Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

New chapter.

BOOK LXXVII:
Rust Is Silence*
CHAPTER ONE:
Surprisingly Short Scheme

Cloak was still pondering his actions, and the misgivings of the appearance of such actions. He was always one of very much doubt, and a person of great fear. His core nature was that of a pacifist, and yet his actions were anything but pacifistic. How could he ever reconcile it.

"Who's the present for?" a voice said, bringing Cloak out of his reverie. He noticed the waist-high blue package with carmel-colored ribbons. It was Gaz, who was rightfully suspicious of the unexpected anonymous generousity. "Was there a card?"

"No card," Blaze said, ungainly getting on his hands and knees to check around the box.  "Cloak! Can you see what's inside this --"

Then, with unnecessary fanfare and confetti, the box opened to reveal a rather unimpressive item. It had a pot-like body with rather unimaginative designs upon it. On the sides of it were chariot wheels that were rather like "Beast Machines" Rattrap's wheel legs. It had no arms, but some sort of backpack-like plate that did not appear to serve any understandable purpose. Its head was rather like "Robots" Big Weld'shead, if Big Weld had a hat of Arabic design welded to his head. The thing was far from adorable. What Cloak didn't notice was that it had a big wind-up crank on its back.

"What happens if I turn . . . this?" Abby asked. She turned it, and, as expected, the automaton sprang to life.

"H-H-Hello everyone!" the automaton said, as the RAFians watched it wearily. The voice sounded similar to Jim Cummings's Gregarius voice, and yet a little of Brendan Meyer's Adam Young in it. "I am the humble and gregarious Gregory Ayreus. I thank you for your . . . hospitality."

Its neck telescoped out, and its got all mesmeric.

"You see an optometrist about that?" Genies said, drily droll.

It swivelled its head in a way only a robot can, even one designed in a valet motif. His eyes were still green with yellow swirls. It only served to make the Marks more pronounced on the RAFians, except Esty, Cloak and Yarin. It clearly was trying to mesmerize them, and was oblivious to how ineffective it was.

"You shall bow to the whim of the beautiful genius known as Malice," Greggy said.

The RAFians were unimpressed.

"You shall bow to the --"

"Oh, Cloak, will you shut that thing up already, or do I have to?" Esty said.

Cloak snapped his fingers and the automaton was just a twisted lump of metal and circuitry. Cloak looked suspicious at this . . . since when were Malice's schemes so easily foiled? Since when were that this poorly thought out? Why would she waste her resources in such a way?

***

Malice was onle dimly aware of the automaton's destruction. But it was only a trival loss, as far as she was considered. She knew very well that it wouldn't work, and that its demise was an inevitability, but it had served its purpose.

The RAFians may underestimate her now, underestimate her schemes in their complexity, may let their guard down. This was good, if it came true. She would need a great amount of time to get her true scheme going.

Gregory Ayreus was just supposed to be a distraction, a red herring of sorts.


*The title of this book actually references the last words spoken by Dinobot, "And the rest is silence." I think.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWO:
Specs and Remembrances

Cloak was reminiscing to himself . . . back when Shadow first saw RAF. All those Dweller Earth years ago. . . .

He was escorting his -- at the time -- incredibly shy neice, Shadow into the forum. She was curious, and her mom had allowed it.

Parker yawned, then sang, as the sun was coming up:

"The sun comes up,
The lamps go down.
The day begins in RAF town."

Alic opened her thread's windows, and sang:

"There's tea to brew
Pastries to bake. "

Then she walked over to Jack in a bed, then sang amused:

"And some that refuse to wake."

Shorty sang, gruffly:

"While cafe is stocked
And house-elves are fed."

Dasada sang:

"The midnight RAFians drift home to bed."

Terenia sang, prim and proper:

"School bells chime and call bells ring."

The RAFians sang, in a chorus:

"Rotiart whines!
Musicians sing!
What a day in RAF,
Come and see who's here!
Everyone knows someone.
They come from far and near."

But Cloaky soon realizes Shadow has gone (he hadn't had Earthsight at this point) and begins searching for her as Horse and Faerie get into antics of their own. The other RAFians continued:

"They bring their ease,
Their finest fleece,
To please the keenest eye!
And hope and pray
Someone will say
There's something they might defy!
We thank Richard and his mods aboard,
And kiss the ground for thread and board.
In RAF town!"

VisserZer0 sang:

"The Donators lie fast asleep."

Goom sang, brusquely:

"But some of us got thread floors to sweep!"

VisserZer0 and Goom sang:

"One day's like the day before."

Broken shrugged as he sang:

"Can't complain."

Duff sang, chinking the his glass:

"If there's no flame war!"

The RAFians sang:

"What a day in RAF town!
Everythings' for sale
cabbages and onions --"

Azure gasped, "Look up!"

Myitt sang, pointing:

"Who's that?
That creature up in the tree?"

Rotiart sang:

"It's not a tree!
It's moving . . . see?!"

Touquie sang:

"Good grief!
What can it be?"

Morfowt sang:

"Look there!
I swear --
She's flying through the air!"

Gaz exclaimed:

"She must be wild!"

SuperNate proclaimed:

"She's just a child!"

Cloaky, having determined his neice's location by the RAFians' attention, attempted to coax his neice, "Care to join me?  Here on the ground?  This instant?"

Shadow, still in the tree, sang:

"My heart is pounding like a drum.
I can't believe my eyes!
In RAF, RAFians seem to come
In every shape and size!
So many paths.
I wonder how they find their way?
So many posts,
I wonder what they really say!"

Shadow climbed to the top of the tree. She gazed out across the forum, and then sang:

"RAF is everything I've heard and more!
RAF is nothing like I've seen before!
Music and talking cats and threads that shine,
With flags flying higher than a pine!"

Jax sang:

"She seems so sweet.
She means us well."

V2113 sang, randomly:

"Size 20 feet!"

Kelly sang, addressing V2113:

"How can you tell?"

Rotiart sang:

"We'll rue this day,
You wait and see!"

Esty sang:

"What is to be or not to be."

Shadow, leaped from the tree, and dashed through the forum, singing, while her uncle attempted to keep up:

"How do they build their houses so dim and all?
Can this be all one tribe?
The things they sell, the things I smell,
I never could describe!
These cakes taste just like berries picked this very day!
The sound a lake makes still takes my breath away!
RAF's as busy as a hive of bees.
Oh, Mom would just love these trees!
Crowded and loud but so exciting too!
With colors I never even knew!"

The RAFians sang:

"What a day in RAF!
Nothing strange at all!"

Jack, having finally roused and dressed as Alic leads him away, sings:

"'Cept Cloak, who's maybe ten feet tall!"

The RAFians sang:

"This day's become a day no one is likely to forget.
A day we'll all remember as the day two worlds have met!"

Shadow sang:

"RAF is everything I've heard and more!
RAF Town is nothing like I've seen before!"

Pez whispered in song:

"The strength of ten,
That's what I heard."

Jess sang, addressing her admiration for Shadow bravery despite being so young.

"A brave young thing to venture here."

Shadow continued:

"Music and talking cats and roofs that shine!"

Ellimist sang:

"It will be an adventure!"

Shadow continued:

"And flags flying higher --"

Duff sang, addressing AniJen:

"Perhaps some brew to quench your thirst?"

Shadow continued:

"-- than a pine!"

The RAFians, except Cloak, sang:

"What a day in RAF history was made!
Take away the mystery, then you're not afraid.
We've seen a Walker girl!"

Shadow added:

"I've seen a world!"

The RAFians, except Cloak, sang:

"We never dreamed we'd see."

Shadow echoed:

"I never dreamed I'd see!"

Shadow and the RAFians sang together:

"What an extra special day.
Unique in truly every way.
How wonderful this RAF day
Turned out to be!"

Cloak smiled every time at this memory. It was a cherished one.

***

Meanwhile, a good and prudent distance away, a man was cobbling together a device. He used to be one of General Cannon's underlings, who loved being in his employ. This man had enhineered a device to create instantaneous iron oxidation, and had only gone so far as create specs for such a device.

But General Cannon quickly realized that the weapon could be used against the country (and more specifically him himself), so the good general cancelled the plans. And when this technician decided to complain, Cannon just cruelly criticized the project and the device itself.

This did not sit well with the man. It did not sit well with Dr. Rusty Oliver. . . .

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER THREE:
Vengeance and Vindication

Rusty was holed up in his "workshop", which was a deteriorating studio apartment that housed the gremlins for a brief time. It was pretty unfit for human habitation, but Rusty didn't care really.

He was consumed with an insatiable thirst of vengeance and a lust of vindication. His device was worthy of notoriety, worthy of accolades. General Cannon and all the others . . . they were fools! The lot of them! They didn't bother to understand his genius. They were jealous! Jealous that they could never invent something so world-changing, could never engineer something so brillant!

But why just stop at iron oxidation? He wasn't thinking big enough. He was making a corrosion ray that could corrode each and every metal! He would show that puritanical dullard how wrong he was to ever doubt the GENIUS of Russel Baxter Oliver!!

He would do what Cannon could not, the egotistical nimrod. He would quell all of the country's enemies. He would remove the greatest threats. All because everyone is so dependant on metal, those plebeian vagrants on this soil . . . (he did not realize or acknowledge the sheer hypocrisy of this thought alone, as the device that he was constructing has some very important metal components) . . . this planet did not belong to them. They had no right to be here. They had no right to pollute this planet with their impurity and uncouth ways.

Cannon may have been many things -- a male chauvinist, a proponent of the military industrial complex at the cost of the living wage of civilian livelihoods, proponent of censorship and other reprehensible political ideologies -- but wven he had a line that he wouldn't cross. Granted, it was difficult to tell were that line was.

Rusty had no such lines, no such compunctions for restraint, and had the foresight if a spoiled four-year-old. He was so consumed with the, in his view, injustices of the past that he couldn't imagine a world outside vengeance and vindication. He could not imagine the future beyond that.

Hatred is a fire that hollows one out, and twists the hollowed remains into perverse parodies of their former selves. Hatred is not something someone should cling to, but it is often hard to let go of.

Cloak knows this firsthand, and still struggles with it. Rusty was consumed by it. He thirsted for it more then he craved water, food, sleep, shelter, or love. He thought of nothing else. He just lived to create the corroder, his term for his device, and only existed for revenge.

This could only end in tears.

[redtailedsaffa]

Yay, new book chapters!

PDF for the last one.

[Cloak]

Thanks.

And I'll admit that this book may be schticky in some parts, but considering that I loosely based it off an episode of the 80's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles . . .

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR:
Karma -- It's Not Just A Popularity Contest!*

Oliver had decided to enact his revenge, seemingly unaware that Cannon was dead. But he did realize that if he had his face on display that the law enforcement would get involved (although they would just defer it to the RAFians, as they were essentially government-approved and government-sponsored superheroes) and he didn't need to mire himself with the meaningless litigation of the puny-minded masses.

He crafted what could be seen as a decent amateur cosplay costume of the Shredder, although with purple gloves and sleeves and lacking the iconic cape. He wore a metal helmet with three backward-raking prongs with a removable met face plate. He also wore metal shoulder guards, shin guards, and grieves that each carried three hooked blades. He had nondescript black boots, black tights, an unnecessarily tight dark gray shirt, and metal neck guards. For being so disparaging of metal items earlier, he sure used a lot of it in his "supervillain" costume. All in all, the whole outfit looked comical rather than threatening.

He came to the city, armed with his oxidizer ray. He had intended for his entrance to be intimidating and the frowd of bystanders to be paralyzed with abject terror. He had been expecting screams and yells of fear. He had intended to look mighty and impressive.

The reaction of the populace was not so dramatic. Most just ignored the dilly costumed man, assuming that he was just on his way to some comic con or just a street performer. Some spoke a fleeting compliant, which Rusty just took as patronizing him. A few told him to get a real job, and tried to run him off the road (surprise surprise, most of them were the spoiled brats of the 1%). He was thoroughly disgruntled by this.

He happened upon an obviously-affluent young man about the age of sixteen wearing rather expensive clothing that was impeccably clean and unwrinkled. He was leaning on his sleek little sportscar.

"Yeah, a Porsche 918 Spyder," he was saying to his hangers-on, to people who were only friendly to him because he had money. He was apparently unaware of this little factoid. "After I totaled the last one, Mumsy and Dadums decided to get me a car that was a little cheaper and --"

He noticed Rusty, standing there, looking like a Comic Con runaway, and instead of acting his age, instead of acting with maturity, he wrinkled his nose in obvious distain. He had never met Rusty, who was at least twice this boy's age, but he assumed he knew everything already about Rusty with nothing but a singular glance.

"And what do you want, fashion reject?" he sniffed. He, like most of the 1% seemed blessfully unaware that it was people of Rusty's class that enabled them to live the comforts they had become accustomed to. Without the other 99%, they would be nothing, unable to survive on their own. "And keep your distance, you filthy commoner."

They were on a public street. But this boy thought he owned basically anything and was above the law. He had no integrity of his own, and Rusty didn't like this attitude. He aimed his corroder and every bit of metal on this flippant, arrogant boy's Porsche became corroded with a rust-like corrosion.

"WHAT DID YOU DO, YOU POOR LACKWIT?!" the brat raged. "DON'T YOU TURN YOUR BACK ON YOUR SUPERIOR, YOU -- OW!!"

This rich boy had seized Rusty's shoulder roughly, cutting his fingers accidentally on the blades. He decided that that was also Rusty's fault. He did not relinquish his grip


"You will turn around and obey me!" the little brat said, "You do as you are told, peasant!"

Rusty did turn around, and gave this arrogant little prep school bulky a flatter nose. Rusty had no qualms or regret doing this, and the boy was flat on his butt, nursing his nose, as Rusty stalked off, corroding every last bit of metal he came across.


*Meant to be tongue-in-cheek.

[redtailedsaffa]

I share your distaste for the 1%.

[Cloak]

And, yet, without us of the 99%, would be completely unable to take care of themselves, unable to survive without the amenities to which they've become accustomed. I do believe they need us more than we need them.

Anyway, if anyone's curious, here's how the series is spread out across my notebooks:

• Sheets of loose paper: Book I to Book VIII
• First notebook: Book IX to Book LXXIX (Chapters 1 to 3)
• Second notebook: Book LXXIX (Chapters 4 to 20) to Book CLXXXV (Chapters 1 to16)
• Third notebook: Book CLXXXV (Chapters 17 to 20) to Book CCLXIII (Chapters 1 to 10)
• Fourth notebook: Book CCLXIII (Chapters 11 to 20) to Book CCCLIII (Chapters 1 to 9)
• Fifth notebook: Book CCCLIII (Chapters 10 to (?)) to (?)

In the first eight books were back when I thought that their would be ten books, max. Then I . . . I got ambitious.

[redtailedsaffa]

And I'm glad you did.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIVE:
When There's Trouble, Who You Gonna Call?

But the rampage was not to last.

Realistically, one could not simply get away with corroding the city's metal with rust, or rust-like derivatives, without attracting some notice. And someone did notice. And someone contacted the authorities. And those authorities contacted --

There in silhouette, stood six figures, the sunlight flowing from behind them, and made them look either ominous or impressive, depending on you vantage point and point of view. The silhouettes were not unifrom, and each was different from the last.

Upon their palms was a soft blue light, only noticeable in the shadow of the silhouette. The six walked, almost sedately professional, toward Rusty, who realized a moment too late that he he didn't think of a pseudonym or an alias for this persona. "Shredder" was already pretty copyrighted, though why he should care about that when he ripped off most of the costume from the character was anyone's guess.

As the six came into better relief, they were revealed to be Cloak, Oceanspray, Sakki, Parker, Aquilai, and Nina. Rusty had basically been living under a rock for the past few years, and, as such, he did not know what the RAFians were. He just assumed that they were special forces, since all -- except Nina and possibly Cloak.-- definitely looked human. He assumed that those were costumes.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his face plate actually designed to distort his voice.

"That," Cloak said, cold and without emotion, "is what we should be asking."

"Do you realize just how many city ordinances and federal laws you just broke?" Parker asked.

"You don't know, either," Sakki muttered.

"Not in front of the perp!" Parker snarled quietly.

"Who are you?" Rusty said, wondering if they really held any authority and were not just play-acting.

"We are the ones who got called to stop your tantrum -- er, I mean, rampage." Nina said, calmly.

"What right have you tell me what to do?" Rusty challenged.

"And who's 'me'?" Aquilai asked, which caught Rusty off-guard.

"Ah, um, erm, Rust. Y-yeah, yeah, Rust All-Over."

"You can't be serious." Parker said. "Rusty Oliver? Cannon's minion?"

[redtailedsaffa]

Wouldn't Oceanspray and Sakki be in danger of the corroder though?

[Cloak]

Very astute, Saffa. +1.

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIX:
Casual Casualties

Rusty nonchalantly raised the corroder so that it was level with his arm when held horizontally. It looked, at first, like a generic blaster rifle, although evidently much lighter than normal as Rusty could heft it up, one-handed, without issue. The barrel wasn't circular but triangular in shape, but there was no real reason, functionally-speaking, other than general aesthetic. It looked rather clunky-looking, as well.

Cloak realized a split second beforehand that this was the wrong dispatching for about a third of their team. A serious miscalculation on their part. But it came far too late to react.

There was no discernible sound, but their felt that there should be one. It seemed to be like a pressure wave but it had a visible beam -- no, it was more of an visible energy pulse, several of them -- that was russet red in color.

It did not affect Cloak, as he wore no metal on his person. It corroded Nina's belt buckle, but that was all of her that held any scrap of metal she had in her possession. Aquilai's sonic screwdriver faired just as well (his TARDIS pendant, which contained his actual TARDIS, managed to escaped the corroder's pulse). Parker's armor froze fast, trapping Parker within as its gooey marshmallow center.

Oceanspray and Sakki's reactions were, as you would expect, far more severe. It was almost as if they had indirectly viewed the gaze of a basilisk. As if they were Petrified. They looked like victims of Medusa, in addition, to indirect victims of a basilisk.

"What the --"

"Gateburst!" Cloak cursed, furious with himself. "We should have known about this possible eventuality! I should have known!"

"What do we do now?" Nina asked, as Parker managed to activate the armor to switch armors, which ended the effects of the corroder. He looked shaken by the experience, which was understandable. Imagine being able to move one minute, and then suddenly entombed in a makeshift coffin the next. Terrifying, to say the least, unless you're a fool or possess a death wish.

"Cloak?" Nina prodded, as Aquilai looked round. "What do we do?"

"Die!" Rusty said, laughing at his own unfunny joke.

"Aquilai, Parker, and you take Oceanspray and Sakki back to the forum," Cloak said, speaking over his shoulder. "Make haste. Maybe they know a way to save them, or at least stablizing them. Give them a mandrake draught or something."

"And you?"

"I got this," Cloak said, locking his eyes on Rusy. Eyes trained on him like a tiger in long grass on a grazing deer.

"Alone?"

"I can handle him."

"Cloak, are you sure?" Parker asked, with a rather strained quality to his voice.

"Hurry." Cloak intoned, glancing at the two casualities . . . no. No, he mustn't think of them that way. . . . But it was hard seeing them . . . like that. . . .

[redtailedsaffa]

Good heavens.

[Cloak]

I probably should apologize in advance if I don't get around to posting the new chapter. Just got a new Diancie (a Pokemon) today, and I was playing with it in X.

Found time.

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Carbonite Copy

"Good heavens!" Saffa said, as she saw the state of Oceanspray and Sakki. Shadow, who had been looking for her uncle, trotted over. "Are they --"

Sbadow placed a hand on both of them, and could still detect the sparks of life within the rusted metal. They were feeble and fragile, though.

"They're alive," Shadow informed, adding, "Barely."

It was rather like the two were frozen in carbonite, and fortunate that this was the severity of the corroder. It could have been worse. It could have been fatal.

"Well, we must be grateful for small favors, then," Parker said, hefting the two back into standing position, looking like statues of themselves made from corrosion. It was no simple job, as the two were rather weighty. "Any idea what can revert them?"

"Unless you have a Fossilizer, I doubt it," Shadow mentioned. "I don't know exactly what a Fossilizer is, but I remember Uncle talking about them once."

"Greeeeeaaat," Faerie said, "and where are these Fossilizer things?"

"Reptilon," the young Realm Walker replied at once, "I -- I think."

"Wonderful," the faerie sighed.

"Wait, wouldn't a Fossilizer just turn things to stone? Presumably with a reverse setting." Saffa asked. And, unbeknownst to most, if not all, asssmbled there, it was true. "How would that apply to this situation?"

"Like I said, I don't know much about them." Shadow said.

"Moving on to the crisis at hand," Aquilai said, clearing his throat audibly. "We need to construct a way, or a device, to counteract that corrosion blaster that Rusty Oliver had."

Yarin hesitated before speaking up, "I may have something that could help."

"A microwave?" Shadow asked.

"It was not a microwave! It was a FOOD YIELD INCREASER." Yarin said, temper flaring. "And no, it has nothing to do with that! There are times when corrosion appears on my ship, through ordinary wear-and-tear and whatnot. So I have been devising a way to eliminate it. I have a prototype."

"Let me guess," Saffa teased, "flashlight?"

All six of Yarin's eyes narrowed at Saffa.

[redtailedsaffa]

[Cloak]

 
New chapter.
 

CHAPTER EIGHT:
It Gets Nasty

"Die!" Rusty said, quite forgetting himself. He fired an energy pulse from the corroder at Cloak. It hit the Realm Walker, who did not flinch or react at all, again. Rusty had overlooked that the corroder only worked on metal, and Cloak was not made of metal. "Uh, die . . . please?"
 
Cloak was so disgusted at the pathetic man before him, he found himself unable to speak. Unable to tell this puny little man what he truly thought about him. He was only a "big man" when he had his weapon to back him up. When that weapon proved to be worthless against his foe, he quickly devolved back into a child. No, worse: a coward. Cloak curled his lip into a loose, but disapproving, snarl.
 
"Please?" Rusty said, not troubling to hide or obscure his cowardly meekness.
 
"You sicken me," Cloak said. "You could have potentially killed two of my friends, but you don't care. You have no concern for anyone's safety, but your own. You have no concern for anyone's fate, but your own."
 
"Y-You will obey me," he said, though with a tremble, a quiver, to his voice. This just disgusted Cloak all the more. It is one reason why he despised firearms and similar items. The weapons that could be wielded by literally anyone, even someone's that never wielded it before, and be used to kill someone. Then again, Cloak was a very jaded person at times. "I a-am all-powerful."
 
"And, apparently, you are also delusional," Cloak said coldly. "You know nothing of true power. You know nothing of the burden to hold it back, to pull your punches for fear of losing control. You know nothing. You are not all-powerful. You are only moderately a threat, and barely at that. And it's all because of that weapon of yours, for without it, you would be NOTHING."
 
If Cloak's lecture did anything, it was just make Rusty's drive and his determination stronger, make his resolve more inflexible. This was not Cloak's intent, but it all together didn't surprise him all that much.
 
"I'll show you," he snarled. It was so quiet that it was doubtful human ears couldn't pick it up. But Cloak was not a human, and wasn't quick enough on the uptake to realize just what Rusty meant by this.
 
He aimed the corroder, and Cloak misread his aim, thinking that he was taking another pot shot at the Elements Master. But Rusty's true aim was a mass of scaffolding that pedestrians were gathered by, watching the exchange between the two.
 
Why is that humans liked to gather around in spectator circles, like that? Was it some sort of long-forgotten instict or something? Did humans have some sort of innate curiosity about such thjngs? It didn't really make much sense, when you thought about it.
 
Rusty fired the corroder and it hit the scaffolding, which began to immediately buckle under its own weight. Cloak was greatly alarmed, especially because there were children within crushing range!
 
"Who's weak now?" Rusty said, cackling like he proved his point. He proved a point alright, just not the one he thought. "Ha HA! Who's weak now, buddy-boy?!"

Cloak wasn't really paying attention to Rusty's crowing. He twirled in an airbending maneuver and blasted the scaffolding away from the innocent bystanders, into an empty construction site that was fortunately nearby.

"What's the MATTER with you?!" a woman shrieked.

She wasn't addressing Cloak.

"Bow before me! The might Rust All-Over!"

"First," Cloak said, "disregard for life ISN'T strength -- I don't know how that line of thinking had ever come into being. Second, Rust All-Over? That's a stupid nom de plume, completely unimaginative."

"You're weak!"

"Child," Cloak said.

"You're weak!!"

Cloak decided not to reply.