Memoirs of a RAFian

[guitarhero01234]

"I don't give a rat's . . . Look, Roger, just do it. And tell Donald that he better look the other way on this or he won't be getting any donations for his presidential campaign in a few years." Jaxur said, firmly and angrily. "I don't care! Just do it!"

Donald Trump is a Knight of Humanity? That . . . actually makes a lot of sense. Please tell me that will somehow be a plotpoint in future books.

[redtailedsaffa]

I just had to +1 for that.

[Cloak]

I didn't say that he was . . . *twiddles thumbs innocently*

But no, it won't be a plotline. Well, at least, not right now. I don't always adhere so fervently to my outlines sometimes.

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Goode Sacrifice

"I don't think you understand the situation, Goode," Jaxur said.

Goode was tied to a straight-backed wooden chair. He wasn't gagged, as so the Knights could get information out of him, or compliance. Only now Goode was perfectly wise to them. He knew Jaxur wasn't a true military general, though his impersonation was very convincing at first. But the more Goode thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that he had been hoodwinked.

Especially when he realized a childhood friend had disappeared. She had married a Saiyan, but this wasn't common knowledge. But Goode had managed to put two and two together, and realized his invention could have possibly have lead to her disappearance along with her family.

He felt distinctly aggrieved about this. He believed them to be dead, and he blamed himself for their deaths, along with an unknown amount of disappearance.

"I understand it just fine, thank you very much," he replied caustically.

"I don't think you do," Jaxur countered, rather imperiously, pacing in front of him, hands behind his back.

"I heard your ultimatum," Good said, sadness evident, his left eye revealed to be black, swollen and puffy. He had a small stream of blood dribbling from the right corner of his mouth. "I heard it. That was all the confirmation that I needed."

"Then you'd do well to side with the good guys," Jaxur said.

"I will," Goode argued. "When they get here."

Jaxur was incensed at this, but he managed to hold himself together. "Where are your notes on the void projector?"

Goode actually smiled at this. It looked painful. "Gone."

"What?" Jaxur said at once.

"Gone." Goode repeated, taking a savage enjoyment from the shocked look on Jaxur's face. "Destroyed."

"Destroyed? Destroyed how? By whom?" Jaxur said, fervently.

 "By me."

"What?!"

"I destroyed them," Goode went on, "because I knew someone else would try to use them as you had. I knew if the projector prototype was destroyed, you would come after me."

"Then you will just have to rebuild it yourself," Jaxur said, decisively.

"No," Goode decided.

"I don't think you understand," Jaxur said, "you're at the disadvantage here."

"But, am I?" Goode said, still with the painful smile.

"What do you mean?"

"You need me," the inventor pointed out, "you need me, but I don't need you."

"You will do as we say or --"

"Or what?" Goode pressed. "You'll kill me? Go ahead. Then try to get your void projector from me when I'm dead. Good luck."

Jaxur looked stymied, but recovered swiftly, conjuring another threat, but Goode predicted precisely what it was.

"Going to threat my family and friends?" Goode said, acidly. "Nice try. But I haven't any family. I have no children. No wife. No living parents. No family. And my friends were already killed by you and your ilk."

Jaxur was stupefied.

"Now," Goode said, with a snarl, "what advantage did you have over me again?"

Jaxur was incensed, and he struck out without thinking. Goode had sacrificed his life rather to allow the Knights the projector to use as a weapon again.

[Cloak]

New book ideas.

• Book DCCLXXIII: "Domino Effect" -- A boy ghost uses spectral displacement.
• Book DCCLXXIV: "Soul Collector" -- A boy ghost collects pieces of a broken soul to Frankenstein them.
• Book DCCLXXV: "Cry Justicing" -- A boy Skinjacker goes to bring criminals to justice . . . before going too far and getting carried away with it.
• Book DCCLXXVI: "Healing From Within" -- A girl Skinjacker has the ability to heal the bodies she Skinjacks.

The titles may change. Don't think I rehashed anything.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Be A RAFian

It wasn't long before the RAFians got wind of Goode's death. As well as learned his refusal to help the Knights, and they learned the general kind of person we was from the Saiyan's human wife, and the Saiyan himself.

It was a saddening, somber experience, though they knew that the Knights no longer had the Void Space projector. But Goode's death kind of put a damper on the good news. A good man had sacrificed his life to keep the power of bigotry at bay.

It was a very noble, and selfless thing to do. It would not be forgotten so easily.

***

Cloak and Shadow, who was seven again for some reason, were standing admist a marshy wasteland. There was still some green here. It was the perfect place to train. Cloak sang*:

"Let's get down to business,
To protect the world."

But Shadow protested:

"But I don't think that I'm ready."

"Don't you be absurd.
You're the best pupil I've ever met,
And you can bet
Before we're through --
Shadow, I'll make a RAFian outta you!"

"But I'm only seven," Shadow protested, before Cloak threw a terrakinetically lifted rock at her, shouting "DODGE!", which she did immediately.

Meanwhile, a moderate distance away, but within visual range of the two Realm Walkers, Blue was training a newbie. He sang:

"Raise your hands to the sky,
To collect the ki."

Blue's student exclaimed, through song:

"Hey, I think I got it!"

Then he saw Shadow.

"Ooh, look! A monkey!"

Meanwhile, Asmo was giving far more questionable training. He favored the abridged Mr. Popo's teaching style. He sang, voice full of sadistic amusement of which the abridged Mr. Popo would have been proud:

"You're a spineless, pale, pathetic lot.
And you haven't got a clue.
Somehow, I'll make a RAFian outta you."

The four newbies under his care really didn't care for this training. They whine and complained, only for Asmo to declare, "Pecking order!"

"Oh, my god, this is worse than death," one complained under his breath.

"Hope Asmo doesn't screw with me," complained another.

"Man, I really hope to live through the day," another complained.

"What's wrong, maggots? Out of breath?" Asmo asked, apparently enjoying the complaints.

"I really need a keg of gin," the last one complained.

Back to Cloak:

"You must be as swift as coursing river."

"AAAAH!" Shadow cried out as she fell into a coursing river.

"With all the force of a great typhoon."

"Uncle, help!"

"With all the strength of a raging fire,
Mysterious as the dark side of the moon."

Meanwhile, two Saiyan pods were racing forward, towards the Earth. One held Queen, the other accommodated Malice. Queen sang, in a husky voice:

"Time is racing forward,
Until we . . . arrive."

Malice countered:

"Shut the Veil up, Queen,
And you might . . . survive!"

"Malice, are we there yet?"

"No, Queen, no, we aren't."

"How 'bout now?"

"No! Gateburst it, Queen!"

Back to Asmo's students, Asmo sang as he tortured them with training:

"You must be swift as a coursing river,
With the force of a great typhoon,
With all the strength of a raging fire,
Mysterious as the dark side of the moon!"

Then Blue's student sang this last verse as well. Then, when he pulled off the technique he was learning, he exclaimed, "Hey, Blue, I did it!"

Blue replied, voice very noncommittal, "Awesome."

. . .

Cloak woke up, beary-eyed and groggy, and said, "I've been watching too much TeamFourStar, I guess."


*Source song: https://m.youtube.com/?#/watch?v=V06DISKajss

[redtailedsaffa]

The dark penultimate chapter and then the randomness of the final chapter really messed with my head.

[Cloak]

It was meant as a treacle cutter. In the original outline, it wasn't as dark as that, though.

New chapter.

BOOK XCV:
AN EPIC YARN
CHAPTER ONE:
A Jungle in Here

The RAFian had allowed a class trip to visit the forum, it was the last one the kids would have in the year. It was not yet their winter break, as theirs was not a year-round school. Yes, those existed.

The kids were bursting with excitement at the novelty of the trip. And because they were six-year-olds. One kid sang:

"This place is different
Than our own backyard."

A second, more cowardly, one sang:

"I hope we haven't gone too far."

A third excitedly sang:

"We're somewhere new
And we haven't a clue."

A fourth wrung Blue's hand, and then turned and sang, while Blue looked thoroughly nonplussed:

"I just met some guy named Blue."

A fifth child sang:

"This is a strange and mysterious place."

A sixth, weird kid sang:

"With a lot of yummy Alloys
For us to chase!"

The second child sang:

"We're walking
And we don't know where."

All of them sang:

"Ooh-wee!
It's a jungle in here!"

The second child, the more cautious of the bunch, sang:

"This place is really neat!"

The sixth kid sang:

"Lots of thingies for us to eat!"

The first child sang:

"Lots of furry things
Everywhere you stare."

Hunter, thinking that the kid was addressing him, said, "Huh?"

The fifth kid, deciding apparently to remind everyone of his maturity, sang:

"Feels like I got some
In my underwear!"

GH was disgusted, as he said, "'Kay, gross.  Just -- gross."

The first kid caught Shadow happen to brachiate to a tree where she sat, and he sang:

"A monkey swinging all around."

Shadow shrugged an indifferent shrug, "It's a monkey thing."

The fourth kid sang:

"I wonder if we're evergoing to get found?"

Demos loomed out of the darkness, with unintentional menace and malice, and said, "Yes."

The fourth kid ran away, screaming bloody murder, while Demos looked on, perplexed. "Was it something I said?"

Meanwhile, the third kid sang:

"We're having lots of fun.
Hey, look over there . . ."

Jess sniffed, "I'm not here to be gawked at."

The sixth kid sang:

"Great big lizard hanging from a tree."

Twig, a rather nomadic Hork-Bajir, said, "Oh, geez.  Can't I eat in peace?"

The second kid sang:

"I hope that it doesn't eat up me!"

Twig countered testily, "I'm a vegetarian!"

The fourth kid sang:

"Fat, big something looking me in the eye,
Look at that there fairy fly!"

Faerie was suddenly livid. She approached the kid, and got in her face. "WHAT. . . . DID. . . . YOU. . . . CALL. . . . ME . . .?"

Mr. Guy tried to diffuse the situation, saying, "Cut her a break, Fae.  She's a kid."

"That's no excuse!" Faerie spat. Then she composed herself, and allowed herself rationality again. ". . . Well, I suppose. . . ."

The fifth kid sang, addressed Raevyn, another nomadic RAFian, an avian one:

"Beautiful birdy, sing a song,
Tweet tweet!"

Raevyn seemed to consider before declining, "Eh, not today."

The second sang:

"I hope we don't expire here for long!"

Then they all sang:

"Look sharp,
It's a jungle in here!
Ooh-wee!
It's a jungle in here!"

"Cute kids," Saffa noted, in a noncommittal way, as they left. She never looked up from her textbook.

[redtailedsaffa]

Ugh, kids. Why is it kids.

[guitarhero01234]

^ My sentiments exactly.

[Cloak]

Which why you had no part in it, Saffa.

It was a PR thing, anyway. Er -- that's supposed to be "public relations" and not "Power Rangers".

Now, I suppose this could be a lighter book then a lot of the recent ones -- but as I apparently have a habit of making them darker then I originally outline . . .

Anyway, four chapters up yesterday. All in all, I'd say that was productive.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWO:
Well, Yarn It!!

A sock laid discarded upon the sidewalk in a forgotten alley of the city. Despite the filthy environment, the sock appeared to be untouched by the dirt and grime. An impressive feat for a sock.

But this wasn't an ordinary sock. It was a container, rather like Rita Repulsa's trash can thing. Within was a creature that had the potential for being very dangerous, if not very large. It was a rather minute sorcerer with a Napoleon complex.

Soon, the sock was carelessly torn open and the foot and a half sorcerer was set free. He was made nearly entirely out of yarn, mounted to some fabric of an indeterminate nature. It was good that he was made out of yarn due to being a yarn sorcerer. He possessed a white moustache, a large, prominent button for a nose, two yellow pupils and a blue body with dull blue stripes. He wore a red hat with a purple band, and wielded two mahogany knitting needles, one with purple eyes, a sinister smile, and a single horn with the other possessing yellow eyes, two horns, and a displeased frown.

He looked as if he wanted to say, "Ah, after two thousand years, I'm free! It's time to conquer Earth!" or something along those lines. But it couldn't, not with it being as it was. It was not yet strong enough. Then it eyed the sock, and it began to unravel the sock, adding its magical yarn to itself. Its prison was becoming a power boost. It's prison was enabling it to quadruple in size, maybe even quintiple -- and that may not even be a word! He was roughly five feet tall and seven feet wide, and his scepter-like knitting needles were, somehow, large enough to be staffs.

Now he wielded sufficient power, with the sock's magic also coarsing through him. He used that power to make just one little alteration to the world . . .

***

"What the --"

Saffa had to finally look up from her textbook.

"Okay, who did this?" she demanded. She was made of yarn now! But just an outline with empty, transparent space between. As if someone who was making a portrait of her and being very economical with the lines. She wasn't sure she liked that. "I don't think it's funny. You can see right though me."

"You're a girl," Rotiart said, snottily, having been made yarn as well. "It's not that hard."

Saffa scowled, and moved to slap him, but accidentally sent out a yarn whip which attached to him. Saffa was surprised, and she whirled her hand, causing Rotiart -- or rather the yarn that made up Rotiart -- was shifted into a baseball as Saffa withdrew the yarin whip.

"THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR!" Rotiart whined.

[redtailedsaffa]

Slight innuendo there.

[Cloak]

[redtailedsaffa]

Sorry, my brain is wired horribly

PDF of the last book:

[Cloak]

It's okay. And thanks for the PDF, Saffa. I dunno, just the fact that "Memoirs" may be on someone's Kindle . . . it makes me feel a little prideful.

Anyway, since I'm posting this now, the next chapter may be posted a little later than normal tomorrow. Since I work tomorrow, and I'm not off again until Monday.

New chapter.

CHAPTER THREE:
Power Adjustments

After Saffa's little discovery, it became clear that their powers did not work the same as they did when they weren't all, uh, "yarn-ified". Although Cloak and Shadow were just about the only ones who were not affected by this, ahem, "yarn-ification", their abilities seemed affected as well, as there was no longer any earth to manipulate or see through, just mixtures of fabrics, zippers, yarn, strings, and buttons. The only metal around was the pulli.g thing on the zippers and zipper teeth themselves. And the only true wood was some of the buttons. The aerokinesis manifested as silvery white yarn, the hydrokinesis manifested as either blue yarn or blue fabric swatches, and the pyrokinesis manifested as red and yellow yarn. Cloak wasn't sure he liked it, while Shadow thought it was kinda funny.

Saffa, Abby, and all the other morphers and shapeshifters found that their powers, more or less, worked with the same triggers, the same methods for the activation of the ability, but the process looked and felt entirely different and, somehow, wrong. Like unraveling themselves and remaking themselves.

GH's acoustic prowess was now manifested as translucent string formed in concentric circles, but, otherwise, pretty much the same. But he discovered he could "morph" his guitar! He couldnmake it into a literal axe, or a stylish hoverbike. He hadn't tried anything else yet.

Parker could fire yarnballs from his weaponry and use his energy sword just like before. It was only . . . they seemed far less badass when "yarn-ified". Suffice it to say, he wasn't fond of the "yarn-ification".

Power rings, such as Helen's worked pretty much the same, in principal. Only their constructs were made out of yarin and fabric and things instead of light. Helen didn't seem to mind all that much, though it was a bit disconcerting.

Sakki's sonics worked rather like GH's acoustics, but she swore she somehow gained a wider decibel range, being able to unfold her jaws to Exploud proportions. She, in constrast to the others, seemed to enjoy the "yarn-ification" because of this fact.

And so it went. The RAFians tried to acclimate to this whole new set of physics and whatnot. Yet, they remained in the dark about what caused this global change. What caused the Earth to be turned into essentially a patchwork quilt.

***

The yarn sorcerer, Spin-Yarn, looked at his accomplishment. He had succeeded in his transformation yarn magic. He could speak now, with a dual voice rather like that of a Celestialsapien.

But he had to rest. This act of yarn magic transmogrification drained a great deal of his power, of his strength. But he would regain his strength soon enough, and he knew of one thing he had not yet obtained. An item that would cinch his takeover.

He didn't quite know what he wanted Earth so terribly bad, or what he would do with it when he conquered it, but that wasn't the point. It was the actual act, the process, of conquering. That was the reason why he was doing this. He loved the act over overpowering a foe into submission.

He would savor the chase to the important artifact . . .  the acquiring, the obtaining of the Atlas String . . . he would lord it over all those who oppose him, as well as taking the power of the Atlas String. He would take it from the Alpha Stitch, and make it his . . .

[redtailedsaffa]

You keep interchanging yarn with Yarin. In the signature too.

[Cloak]

Gah! Thought I got them all.

Mental tick, I guess.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR:
Making Minions

But Spin-Yarn was not yet strong enough. The millennia it had spent locked up within that magical sock, which he took its power as his own. But he felt that power wasn't sufficient for what he wanted.

Besides, he was the big yarn boss. He should have minions to do his bidding for him. Sure he could take control over the populace -- which would make for a rather easy victory. But Spin-Yarn did want victory to be that easy. He didn't want all the challenge to be removed from the conquest.

But, more than that, he felt that having minions would give him a certain prestige. He liked having a prestige above others, and, like most egotistical villains, he wasn't above vanity. He wasn't above the perceptions of grandeur, even when none truly exist.

So, he would make minions. Out of yarn, strings, and buttons, of course. Naturally. He wouldn't make them too smart, as they miht question why they had to take orders from him. He wouldn't make them too independent, because they might go against his wishes or even rebel against him. He wouldn't make them too powerful, because of obvious reasons. He would make them extremely loyal, to an almost religious fanaticism, to ensure that they do what he asked, what he ordered, of them.

First, he created a large, thick-bodied, green dragon, with a string tongue tipped with a red button and minute wings. He gave it button eyes. He gave this dragon the standard dragon abilities -- fire breath, flight (despite its wings were too small to allow for it), and such. Spin-Yarn gave it the name of Foom Fang.

Second, he created a red-orange phoenix, with an appearance reminiscent to Dyna Blade (of the Kirby universe), with a orangish-red crest and orangish-red tail feathers. Its wings are completely shrouded in flames. It has an orange beak, orange talons, and yellow eyes. It also had the green button on its chest. Spin-Yarn gave it the name of Inferno Wing.

Third, he created a predigitation-like magician with an orange jack-o-lantern for a head, complete with glaring purple eyes and an evil grin. It wore a monochromatic cape with a green bowtie. It also wears a black top hat with a brown band and a red rose on it. It appeared to have no arms or legs, but it has a wand that it uses to determine and conjure his attacks with . . . slot reels. Spin-Yarn gave it the name Slot Magician.

Fourth, he created a giant blue and white squid with purple eyes. It has a yellow unibrow and a giant mouth. It has numerous tentacles, but he only uses three to attack at one time. Its appearance can change to that of a stout, green octopus. Spin-Yarn gave it the name of Snare Cephalopod.

Spin-Yarn sat back, and thought these four minions were good for now. He would be able to have an easier time finding the Atlas String. These four minions were powerful, in their own right, but still subpar compared to their lord and master. Spin-Yarn considered if they were enough. Perhaps the prudent course would be to make more, but he tired. He expended enough energy already.

But then he managed to snag another potential minion. His name was Yarin.