/Rumor.

"This scheme may not have panned out," Malice muttered, more to herself than her useless underlings. "But where one scheme, one plan, fails, the prudent schemer always has another to take its place."

Mega-Maul said nothing, but nonetheless paid rapt attention to his mistress, maybe discovering a clue to free him from the shackles of his hastily-made vow, and Ravager simply looked bored, aloof, and indifferent. Malice never looked back at them, or paid them any bit of mind. If not for the vow, Mega-Maul would have attacked her for being so dismissive to him, relegating him as minion rather than dictator.

Not to mention that Mega-Maul was becoming more and more suspicious that Malice knew the fate of his brethren, the ones trapped in the dehydrated spheres.

***

"It looks like Malice really finished the job," Parker said, looking around the burned out husk of the Arachnoid nest. Abby, Yarin, Helen, Aquilai, and Gaz were with him.

"Some date," Helen grumbled.

"What was that, Helen?" Parker asked, an inkling of what she said, but far enough away for plausible deniability.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all."

"Oh, cheer up, Hel," Gaz said, bracingly. "This won't take long."

"Thank god," Abby said. "I never liked these Arachnoids."

"No life signs," Parker said, as an Arachnoid egg quivered by his foot. The camouflage was.perfect, as none could see it, and Parker's sensory equipment was not tuned to neonatal life, a small oversight on his part.

Quiver . . . quiver . . .

"So," Aquilai said, with a quick surveying of his surroundings. "We done here?"

Shake . . . shake . . .

"I think so," Yarin said.

Shake . . . shak-- SQUISH!!

"UGH!"

"Parker, you're in armor." Abby said, recoiling from the crushed egg, the laet survivor of Malice's Arachnoid massacre was now dead.

"But I had just polished it!" Parker moaned. Helen allowed herself a small smile.

[redtailedsaffa]

That was an excellent book.

I'll put up the PDF tomorrow, seeing as I just woke up and I'll have to study the whole day.

EDIT: bit of multitasking, got the PDF up.

[Cloak]

Thanks, my Chronicler.

Anyway, I'm still planning my way through the "Underseen's Brothers" book, and I like how it's turning out. Can't say anything more -- or Saffa'd hurt me.

BOOK LXII:
Personal Tissues
Chapter One:
The Magical Forum Tour

"Cruisin' on down RAF Street
You're relaxed and feelin' good.
Next thing that you know you're seein'
Goomba in the neighborhood!
Surfin' on a sound wave,
Swingin' through the stars,
Take a left at your intestine,
Take your second right past Mars!
On the Magic Forum Tour!
Navigate a nostril!
Climb into the Magic Forum Tour,
See the plankton, too,
On our Magic Forum Tour.
Raft a river of lava,
On the Magic Forum Tour.
Such a fine thing to do!
So strap your bones right to the seat.
Come on in and don't be shy —
Just to make your day complete,
You might get baked into a pie!
On the Magic Forum Tour . . .
Step inside — it's a wilder ride!
Come on — ride on the Magic Forum Tour!"

Cloak looked thoroughly disgruntled. The Tour ruined his meditation, granted he wasn't in his usual spot.

"Abby, is that really necessary?" Cloak said, not bothering to hide his irritation.

"Oh, c'mon, Cloak smile for the kiddies!"

There indeed were five young kids around Abby, with their parent or guardian nearby. Cloak did not oblige, instead voiced concern.

"Besides overhyping this tour, dontcha think this is a security risk?"

"They're kids, Cloak!" Abby said exasperatedly. There was a strange Nymphadora Tonks and Alastor Moody vibe between the two.

"They look like kids," Cloak corrected. "Doesn't mean they are."

"Gonna yell 'constant vigilance' now?" Abby teased.

[redtailedsaffa]

Ooh, again, never trust kids.

[Cloak]

Oh, they'll never show up again.

. . .

OR WILL THEY???

No, seriously, they won't.

Oh, yes, you'd be wanting a chapter. Here it is, then.

CHAPTER TWO:
Discarded and Overlooked

A bitter, disheveled man in a wrinkled suit with curly hair the color of partially rusted iron. He walked with a cane that seemed to be somewhere between an ordinary cane, Carl Fredricksen's cane and Maleficent's staff -- a particularly hideous accessory. The man's face was broad and lined, with a weak chin. His eyes were bloodshot and gray, with a tinge of vengeful desire lurking behind them. Of all the possible adjectives that could be used to describe this man, this Clyde Skinner, "stable" would not be one of them.

He was at the old circus area, which was far more dilapidated than when any of the RAFians had been here last. The middle-aged man was newly homelss and jobless, his ex-wife taking his daughter and his house, and a hotshot young punk stealing his desk job. He was powerless to do anything about it, and became embittered by it. Hence why he was here, he was looking for a place to dwell reasonably.

He had no knowledge of the previous goings on, or how this dead circus shell had a rather uncomfortable close proximity to Malice's secret lair. It was also a favorite place for teenagers to hang out to do . . . well, to do not-quite-legal stuff, as well as a bastion for people in rather disreputable professions to congregate and do what they call "business".

Even if he had, Ivan wouldn't have cared about it. He didn't care if they decided to shoot and kill . . . what's this? A book? But how can that it be in such a reasonably-good condition, such as it is, with only slight tears to show for it? The book certainly looked ancient.

He reached out to touch it, but pulled his hands back when he noticed the subtle brackish aura around it. It was a book of pure evil, unfiltered and unadulterated evil. It used to host the Bibliophaetos's spirit, before she managed to free herself.

Eventually, curiosity won out over caution, and Skinner touched the boom, and read what had appeared there in magic ink. It not only conferred a power unto Skinner, but an old obsession from the remnants of the former proprietor of the book's prisoner.

Then the book flopped, apparently lifeless, pitiless and forgotten once more. Skinner had no idea the power conferred to him, nor did he realize a power had even been conferred. The book flopped open again, and this time the text appeared in words he could understand. In English, but not very straightforward English.

"Shuck off the unwanted.
Take what is taken for granted.
Don the new.
Be anew for a time."

It wasn't any clearer than when it was in that strange foreign script. But Skinner felt a strange, but incredibly pleasing, tingle throughout the whole of his being . . . but why? His plight with his joblessness, homelessness, and his ex and daughter were quickly and creepily forgotten, as he felt a need for revenge, but at one who had done nothing to him.

He wanted vengeance on Cloak.

[redtailedsaffa]

Huh. I was looking a bit confused at first, because your sig said Chapter 3.