Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER THREE:
An Obvious Secret

Helen didn't discover her stowaway until she had arrived at the forum and had retired to her own thread. She and Parker had decided to take things slow, and were not even living with each other yet. They had decided on a long courtship.

When she set her bag down, the tiny, fluffy Mogwai tumbled out of the bag and hid under Helen's bed. Helen had bore witness to this.

"There, there.  You're safe.  Nobody's gonna hurt you." she cooed at the cuddly creature.

Then she sang, in a melodic voice:

"Poor frightened baby.
Wandering on your own.
You've been through a lot,
Haven't you, little tot?"

Then she cooed, "Poor tot -- where's your mother, where's your family? Don't worry, little tot, we'll take care of you."

Then she sang again:

"Everybody needs a family.
No one should be alone.
Now, Parker and me,
We're goin' to be the family you've never known!
Just a little love,
And you'll be good as new.
In just a little while,
Watch your smile come shining through.
You're just a little scared,
You need a friend today.
You need a little love,
How can I turn away?"

The Mogwai inched closer to Helen, but outside the light cast by her lamp. "There you go," she prodded gently. Then she continued to sing:

"Just a little a love, that's how we'll begin.
Show you I care.
Being there to tuck you in.
You'll begin to grow,
Each and every day.
Just a little love
Can go a long, long way!"

She smiled, as the Mogwai ambled into her lap, like a small dog or cat. But Helen didn't realize that her song carried. While a number of RAFians did not appear to hear, Cloak did. He hoped that Helen wasn't harboring what he thought he had smelled in the forum.

It was a scent he only smelled once or twice before and had hoped never to smell again.

[redtailedsaffa]

I never did like keeping pets.

[Cloak]

I didn't really have a choice. My mom used to get pets, hold interest in them for a couple of days, and then delegate me to take care of them, back when I lived with her. She got a new cat, Sheba, when I wasn't even over the death of our last one. Then again, she never asked me. I was just there to cook, clean, take care of the trash, etc. and, yet, in her mind, I guess she thought that I still didn't pull my weight.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR:
Bathed in Defiance

Helen did not know what she had gotten into.

She did not know the three rules for Mogwai ownership. She did not know of the dangers of the supernatural creature. She did not know that sunlight was fatal to them. She did not know never to get them wet. She did not know to never feed them after midnight. She was thoroughly unprepared to care for such a high-maintenance creature.

She decided to called the little Mogwai "Mowgli", for no real reason other than a slip-up when she tried to say Mogwai. There was an entry in the dstabase that she had yet to read thoroughly. She had decided to so . . . after Mowgli's bath. . . .

"C'mon, little Mowgli," Helen conjoled, "time to get you all clean."

"No bath!" Mowgli squeaked, as if he was voiced by Howie Mendel. Fortunately, Mowgli was a Mogwai with good sense. "No bath!"

Helen apparently wasn't taken aback by the fact that Mowgli could speak, albeit in one syllable words. She couldn't explain why she wanted to hide Mowgli so much, pets were allowed in the threads, but strongly advised against, unless they can defend themselves like Laserbeak.

Mowgli hide deep underneath her bed, out of her reach.

"Oh, come now," she chided him good-naturedly. "Don't be like that!"

"No bath!"

KNOCK, KNOCK!

"Who could that be? Parker's not supposed to be back until Monday." Helen muttered as she went to the door. Helen was surprised at the visitor. "Cloak?"

"Helen," the Realm Walker.

"What, may I ask, do want of me?"

"You know what." Cloak said. "I know you're hiding something."

"That's . . . that's a heavy accusation," Helen said.

"Helen," Cloak said, seriously, "you can't lie to me. No -- you literally can't lie to me. I can detect it, you know that!"

"Alright, I have a pet," Helen said, allowing Cloak in. "Mowgli."

"Helen, that is a Mogwai."

"How do you know? He won't even come out from under the bed."

"I know the scent." the Realm Walker answered vaguely.

[redtailedsaffa]

Three rules?

[Cloak]

You find out soon, Saffa.

New book ideas.

• Book DII: "Lycaon's Last Laugh" -- Lycaon is hyper-evolved into a creature called a Morlun.
• Book DIII: "Phantom Beasts" -- The Phantom Beast are revealed.
• Book DIV: "Clash of the Swarms" -- The conflict of various sentient swarms.

It is sort of an impromptu arc, ending (thus far, anyway) at Book DIII. Don't think I rehashed anything.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIVE:
Reproductive Fission

"You know the scent?" Helen asked. "How?"

"That's not important." Cloak said. "Mogwai are rather high-maintenance to care for."

"Oh, little Mowgli is a cinch," Helen said dismissively.

"Only because you don't know the three rules to caring for Mogwai that must be adhered to," Cloak said. "You must keep them away from bright light -- you're lucky this lighting is dim. Sunlight kills them, like vampire."

Mowgli squeaked a protestation at the comparison.

"I don't mean the sparkly-in-the-sun vampires," Cloak said, and Mowgli squeaked acceptance of this. "Everyone hates those, I guess."

"That's not too hard," Helen said. "I can just keep my thread dark."

"That's only one rule of three, Helen," Cloak said. "The most important one is to never feed him after midnight."

"That's doable," the Star Sapphire replied.

"No matter how he begs? No matter how much he cries?" Cloak said, raising his eyebrows. "You must never break or give in to it."

"Why?"

"Hope that you never find out," the Realm Walker said.

"And the third?" Helen said, starting to carry out her plan of bathing Mowgli.

"Never get them -- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!" Cloak said.

But Cloak's cry came too late. He didn't think to use his hydrokinesis -- although it would have done little good. Mowgli squirmed free, but he was splashed a bit before he could escape. Little Mowgli's squeaky screams tore at Helen's heart as seven balls of fluff and hair spun off of the Mogwai.

"What --"

"Never . . . get them . . . wet . . ." Cloak said, in a wary tone.

"That's what happens?"

"Reproductive fission," Cloak nodded. "Or maybe 'budding' might be a more accurate term."

The balls of hair were growing into seven other Mogwai.

"I did tell you that they were high-maintenance." Cloak said.

[redtailedsaffa]

GOOD LORD!

[Cloak]

. . . Never seen "Gremlins", Saffa?

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIX:
Reporting

While they may have looked cute to the layman from the street, Cloak knew the danger they could propose. They were not identical to their progenitor, as one might expect, indicating that there was, somehow, genetic diversity. They did not retain Mowgli's affable, demurred personality, either.

The one with the tufted mohawk was very prideful and arrogant. He was prone to narcissism, and held no respect for his "father" Mowgli. Helen called him "Mohawk", or simply "Mo" for short.

The one with the brillant emerald eyes was very envious and prone to thievery. He would take anything anyone else had, quickly forgetting the last thing that he took and/or destroyed. Helen, for some reason, called him "Crowley".

The one with small, beady, red eyes and a malicious face was very anger-prone. He seemed to enjoy beating up his "brothers" and other wise bullying them. Helen called him "Riley".

The thick set one with a rather piggish face and porpotions was prone to inactivity and louging around. He, all-in-all, seemed indifferent to everything. At first, Helen called him . . . "Congress", before deciding that "Lazybones" was better.

The one built like Larfleeze was exceedingly greedy, and attempted to hoard everything as his own. He got into fights with Crowley often. Helen called him "Donny", for some reason.

The fattest one of the lot was exceedingly gluttonous in all things, but food was something he particularly coveted. He would be the hardest one to enforce the "no food after midnight" rule. Helen called him "Rollo".

The last one proved to be a rather lecherous chauvinist, which was odd, considering how the Mogwai reproduce. It might have been cute, but Cloak just found it crude. Helen called him "Caligula".

"Helen," Cloak warned in scolding tone, "don't name them. Don't get too attached."

"What? Why?" Helen said.

"You know what we have to do now," Cloak said.

"Cloak!" Helen protested. "You can't be seriously suggesting that we --"

"Report it to the mods? Oh, yeah. I'm seriously suggesting it."

***

"Are you saying that these cute little things are a threat?" SuperNate said skeptically.

"Yes," Cloak said. "They are exceedingly difficult to take care of, and when they are in their easiest stage of life, this larval stage."

"They're bugs?" Richard asked.

"No." Cloak said. "They go through a metamorphosis, if they are fed after midnight."

"Into what?"

"Creatures of chaos," Cloak said, but elaborated no further.

[Cloak]

Hope I did not offend you, Saffa with my last comment. Granted I gave away what this book is going to be loosely based off of. Like the first book was loosely (extremely loose) based off of the "Death of Superman" storyline.

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Daybreak Decision

The Mogwai were in small pet carriers with dark film around the holes to blot out any bright pight, even the rising sunlight as morning eked through the form cautious as a bandit. The other RAFians were beginning to stir within their beds.

Cloak noticed that Mowgli's "sons" seemed to despise him. The Realm Walker only could suspect what this means. The Mogwai were a curious species, which the Elements Master did not know was supernatural or alien-made in their creation, but that mattered little.

"Cloak," Richard said, after Cloak was persuaded to divulge more info, which he had already disclosed, "if what you are saying is true --"

"It is," Cloak said.

"Then there can be little recourse." Richard said heavily. "We cannot risk another fiasco. The Polarisoid was enough as is."

"But . . . but Mowgli isn't evil." Helen said.

"Yes, he's one in ten thousand." Cloak said, standing aloof with his arms folded in such a way to give him a very severe appearance. "And I mean that literally, Helen. Only one out of ten thousand Mogwai has such a temperment. Mowgli is in the minority."

The Realm Walker made eye contact with her.

"His progeny is not," Cloak said, and, as if on cue, Mohawk and the other six rocked their carriers violently. "The way is clear. I . . . I don't like advocating it. I don't like the idea. But they must be dealt with."

"You can't kill them! They didn't ask for --"

"Mowgli can go back to the shop where you and Shadow found him," Cloak said, revealing that he knew of their shopping trip. Of course, he was sidestepping the true question and the honesr accusation.

"And the others?" Helen said, hotly.

Cloak was silent, as he allowed it to stretch until it became palpably unpleasant. He continued to maintain his silence to drive home his point. But Helen was a fiery woman when she was riled -- Cloak could see why Parker held her in such high regard.

"And the others, Cloak?" she persisted. "Are you going to punish them for things that they might do? Kill them for what they might become? How can you be so heartless, so ruthless?"

"You haven't seen the creatures they might become." Cloak said, speaking at last. "But you know how easily they proliferate. How painful it is for the Mogwai in question. When a Mogwai turns into a gremlin, there's no turning back, no way to revert them. Harbor them, if you want, Helen. But know this -- you were warned. Warned of the danger these Mogwai possess."

Cloak turned his back on her, and walked as few steps away, before speaking over his shoulder, "They will go out of their way to eat after midnight, you know. Maybe not Mowgli, but the others would."

The Realm Walker strode off, with mincing steps.

[redtailedsaffa]

Oh no, it's alright, and I haven't seen it, lol.

PDF for the last book!

[Cloak]

Ah. And I had forgotten that there wasn't a PDF of the last book.

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHT:
Experience and Emotion

Helen was near-apocalyptic with indignation. Cloak was calling for the slaughter of these innocent creatures for things that they might do! Might do!! It was like punishing a dog before he bit the mailman! It was insane!

How could these cuties ever turn into the horrid gremlins that Cloak had described? These Mogwais were only a foot, give or take, tall and had human-like hands and toes. They were like Furbies, only cooler and less obnoxious. Their fur was rather luxurious and silky . . .

Although, Helen did not like the way Mohawk and the other six had ganged up on Mowgli. They were apt to beat him up and hit him for no discernible reason that she could find. Maybe it was like sibling rivalry, and they were competing with Mowgli for her attention? Could that be it?

But the seven seemed to have no interest in her at all, and they all seemed to hate Mowgli for no reason. Helen did not know what to honestly make of it, all she knew was that she was tired. All eight Mogwai seemed to have settled down, so she thought it was a safe time to sleep.

She absentmindedly kept them in their pet carriers, which they didn't seem to mind as much, during the day, as daylight had penetrated Helen's room.

***

Cloak should have expected such a reaction. Especially from one unfamiliar with Mogwai and gremlins. Cloak knew that Helen's newest pets would yearn to metamorphize into the grotesque, reptilian gremlins.

Mohawk, Crowley, Donny, Lazybones, Rollo, Caligula, and Riley.

These weren't on the minority Mogwai, like Mowgli. These seven had vice-like tendencies and were actually quite evil, if in a mischievous way as thus far. These weren't good-natured and benign, like their progenitor. They were trouble. They could not be allowed to metamorphize into their gremlin form, into their final life stage.

They cause chaos in that form, and they don't care if they kill someone. Yet, if you're unafraid of them, they seem to have no interest in you. It could be the maliciousness isn't intentional, but like a bunch of drunk frat guys. Still, either way, destruction is still destruction, and RAF's PR isn't exactly the best.

The worst thing that could happen now is if those seven pupate.

[redtailedsaffa]

This is why I don't keep pets.

[Cloak]

It's not all bad. Maybe if you have a chihuahua or a Pomeranian . . . but cats aren't all that bad.

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINE:
Carelessness

It went fine for three days, until Helen had to go out and do some Star Sapphire thing. It was going to be an overnight thing.

She made the grievous mistake of asking Rotiart to pet-sit. Helen was always trying to see the good in people, and was more than willing to be forgiving and offer second chances, but this decision was downright foolish. Rotiart had proven himself to be irresponsible time and time again, and had never shown any improvement, none whatsoever. Rotiart was one of the most careless beings in existence.

Naturally, Rotiart didn't bother listening to Helen when she was describing the three rules -- the three rules that were a must to follow. He did the stereotypical teenager thing of only half-listening while looking at his smartphone. Granted, he was a teenager, but that wasn't an excuse.

Rotiart mostly left the Mogwai to their own devices, feeding them once during the day. It was due to his own inherent sloth and irresponsible forgetfulness that he didn't give them water to drink. Rotiart would have made a bad pet-owner had the Mogwai been dogs or cats. Fortunately, they weren't -- though their fur did resemble that of miniature chihuahuas.

Rotiart, like most RAFians it would seem, did not consult the species database unless necessity demanded it. Even then, Rotiart probably would not even consult it then. He was a coward, a jerk, and a useless lump at the worst of times. Though the fact that he agreed to do this spoke to the fact that there was at least a little compassion in him.

That did not mean, however, that he took the job tasked him very seriously. He treated the Mogwais with indifference, turning a blind eye when Mohawk or one of his brethren hit Mowgli -- whereas Helen was very severe with them when they tried it with her present. They loved this newfound freedom to do as they please, although they had to do it during hours of momentary darkness, as Rotiart did not make any effort to block the intermittent sunshine on a day which couldn't quite decide if it wanted to be sunny or cloudy and rainy. It was as if Kyogre and Groudon were dueling with each other.

Then came midnight, and Rotiart was eating fried chicken. Yes, it was late but he was hungry, and he did not even consider that it would be just plain mean of him to eat in front of the Mogwais, when they can't eat after midnight. Rotiart didn't care.

Then Rollo decided to beg and cry for a drumstick. The other six soon followed suit, only Mowgli declined to do the same. Mowgli clearly knew what would happen if they ate anything at this late hour.

Rotiart did not.

The six soon were ravenously ravaging a chicken breast, two drumsticks, and two wings. Rotiart saw this, and didn't care. But then again, he ignored the rules Helen told him that he must follow.

[redtailedsaffa]

Oh, cats don't really care. Left to their own devices they're fine.

I just don't particularly enjoy keeping up with a pet's every want, and cleaning up after them.

[Cloak]

I do prefer cats myself, when they behave themselves. My last one, Sheba, could be mischievous, but was downright affectionate toward the end (when my mother's neglect killed her).

New chapter.

CHAPTER TEN:
Problematic Pupatation

It is amazing just how people-- not just teenagers, but people of all ages -- can ignore or just simply not notice things happening within clear eyesight proximity. In this electronic age, where many people can lose themselves in their petty little gadgets with their glowing LED screens and whatnot*.

Then you have Rotiart.

He could be the poster child of this prevailing trend. This unrelenting apathy and disinterest in things outside of text on a screen or videos on YouTube.** Rotiart was so engrossed in his smartphone, neglecting the actions of Mogwai. Due to the late hour, he kept nodding off intermittently.

Yet, he didn't notice the cocoons, like dark granite or obsidian, forming at the foot of Helen's bed. It was hard to miss, and Mowgli had decided to try to get his attention. But he failed miserably, but the Mogwai would not be discouraged.

But it was no use. Rotiart was now cranking out Zs in earnest, and he would be woken. The Mogwai let out an exasperated sigh, glancing fearfully at the cocoons that stood as perverse monoliths to him. Rotiart couldn't care less, in any case. Yet, he would always find a way to wriggle, snake-like, from responsibility.

In any case, Rotiart's carelessness had just made things worse.

***

Cloak awoke suddenly from his sleep, dream forgotten. His body felt as if it were tingling with anxiety. He did not know why or the source of it. He looked outside and saw that sunlight had skillfully infiltrated his thread.

It was morning. The Mogwai would not be a problem during the morning. And, yet, something was wrong. He didn't know what could possibly be admiss. Helen had taken diligent care to strictly adhere to the three cardinal rules, which caused Mohawk's gang to really not like her too much.

Yet, judging from what he was sensing, there seemed to be something happening. Something bad. But Helen was so good about the three cardinal rules, why would she drop the ball so suddenly?

And . . . yet . . . there was something undeniably evil nearby. Cloak was sure of it.


* I'm well aware of how hypocritical that is for me to write. I have always wondered if we as a species are too reliant on technology, myself included.

** Again, I, myself, am guilty of this as well.

[redtailedsaffa]

Isn't it "pupation"? Or am I confused?