Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

And it aint gonna be the only dark book, GH. Though the next one may be on the goofy side. I don't know, I've only outlined it, and I don't always stick to the outline.

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Walkers Are Talkers

"We must notify his next of kin," Richard said at once, "alert a mortuary and a mortician and the like. The authorities as well."

"You know, that they will blame us for this, right?" Estelore said, with a sigh.

"Then that would be unfair," Shadow said, quietly.

"The media is hardly ever fair," Cloak said, jaded.

"Oh, the lovely contradictions," a bored voice said. "Cloak, his brat protege, and his minions conversing as if this were some big conspiracy! The irony is delicious."

"This was once of your schemes, wasn't it, Malice?" Cloak growled. He turned around and saw Malice, leaning on a woebegone sycamore tree on a slight hill that loomed over the four, her limp, flaccid, pale black cloak blustering a bit in the wind. "Wasn't it?"

"What does it matter if was or wasn't?" Malice said, eyes gleaming with her namesake. "In the end, does it really matter?"

"Gateburst you, Malice!!"

"Uncle. Language."

"Language be Veiled!" Cloak said, unintentionally snapping at her. "Malice, you have no right!"

"But, don't I?" she said, with infuriating condescending tones. "I can do what I like, you know."

"No, you can't! These are living, thinking, feeling beings! And you treat them as if they are dolls for you manipulate, as if their lives haven't any meaning whatsoever. As if they're expendable as long as you have your Veiled entertainment."

"Blah, blah, blah," Malice said, bored.

"Have you no compassion? Have you no integrity? Have you no common decency?"

She waved her free hand in a dismissive motion. "I prefer to live my life unfettered by such meaningless concepts."

"Meaningless?!" Cloak roared. "How can someone be so selfish, so self-centered, so crass?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Malice said, clearly not listening.

"Do you forget to whom you speak, you old crone?" Cloak said, uncharacteristicall y savage. "I am the grandson of Sage, and an Elements Master."

"What's your poi-- oh." Malice said, with donning realization that she was standing on earth and leaning on a tree, which was of the Wood element. She Walked away before another word was said.

Cloak still felt livid.

[redtailedsaffa]

This suddenly turned into a Delhi road rage.

[Cloak]

Right. Not in the best moods right now, which I can't go into. Not online anyway.

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Loose End and Marie's Irritation

The RAFians had to bundle up Tobey's body tight, and sanitize the area where he died, because it was believed that he had siphoned out AIDS and similiar diseases from his victims. It could have been seen a virtuous, but it was known he didn't do it because of some sense of altruism. He was just merely in the thrall of his addiction.

The suit seemed to contain any bodily fluid that may have been expelled upon death, without any outward sign that he had soiled himself in anyway.

It was true that shameless propaganda shows (which stylized themselves as "news"), like anything in Fox News, decided that the RAFians deserved the blame, ignoring any facts to the contrary, per the norm for that type of broadcasting. They would rant about it for hours,to their too-slowly dwindling audiences.

Legitimate news sites, as well as Tobey's closest living relative, his estranged brother, were far more lenient and amicably fair with the RAFians. The family -- of lack thereof, really -- just wanted a quiet funeral, despite none of them really liking Tobey all that much. It was just one of the edicts of their belief system.

***

"Dog goes woof,
Cat goes meow,
Bird goes tweet,
And mouse goes squeak.
Cow goes moo,
Frog goes croak,
And the elephant goes toot.
Space ducks say 'quack! Quack!'
And fish go blub.
And Horse goes 'ow ow ow'!
But there's no sound,
That anyone knows,
WHAT DOES THE FOX S-- ack!"

"Oh, you want to know what we say, Rotiart?!" Marie said, tackling him down, teeth very close to his jugular. Marie, a fox by species, was really getting tired of being asked what do foxes say. "We say 'STOP THE EFFING 'ELL ASKING US THAT'!!!"

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

Book XCII:
CALENDAR CREEP
CHAPTER ONE:
Keep Me Guessin'

After heaviness of Tobey Agrowch's death, Cloak found himself thinking about happier times. He remembered training Shadow in the elements, which was not always the easiest or most pleasant times.

"You're headin' for disaster,
But this is your one best chance.
Though, little miss, here's some Elemental class.
I'll show you how to show the Banned
Who wears the pants.
This technique is smoother than ginseng --
Now, don't give me attitude!"

Shadow attempts the technique, a basic water elemental technique, but she fails spectacularly. Then again, she was, at this time, seven and a complete amateur at the elements.

When she failed, she gave her uncle a mulish look. One that he recognized from his own face when Sage was teaching him himself.

"I require a little convincing,
Then we'll chow down on some food."

Shadow improvises, trying to manipulate several elements at once, which she was not yet ready for, to her cost and humiliation.

"You're a goofball mademoiselle.
And that move doesn't gel.
But if I don't ask, you won't tell.
Keepin' me guessin'.
Keepin' me guessin'!
You think you don't need me,
But, Shadow, you'll be in a jam.
I didn't train you to mislead.
Don't walk that walk
Until you're a Master, like I am.
I'm ready to Elements coach you
To master these moves we do.
Take it from one that's wise,
Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes.
I see through your little white lies,
Still keepin' me guessin'!
Honey, listen to old Uncle, too,
Like a roach, they would smoosh you!
Shut your mouth, and master this 'fu.
Keepin' me guessin'.
This isn't the time to brag!
This technique isn't in the bag!
Don't turn this into a drag,
But still keepin' me guessin'!
See? Never say surrender!
You can make yourself a contender!
Don't cause another fenderbender!!
Keepin' me guessin'!
When the truth gets too depressin'
Teach yourself a lesson!
Read my lips and hear my expression!
Keep 'em guessin'!
Keep 'em guessin'!"

Cloak, in retrospect, supposed that he was a hard taskmaster and a strict teacher, but Shadow had succeeded in mastering all of the Six Elements before her eleventh birthday, a task no other Elements Master has been known to achieve. Even Cloak was about twenty before he had completely mastered the elements.

[redtailedsaffa]

Going by the description of this book, it's going to be quite amusing.

PDF of the last book:

[Cloak]

Might not turn out the way you expect -- heck, it might not turn out to be the way I expect!

And the current book that I just finished outlining, Book DCLIV, will be a dark one, like Book XCI. And you guys might not like the --

*WHACK*

Ow! Okay, Saffa, no spoilers! Geez!

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER TWO:
A Bad Day

It was a fairly regular, mundane day at the Day-to-Day calendar manufacturing plant. The place would certainly not win any awards for boosting the already dismal morale of the employees. They tended to be looked down upon by the upper echelons of society -- you know, the pricks that never so much as seen a hard day's labor. And, quite unfortunately, it was these types that were running the place.

The average joe might not think that such a job was stressless, but few would coherently fathom what kind and sheer amount of stress there was at a job such as this. The higher-ups often ignored the complaints and needs of their employees (as long as this didn't venture into illegal territory, then they took notice and often did wrong or ridiculously extreme to do to deal with it).

These rich brats did not care if their employees -- the "peasants", as they liked to think of them -- did not thrive or were happy with their employment. They were as harsh as they were legally allowed. Even then, they were outright abusive when "off-the-record". Their policies were more often than not made to cover their and screw over their employees, using loopholes and other such legal maneuvers.

The smarter, less naive workers knew this, but were unable to do anything about it. There was very little that they could do in this job market, in this economy. They had no choice but put up with this flagrant corruption, lest they not be able to make due with the few creature comforts they managed.

Is really any wonder that one of them would snap? Someone who's sanity wasn't all that stable to begin with.

Valen O. Day wasn't particularly the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to social interactions, but he was a moderately decent worker. He took the executives' abuse about as well as the others did, and all with a calm, introverted demeanor. He was also quite impatient. But he was a whiz with dates and all things pertaining to the calendar -- holidays, seasons, how the days of the week got their names, and other such trival facts.

While he was required to wear a uniform at work, outside of work he favored a certain overblown flashiness in attire and excessive exuberance in speech has made him the butt of many a joke among both the executives and his own coworkers.

Eventually, he got a little too overworked, and he snapped when someone who he ticked off called him "you calendar creep". He did not attack her but seemed to lose all semblence of sanity.

Deciding to get revenge on the world -- despite never really considering precisely what he was getting revenge for -- he donned a rather ridiculous calendar-themed costume with a "calendar cloak" which Cloak would abhor, calendar-themed top hat, monocle, and overlarge pencil as a cane.

And he believed people would take him seriously in that getup.

[redtailedsaffa]

Those puns though. And there can only be more coming.

[Cloak]

"Valen O. Day" actually came from "villain of the day".

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER THREE:
Real Ugly Face of Politics

It was a real mundane day, as Cloak, Parker, and Richard were standing outside the First National Bank of the city. Parker had his armor within the watch device, Richard appeared human enough without any need for any disguise, and Cloak wore the ID mask that projected a hologram of his usual holographic human appearance. The three were there because they suspected that something might happen here, but Cloak wasn't sure if it would be within their jurisdiction.

"We better not be wasting our time here," Cloak growled.

"Easy, Cloak." Richard said.

Cloak realized that he was letting his boredom getting him. Cloak didn't enjoy being bored. It tended to make him testy.

"Are we sure that tip was legit?" Parker asked.

"It could have come from Malice," Cloak postulated, "or a Knight, or some villian that we aren't yet privy to, who wants to make a name for themselves."

"Why would getting their butts kicked by us be making a name for themselves?"

"They, quite possibly, could not think that. They could be harboring a delusion that they could defeat us quite handily." Cloak said. "They could be assuming that they had more power than they do. Like that bloodbender a few of your months ago."

Before any more conversation could be had, a flashy figure appeared nearby. In a quilted calendar-themed costume with a similarly themed cloak and top hat and a pencil-shaped cane. He walked flamboyantly up to the bank, boldly and brazenly.

The RAFians were dumbfounded, but did nothing. Dressing up like a ludicrous lunatic wasn't illegal.

But he wasn't alone.

Behind him were some twisted, malformed mockery of the forty or fifty presidents of the country. The RAFians quickly lost their stunned states.

"The First National Bank!" this weirdo declared. "I, the Calendar Creep, will now rob you!"

"Seriously?" Parker said, summoning his armor via the nanotech watch as Cloak removes his ID mask.

"Yes!" Calendar Creep announced grandly. "I see my guest have arrived to bear witness to my first heist!"

"Wait --" Richard said, unsure about the seriousness of this.

"You were the one that tipped us off about a robbery here? You?" Cloak said, still trying to come to terms with the sheer incomprehensible nature of this whole thing.

"Yes! To witness my ascension to the most feared supervillain --"

"Are you bloody serious?" Parker said. "You do know who we are, right? You do the likes of the people we've fought?"

"Yes! Which is why my victory over you will catapault me to fame and --"

"You seriously cannot be this stupid," Parker said, bluntly.

"Especially since your atrocious hologram minions aren't real, and cannot help you at all," Cloak said, having Earthsighted the truth.

That seemed to take some swagger out of his step.

"What?"

Cloak saw what this meant, "You thought to take us on, and you didn't familiarize yourself with our most basic abilities?"

"You're a joke," Parker said, withdrawing his armor back into his nanotech watch. "And not worth our time."

"Sir," Richard said, more respectful than Calendar Creep really deserved, "you have yet to commit any crime. You can walk away from this, and you won't be arrested or punished. Do not fight us, you will not like the outcome. Walk away, sir. Just walk away."

The Calendar Creep's ostentacious personality seemed to evaporate into one of a striken shell of a man. He decided to listen to Richard as it would seem, but in reality, he decided that he needed more resources to take them on.

He wasn't done with his crazy ambitions.

[redtailedsaffa]

Oh, wow.

[Cloak]

Well, he is based off of Calendar Man, who is considered to be a third-rate supervillain.

Anyway, new book ideas!

• Book DCCLXVI: "Geometric Demons" -- The RAFians must deal with several dream demons, who each specialize in a different type of dream. They seek the location of "the Books".
• Book DCCLXVII: "[censored] Breaks Loose!" -- An old enemy of the RAFians gathers strength, eating some of his minions, but three escape.

Remember, the titles are subject to change.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR:
Getting Schooled

Gaz, Terenia, and GH were nearby the school, dealing with some school-related business that had nothing to do with RAF. Initially. Then they were having some qualms about a certain member of the faculty who had the nerve to demand that anti-RAF propaganda be taught in the school's social studies classes -- and she was a math teacher!

"She cannot be serious about this," GH said, his guitar slung ever so carefully careless over his back. "What does anti-RAF propaganda have to do with calculus?"

"She does not want to teach it during math," Terenia said, wearing a very ugly look on her face, "she's demanding that the social studies teachers teach it in their classes."

"She can't do that, can she? Make demands of other departments, as if she were their boss?" GH said.

"No, she can't," Terenia said, "but that doesn't mean she isn't going to try. Didn't stop Laura Mallory from trying to ban Harry Potter without reading them."

"Wait, what does that last part --" GH began, but then something happened that rendered him dumbstruck.

A man dressed as a twelve-year-old came into view. His pants, shirt, quilted jacket, bookbag, belt, and even his shoes were all calendar-patterned.

"Is this some new fashion trend?" Gaz asked, with a snort of derision.

"Why are you asking me?" Terenia asked. The she added, after a brief pause, "And no, it's not."

"BACK TO SCHOOOOOOOL TIME!!" he said, unnecessarily loud and boisterous.

"It's winter," GH pointed out quietly. The Calendar Creep didn't seem to hear him.

"Come along now," Calendar Creep announced, with a flamboyance that indicated he didn't remember his last encounter with RAFians. Or simply chose to ignore it. He was gesturing towards the trollish dwarves he had dressed as grade-schoolers (and unconvincingly at that). "Time to go to school!"

"Okay -- I'm confused," GH said earnestly. "What's the point of this?"

"We're as confused as you are, GH," Terenia said. "Do they actually think that they will get inside the premises unnoticed?"

"There has to be more to this," Gaz said.

"I knew it!!" came a shriek.

Gaz and Terenia found themselves massaging their foreheads. They knew the owner of that shriek, and knew that it wasn't a source of danger but one of irritation. They turned to face the imminently more dangerous threat than the Calendar Creep.

"Who's that?" GH asked, seeing the short, stout woman with iron gray curls gathered up into a tight bun. She wore a thick but prudent skirt, a matching jacket, and white blouse. Her glasses gave the appearance of her having smaller eyes than she truly possessed. Her black, ludicrous-looking high heels clicked irritably as she strode angrily towards them.

"Euphoria Carson," Terenia said, with a disparaging tone, full of disgust.

"You mean Dysphoria Carson," Gaz corrected.

"M-M-Ms. Carson? She's still alive?" Calendar Creep said, fearfully. Apparently, Ms. Carson, the old spinster, used to be his old math teacher and he was as afraid of her then as he was now. He ran away, the dwarf trolls vanishing inexplicably.

"I knew you RAFians were trouble!" Euphoria Carson scolded, quite overstepping her bounds. She held no authority over them, though she apparently thought that she did. "You need to leave. You all need to leave. Now."

"You have no right to tell us to leave, Dysphoria," Gaz said.

"You know my name!" she said, tone condescending.

"Like it matters," Terenia said. "You need to get your head out of your backside, Carson. You have no authority to send us away. You are a math teacher, not the principal or the vice principal. You also have no right to dictate what the social studies teachers teach. You aren't on the school board, you are not the superintendent. You do not have the right to anything you've been doing. You're severely overstepping your bounds."

"I have every right to condemn everything that you and your depraved, sinful gang stand for!" she shot back sanctimoniously. "I will wake this people up to your profane unnaturalness."

The bickering did not stop there.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIVE:
Bricks and Retreats

Demos, Shanker, and Wild approached the cemetery. They were going to investigate a possibility that Garrotik's progeny might be regenerating in their plate forms. Naturally, this was something that they would prefer to not happen, so these three were dispatched to see if there was any validity to this rumor.

"It was just a rumor," Shanker said, dismissively. "You shouldn't put too much stock in rumors."

"Rumors tend to have some basis in fact," Wild said. "Not entirely, but a little."

"Sometimes a lot," Demos said, "and yet rumors can sometimes prove to be entirely true."

"And sometimes they can turn out to be nothing more than complete horsesh-- hear that?" Shanker said, referring to a short skittering sound. But after that, nothing but a gusty wind. "I guess it was nothing."

"You know, if there wasn't so much snow and whatnot, it'd feel like we walked into a 'Thriller' video," Wild observed.

"You could say that about every cemetery," Shanker said. He sniffed. "We're not alone. I smell blood. Fresh. 'Heart still beating' fresh."

"And a human scent," Wild said, in his wereferret form. "Possibly kids screwing around in the cemetery. That's disrespectful, true, but maybe it accounts for the scent."

"Do we get to kill them?" Demos said, unable to help himself.

Shanker whapped him on the nose with an old newspaper, "No. Bad demon. Baaaaad demon."

"Hilarious," Demos replied dryly. Clearly he didn't think it actually was hilarious.

Suddenly, music piped up and a "ghost" with a calendar sheet sang:

"Boys and girls of every age,
Wouldn't you like to see something strange?
Come with us and you will see.
This, our heist nature of Halloween."

"Uh . . ." all three RAFians said, stunned, as the song continued:

"This heist is Halloween, this heist is Halloween."

"But it isn't Halloween." Wild said.

"Pumpkin kiddies scream in the dead of night.
This is Halloween heist, everybody leave the scene.
Trick or treat till the neighbors gonna die of fright.
It's our heist, everybody scream!
In this heist of Halloween!"

"How do you steal a holiday?" Demos asked, not troubling to keep his voice down. He was still unheard.

"I am the one hiding under your bed,
Teeth razor sharp and eyes glowing red.
I am the one hiding under your stairs,
Fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair."

"Hiiiiiiiiiiisssssssssssssssssssssss . . ." Shanker hissed. This caused the Calendar Creep to scream like a little girl and run away, leaving his calendar bedsheet behind. Shanker blinked. He hadn't expected it to be so easy.

[redtailedsaffa]

I'm betting grumpy old lady shows up again.

[guitarhero01234]

Great, now I'm imagining Calendar Creep with the voice of Danny Elfman.

[Cloak]

I'm betting grumpy old lady shows up again.

Perhaps.

Great, now I'm imagining Calendar Creep with the voice of Danny Elfman.

More like Jame Hong, as his character of Chi-Fu from "Mulan", for me. Hence all the "scream like a little girl" references.

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIX:
Toxic Turkeys and Ballistic Balloons

"Oh, Underseen, stop being such a baby!" Abby chided teasingly. "It's just a little shopping spree."

Saffa and Abby had dragged Underseen with them to the local mall, which wasn't anything real fancy compared to that of other cities. It was just a single story building with a rather sprawled out with stores here and there.

"First of all, guys don't usually go on shopping sprees unless they are dragged there," Underseen said, laden with their purchases. "Second of all, you saddled me with all of your bags!!"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Saffa teased. "There are only two boxes."

"And six bags!!"

"Well, we had a little holiday shopping that needed doing." Abby said.

"If you're having so much difficulty, shapeshift bigger," Saffa said, pragmatically.

"That's not the point! The principle of the matter is -- wait, what?" Underseen complained.

"Attention, shoppers!!" Calendar Creep announced. He was dressed in calendar-patterned pilgrim attire, and holding glistening, steaming turkey in his right gloved hand, and he carried what appeared to be an oxygen tank, with an odd hose welded to its side. "Die!!"

Underseen dropped the packages, secretly thankful for the excuse. He prepared to battle this new stranger. Meanwhile, Saffa's and Abby's scope of ability to do anything was severally limited as they couldn't morph their clothes and they would need their jackets and boots for the chilly weather outside. And there were too many people to take them off, and not only risk them getting stolen but potentially risk violating an indecency law, and not all the cops of this country were decent people.

The Calendar Creep threw the turkey like it was one of Green Goblin's s pumpkin bomb, and it exploded into a noxious goo which adhered fast to the place where it was landed. Underseen quickly shapeshifted into a Bengal tiger, and began to pad very quickly towards the Calendar Creep.

The Calendar Creep didn't scream like a little girl, but blasted a balloon, or at least, what looked like a balloon, with a ballistic trajectory. Underseen dodged by shapeshifting into a macaque, a monkey, and swung around and ambled around avoiding the ballistic balloons. Very smoothly, Underseen shapeshifted from a monkey to a Titanoboa, and began to coil around the Calendar Creep, who screamed like a macaque, but in terror rather than anger. His aim became more erratic.

Underseen found himself having to shapeshift into an eagle. He beat his wings against the Creep's face and the Creep shrieked a high-pitched shriek. His aim became even more erratic, so much so that Underseen had to shapeshift a mouse to get close again. Then he shapeshifted into a Chinese-style dragon and let out a roar which caused the Creep to wet his quilted pants. He clicked his weapon, but he was out of ammo.

He ran. He ran, leaving his toxic turkeys and ballistic balloon shooter behind, as Underseen reassumed his base form.

[redtailedsaffa]

Could've chucked diamonds at the guy, but that'll cause even more frenzy from the idiot locals.

Although, if I was at the mall, you'd have to drag me out of the food court or bookstore more than anything.