Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

It is really good.

Now the last chapter. And it's 65 books done. Can you believe it?

CHAPTER TWENTY:
I've Got No Strings

The formerly-fused RAFians retired to their threads to rest and get their strength back up again. While they did this, Shadow returned the earrings and Reversing Mirror back to their respective universes without a hitch.

Meanwhile, Cloak dreamed . . .

***

There was a stage, like a puppet theater. When the red curtains went up, Cloak was upon the stage, but he was a puppet. He sang:

"I've got no strings
To hold me down,
To make me fret,
Or make me frown.
I had strings,
But now I'm free.
There are no strings on me!
Hi-ho the me-ri-o
Free from matriarchal tyranny!
I want the world to know,
Everything worries me.
I've got no strings,
So I can have fun.
I'm not tied up by anyone.
They've got strings,
But you can see,
There are no strings on me!"

Then a puppet version of a Dementor, appeared onstage. It sang -- yes, sang:

"You have no strings!
Your soul is free!
I am quite hungry, you see!
Ya, ya, ya!
Malice had sent me to you,
So I can have your soul too!"

But the puppeteer yoinked it away, replacing it with a puppet of a Black Mercy. With a roughly humanoid shape.

"You've got no strings!
Comme ci comme ca!
Your savoire-faire is ooh la la!
I've got strings,
But entre nous,
I'd use my strings to hug you!"

But it was drawn away by some unseen puppeteer, though Cloak was vaguely aware who the puppeteer was, but not that lucid in this dream. The final encounter was with a puppet version of Abom . . . of Malice's former disciple.

"Down where the prime one flows,
There's a Walker rendezvous!
Where me and Malice go
But I'd rather go with you!
Hey!"

It was at this point the dream ended abruptly.

***

Cloak woke up, still sleepy and weakened. He reflected upon the dream. He was sure the puppeteer he couldn't see was Malice, but things that . . . that Ab said felt like something more. Like a warning. . . .

[Cloak]

Let's start this book. Book 66. Dunno what I'll do six hundred books from now (, not that I have anything beyond Book 357.

BOOK LXVI:
THE MERGING
CHAPTER ONE:
If I Lived In RAFy

Upon a dreamscape, Cloak was dreaming about when he first started to come to RAF, five or six Dweller Earth years ago. . . .

"It seems everywhere I turn,
There’s harsh reality.
I’m only twenty or so years old,
And I’m still way too young to be
This disappointed with the way things are.
If I could ditch this place,
I’d be better off by far . . .
If I lived in RAFy!
In the company of thee.
If I lived in RAFy!
Everybody would love me!"

The younger Cloak looks up and is inexplicably hugged by Dino, at her true size. Before released with Dino vanishing into the dream aether.

"If I lived in RAFy!
I could run by obscurity.
If I could only live in RAFy. . . .
So maybe I will go where all the cool guys go “Hey”!
Or with Slushie Man, on the show that’s filmed today!
You’d know that up is never what I’d grow!
So here’s the top ten reasons why I should go
And live inside RAFy!
I could have better company,
If I live in RAFy!
And do RAFParty night comedy.
If I lived in RAFy!
RAFian friends would hang with me.
If only I could live in RAFy.
Perhaps I’ll be an arrogant judge with clout*.
Or hang with other two-post RAFkids!"

An ill-defined form that could be a kid of seven, twelve or even seventeen appeared from the dreamworld aether and sang:

"Hey, what choo talkin’ about?"

Then he -- she? -- was reabsorbed by the dreamworld aether. Cloak continued.

If I lived in RAFy!
I’d make my OWN reality.
If I lived in RAFy!
It would be as simple as do-re-mi.
If I lived in RAFy!
That would be the thing to see.
If only I could live in RAFy."

Then he spoke the final lyric, "If I lived in RAFy!"

Then suddenly Cloak awoke. It was a full three days after he defused, and he had regained most of his strength, as had the others. But he felt something. Something wrong. But he could not fathom what it was.

*Foreshadowing . . . SAFFA, PUT DOWN THAT SKILLET!!

[redtailedsaffa]

That would be quite something, being hugged by a dinosaur. XD

[Cloak]

Right . . . as long as that dinosaur isn't purple and isn't named "Barney".

Anyway, new book idea.

• Book CCCLVIII: "What A Blast" -- The RAFians come across creatures that resemble the Creepers from Minecraft.
• Book CCCLIX: "The Ultimate Assassin" -- The RAFians come across someone who proclaims itself to be the Ultimate Assassin.
• Book CCCLX: "By Proxy" -- The RAFians must confront a cult whose leader isn't as good and pieous as he seems. . . .

Okay, I don't think I rehashed anything, but I can work around it if I have. And I know that the cult leader description pretty much describes every cult leader.

I'll post a chapter soon if they don't FINALLY call me in. If they don't today, then I'm gonna be looking for another job. I know it's suppose to be part-time before I can move up to full-time, but still. I have rent to pay.

Still getting a bit irritating. . . . I'm tired of this cat-and-mouse game. I also suspect one of the reasons I got fired from my last job was that I was going to take advantage of them offering a free class to me for working there. I cannot prove it, of course, and this just might be some residual paranoia.
 
I need to get rid of some anxiety.
 

CHAPTER TWO:
A Nexus Show

Meanwhile, at the Universal Nexus where the Realm Walkers made their homes, something was happening that hadn't happened in millenia, Walker time. The last time it happened Prime Universe's Earth wasn't capable of supporting life -- and it very well may not have existed. The Realm Walkers paid it no mind. It was a spectacle, to be sure, but it was nothing but an inconvience for them.

The vertical columns of luminous energy oscillated as if it was one of those fountain displays someone might accidentally walk through. It was disconcerting, seeing this. Even to Realm Walker sensibilities. But most considered it someone else's problem, not theirs. Many assumed it was a simple matter of the realms being in flux, which they do from time to time, for inconsistent durations.

During this time the realms move reorientate and shuffle between themselves. The Prime Universe, the First Universe, the universe off where most other are spun off, was usually at the center, but that was akin to saying the needle is somewhere in the middle of the haysack. There were trillions upon billions upon millions upon thousands upon hundreds of different realms (some branching of others, some merely parallel). No Realm Walker has ever managed to visit them all. It has never been done.

But this was not an ordinary realm flux. Something odd and out of the ordinary was going on, but it was really unclear to the average Walker just what was going on. The changes were very subtle at first. Then more obvious when one paid closer attention. The relams seemed to writhe, as if someone forcibly turns another's hide into a gelatin dessert.

No one seemed to realized the realms' bluish hues were slightly darker than normal. Then again, the realms were natural phenomena, and, as such, were not maintained by Realm Walker hand. No Dweller had noticed as of yet.

But there was one Realm Walker watching this with mild amusement. She wore a mild but toothy smile as she kept her hood up. Her Tasmanian devil eyes glinted maliciously as she said, "It is almost time."

Then she vanished into the darkness. Easy to do, as the only light was the bluish light that came from the realms themselves, which continued to undulate in a near hypnotic manner. The implications of what was happening were left unsaid.

***

Cloak was still feeling quite unnerved, uneasy, and anxious. He did not know why. His insticts were telling him that something very wrong was happening, but he didn't know what, by whose hand, and why. He couldn't really validate it either, so he was wondering if he was just being paranoid.

Perhaps being fused together with Phoenix, Yarin, Hunter, and Blue were now presenting psychological effects? No, that can't be right. The other four aren't sensing the same stuff. It was like some lowered a transdimensionak depth charge and only he, Cloak, could feel the ripples. Everyone else was just part of the ripple.

Cloak didn't like it.

[redtailedsaffa]

Nearly succumbed to modified-post syndrome back there. And here's the PDF.

[Cloak]

You wouldn't have if I just posted another chapter. But then I got preoccupied with anxiety and . . . well, never mind.

Here's the new chapter.
 

CHAPTER THREE:
Cloak's Most Prized Asset

The foreboding feeling hadn't left Cloak by the time he left his thread, with his trademarked black cloak billowing dramatically. He still did not know what it was, and this mere fact irked him to no end. It also fueled Cloak's current on-edge state of restlessness.

Cloak strode the grounds with his usual strides, but still the sense of foreboding would not lessen. He was quite sure this was very different from his feline ability to sense evil, but yet, rather similar. It was a characteristic heaviness with a tad of dread. It is difficult to truly describe to those who could not feel it themselves, so these lackluster descriptions must suffice for the time being.

Cloak's agitated state was not well-hidden from those that knew him well. They, naturally, grew concerned.

"Cloak," Kelly began, and Cloak was alarmed to hear that her voice was tinny with a bit of static, like a tv losing its signal briefly. Then her voice abruptly returned to normal, without any explanation, and without Kelly even realizing something was up. "What's wrong?"

Cloak hid his flabbergasted reaction to this voice change. Kelly did not seem to notice anything, and his Earthsight told him that this was the genuine article. Perhaps this was a delusion brought on by the fusing incident. . . . And yet . . .

"Cloak?"

Cloak replied in an husky, gruff voice with a round-shouldered, hands-in-his-nonexistent-pockets, surly stance, "Nothing."

"Cloak, I'm your friend. You can talk--" -- there it was again! The audio quality dipping noticibly while nothing was wrong visually! It only lasted seconds. "--to me."

"I'm fine, Kelly," Cloak said, hiding his surprise. Cloak also hid his fear, for he was afraid that all these things that he was hearing was a sign of dementia, and he didn't want that.

Cloak quickly retreated back to his thread, avoiding running there and giving away that something was most definately NOT right. His mind was so finely weaved into the mind of Prodigy that he could only recollect the vaguest and blurriest of images. But what if that had destabilized his mind, loosened it? Unhinged it?

Had Cloak not been so wrapped up in his own thoughts he might have noticed the dulling colors of the entire reality. . . .

[redtailedsaffa]

Wait, WHAT?

[Cloak]

It'll make sense soon.

To save myself from thinking unhelpful thoughts right now. And it's really hard not to. . . .

. . .

And he FINALLY called me. Got orientation tomorrow at 11.

CHAPTER FOUR:
Going Red

Meanwhile, back at the Nexuses, the realms were rapidly going from their usual benign blue light to a deep blood red color. The Prime Universe first, with the others following suit. It was not an event one would simply pull up a chair and watch with a tropical drink.

Malice was there, and she had pulled up a chair and was drinking a tropical ethnic drink. It was nothing but television for her (a technology that the Realm Walkers lacked). Malice was thoughly enjoying this, though she was throwing caution to the wind. She could be witnessed at anytime as living, though she kept her hood up, and the blue (now red) light didn't throw her features into sharp relief.

"It begins," she said, with a maliciously evil smile. "The Great Merging of the Realms. Only occurred once before, but was stopped from completion. Now his prison weakens, and soon the son of Cataclym will awake. Reborn through the endeavors of Malice!"

It wasn't true, though. Malice had nothing to do with this, though starting the Time War could have possibly lead to weakening the realms. Cataclysm's son wasn't imprisoned directly beneath the realms -- there wasn't any beneath. Not to common knowledge anyway. Realm Walker scholars (a pompous, presumptuous sort -- even more than a lot of civilian Realm Walkers) suspect there being a "Void Space" down there, but the presence of the realms makes it difficult substantiate such claims.

Malice took delight in knowing that Cloak would either forever lose his surrogate home that he dared to have or simply be destroyed with them. That's basic knowledge, though often overlooked as most basic knowledge is for most species. No one in-universe would survive the Merging of Universes.

***

Cloak soon comes to the realization that his mind is working just fine. The little audio quirks had seemed to end. But the colors . . . Cloak was mildly red-green colorblind*, and even he could tell when the colors seemed to be all tinted red, and growing redder and redder. Soon, reality will be nothing but shades of red, as if all reality was under a light with a blood red filter.

As far as he could tell, none of the Dwellers seemed aware of this. They were happy in their obliviousness, too. Cloak could tell them about it, but they might think that he was losing his mind as he had.

He shut his eyes, and relaxed his mind . . . then he saw blue words on a red-and-black background:

The calm, serene columns of natural, glowing blue
Become the color of blood at the loss of their hue.
A technique of faith will lead the way,
And save the unknowing innocents' day.
But beware the dolls of war,
The saurian corps**,
Before the rise of the dark one,
Whose cage is being undone.
This monster can turn darkness into light,
And light into darkness -- beware his might.
There is only one way to stop this beast,
And it is the way the hero wants least.

Cloak awoke, surprised he that he fell asleep. Then he pondered over that (for want of a more appropriate term) prophecy, long and hard. He could only come up with one viable solution. Something was wrong with reality itself. Something was happening to the realm.

But no . . . that didn't fit entirely with the lines of the . . . what was he doing? He shouldn't put faith into such things! One makes their own destiny! It's easy to blame some nonexistent entity for your mistakes, but, in the end, you make yourself the fool.

* Which I am IRL.

** To any reader who is unaware, it is pronounced "core".

[redtailedsaffa]

It's a bit like you've been living in a dream all this while and you're starting to wake up. Which is terrifying.

[Cloak]

I assure you, Saffa, in the terms of the narrative, RAF really does exist. It isn't a dream.

CHAPTER FIVE:
Confusing Distortions

Cloak was finding it rather irritating to live with reality in its current state. It was like being forced to wear a Virtual Boy system and never being able to take it off. Still, no Dweller seemed to notice all that much. Yarin often wore a look of puzzlement and perplexed curiosity. Cloak thought he saw Broken and Faerie begin to sense it too.

"You sense it as well?" Broken asked.

"No, I can see the distortions," Cloak remarked heavily.

"Distortions? What distortions?" Faerie asked.

"Reality shifts of color, sound failing off and on," Cloak said, blandly. He realized at Faerie's question that they wouldn't believe him.

"Could it be --" Yarin began.

"No, Yarin," Cloak snapped. "My mind is perfectly fine. The reality is being warped somehow. How? I don't know. It has never happened before. Even the Time War didn't . . . er, never mind. Anyway, it does not bode well for the realms that it is in this deplorable state of distortion."

"I was actually going to say, 'Could it be true', Cloak." Yarin said, in a flat tone of voice. "In any case, Cloak, could this be a problem that originated from the Nexus? Malice is a Realm Walker as well, remember. Perhaps she could have done something to bring this about."

Cloak felt rather cherlish at this, and said nothing as he considered the possibility. "But Malice doesn't have the power to warp this realm. No Realm Walker does, and there hasn't been any documented cases of such a feat happening. This . . . . this is different. As if the realm decided to self-destruct of its own accord."

"Is that possible?" Broken asked.

Cloak said nothing. He didn't know.

"You're inspiring real confidence, you know, Cloak." Faerie said dryly.

[redtailedsaffa]

The accidental Time War mentions seem like foreshadowing.

[Cloak]

Very astute, Saffa.

Okay, I am currently planning out the chapters of Book CCCXXVIII ("A Gross Problem"), and it's gonna be a . . . a dirty book (I think you know what I really meant there, ). And I wanted to say, and this may be a bit of a retcon, but the general idea I have is that Book I to Book C is gonna be a single year, but Dweller Earth standards (). Ditto for Book CI to Book CC, Book CCI to Book CCC, and Book CCCI to (as of yet, nonexistent) Book CD. So, thus far, the series is only gonna take place for four years. I may change my mind down the line, though.

And another chapter methinks.

CHAPTER SIX:
Wait . . . This Again?

Aila and Aquilai were in his TARDIS, journeying through time. They don't usually accompany each other on such sojourns, but they were doing some tedious chronal chronicling, and it was the type of work that could make you pass out from boredom. So, naturally, they decided to do it together, documenting the "fixed points" of history.

Currently, they were hurtling through time, and the exterior of the TARDIS was floating haphazardly amongst the blue wormhole-type environment. The two were working diligently, but quietly and amicably.

"Hmmm," Aquilai said. It was with a disapproving tone, as he was observing something.

"What is it?" Aila said at once, under the impression that she might have inadvertently mislabeled something.

"This one point . . ."

"What about it? We both verified it." Aila said.

"But look, it appears to have become unfixed."

"You jest." Aila said. "Fixed points cannot become unfixed."

They . . . they don't remember the Chronian-Chronosapien Time War.

"You don't have to believe me," Aquilai said, still genial, "but the data is right there."

Aila read the data and did the same computations and such, but she was still aghast with disbelief. "This . . . this . . . this cannot be. I may have miscalibrated --"

But before she could finish this thought, the TARDIS was rocked very hard. The two were knocked off their feet. The two were alright (Aquilai relieved that it wasn't severe enough to cause him to regenerate*), but they were disturbed.

This was the timestream. Not space. The TARDIS was a time machine, like the Time Matrix (which was incorporated into Aquilai's TARDIS somehow, but that's a different story), and it didn't rock like that. In order for something like that to happen . . . well, it would have to be serious.

"What in the name of the Pootang's --"

"I don't believe it!" Aila cried. "Time itself . . . it's . . . it's . . ."

"Unraveling," Aquilai said.

And this time . . . this time Anomaly won't be coming to the rescue. . . .

* A bit of a jab at how many times he regenerated in the duration of the series.

[Cloak]

Now, a newer chapter. Just lemme check my notes for a minute . . . *rustling paper*

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Cloak Returns

Initial reluctance aside, Cloak could not rationalize it anymore. He had to go back. He hated the fact of it, but he had to return to his homeland. He was not looking forward to the inevitable ostracism and taunts. The first Realm Walker to live amongst the Dwellers, by choice and not necessity! He convorts with so-called lesser beings then the company of his own kind! How scandalous! Cloak suppresses the desire to roll his eyes at this thought with great difficulty.

The Nexus hadn't been a home for him. It's always been a prison wrought by his mother who was certain that he'd never survive on his own. The only real positives here were his elder sister, Faith, and her daughter, Shadow. Of course, his aunt (Sage's second eldest daughter, with Cloak's mother being the eldest) was always welcoming, as well. So, it shouldn't have been as bad as he thought.

But as he Walked from the Prime Universe, he saw that many other Realm Walkers seemed to be evacuating the other realms. Cloak supposed they were just going on the Realm Walker equivalent of a daytrip. Malice was no longer there, watching the realms like a person on a deck of a ship whalewatching. She was nowhere in sight, not that Cloak really had expected her to be there.

He turned and saw, with a pang of pain, that the realms were all blood red and fiery, as opposed to the calm blue and wispy liquidity they once were. Something indeed was happening to the realms. But what Cloak could not begin to fathom. He could not even begin to devise a way to fix this.

Cloak absently looked at his hand and saw the Mark remained there. This made him feel better. As long as the Mark remained, the RAFians were still there. There was a flawed logic to this that Cloak refused to acknowledge.

"Are you Cloak?" came a lofty drawl.

Cloak turned to face the speaker. The voice came from a giraffe-form Realm Walker dressed rather . . . pompously, if that makes any sense. He held his nose in the air and looked down on Cloak. Literally and figuratively.

"I said, boy," he spoke again, and Cloak noted how close this giraffe Realm Walker's voice sounded to Droopy Dog, "are you the malcontent known as Cloak?"

Cloak narrowed his eyes. He did not appreciate the tone of voice. "You can knock off the snot-nosed condescension act, pal. Yes, I am Cloak, and what the bloody Veil do you want?"

The giraffe form Realm Walker sniffed haughtily, as if he thought Cloak was uncouth. He was starting to really not like this guy. "The Council as requested an audience with you."

[redtailedsaffa]

I don't think much would be retconned, though I'll have to do a re-read to be sure.

[Cloak]

Eh. If it doesn't add up, then Books I to C will simply be a bit over a year. Then it would return to the formula I said.

CHAPTER EIGHT:
Council Contempt

"I don't need you putting your paws all over me, you pompous buffoon." Cloak snarled, as the giraffe Realm Walker -- Buffoon -- tried to forcibly escort Cloak to the Council chambers. "I know the way!"

"Believe me," Buffoon said, sniffing superciliously, "I take no pleasure in escorting someone such as yourself."

Cloak was getting irritated. "And what do you mean by that? That you find it offensive that I prefer the company of more humble, noble beings then pretentious, ostentatious, swaggering fools like yourself? That prefer to distance myself from the corruption of the Council?"

"Whatever," Buffoon said indifferently, ostensibly checking is hoof-like fingernails.

Cloak felt nettled. Conversing with this dolt was nothing like conversing with the RAFians. Even Rotiart made for more scintillating conversation. And that was saying something. Not to mention that his clothing choice was the vulgarest of kitsch.

Cloak quickly left his unwanted escort as he strode into the Council chambers. Cloak was right in his earlier belief that the Council had been replaced yet again. The Council was, once again, an all-male Council. Upon the seats sat an anthropomorphic Stymphalian bird known as "Cutthroat", an anthropomorphic orthrus (that is to say, a bicephalic dog) who was known as "Sinner", an anthropomorphic land shark called "Ripper", and a disgusting anthropophage called "Blot". Their leader, the Head Councilor, was a bicephalic, tailless dragon called "Hunger". Cloak knew of all of them, and knew with certainty that they were all corrupt, with destructive, animalistic rages.

Cutthroat was a Realm Walker who was very ichor-thirst, merciless, and barbaric. He can inspire fear into may Realm Walkers, but Cloak was not one of them. He was overly violent, and had a seemingly insatiable ichor-thirst, which Cloak thought made him an odd choice for a politician.

Sinner was a sadistic, predatory Realm Walker, but out of Malice's league in that respect. He is also relentless in pursuit, which he would pursue with a single-minded obsessiveness. But he is laughably terrified of smaller Realm Walkers and beings, which he tries to destroy out of this fear.

Ripper was obsessed with who was superiority, which stems from a hidden, but massive, inferiority complex. Ripper's complex is even more severe than Cloak's own. He often transfers the qualities he dislikes of himself upon others, which he tries to destroy.

Blot was disgusting personified. He had things of questionable natures oozing out from his skin that Cloak would remain happy just not knowing what it was. Blot was the typical bullying bruiser type, who had to have his robes be low-cut as his face was in his humanoid chest.

Hunger was the worse of the lot, hence why he was the leader. He was a decent strategist, but a glutton. He was rather like a Taxxon, afraid of never having enough. Which, as Cloak considered, made him a perfect politician, and plutocrat. He also enjoyed rampant, wanton destruction.

Together, they were an abomination*. They clearly didn't earn their seats, but more likely usurped them by force. They weren't smart enough for the positions, though, and Cloak knew them to be in the Oblivion Gate, last he knew.

"Well, well, well," Cloak said, with narrowed eyes and obvious contempt, wondering if he was being decieved. "Here we are with the 'Council'."

"You will address us with respect." Ripper snarled.

"Ah. So, you didn't speak with your predecessors, then." Cloak said, as he folded his arms. "I will address you with respect, Ripper, when you earn it. Not because you told me to."

"You do as we command!" Hunger roared with one head as the other was chowing down on some unseen thing that was apparently very messy.

"Save your grandiose posturing," Cloak replied back, not remotely afraid of these dolts. "What do you want?"

"We are closing off the realms," Cutthroat said, his bronze beak reverberating slightly with each word. "The Merging is upon us."

Cloak was taken aback, but he knew he really shouldn't be surprised, considering these five's backgrounds. "You would just write off millions of billions of lives."

"Yes," Cutthroat said, not even bothering to hide his bloodthirsty zeal. "The realms are of no consequence."

"You all disgust me." Cloak spat.

"You are not to go back," Sinner barked, as his other head was sniffing the counter before him. Then the heads changed position, "That is a direct order. Do not break it. You know the consequences."

Cloak narrowed his eyes.


*Bit of a hint to where I got the idea for this council.