Memoirs of a RAFian

[guitarhero01234]

Ooh, exciting!

Just curious, are you planning anything special for book 100?

[Cloak]

Nope, not really.

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Surprise Twist

Bear glowered at Malice, and managed to amble up the vertical sides of the sunken arena, with help from Cloak and Sam. Bear still had the Jägerbar's blood on fur, and he didn't like the reminder.

"Oh, cheer up, Bear-Boy! You did spendidly!" Malice said, glowing with enjoyment, as she added the Jägerbar's body to the rotting pile. "Next!"

Rotiart stepped up, though his timidness and hesitation seeped through the brave and courageous veneer that he had propped up rather shakily. It was clear that he was terrified and much wished that he never said anything. But he felt that he must do this. He as been too much of a coward and a louse. He needed to prove his worth, no to the others but to himself. He needed to do this. He had to. He had to.

He climbed down to the arena, armed with nothing but a generic sword that was, in truth, too long, too heavy, and too awkward for his unfamiliar hand. He also had a holstered Shredder-like gun, despite being the worst shot of all the RAFians. He really was the Dan Hibiki or Hercule of the RAFians.

He touched the arena floor with timid trepidation. Deep in his gut, he knew thst this wasn't going to go well, but he ignored that. His bravado had long since left him behind. His arrogance was completely forgotten. His haughtiness evaporated.

Malice's next victim, however, was the serpentine Lauenschlange by the name of Lucas Penn, a lesser politican. He was completely ensconced in yellowish-gray scales with a slight boa-like pattern on them. He also had sharp fangs, a forked tongue, and slit pupils, and no hair. He was naturally stronger than humans and able to casually overpower humans and Mauzhertz. He was very stealthy, allowing them to sneak up on his victims, which was actually suitable for his chosen profession, believe it or not. He was also naturally aggressive, but also cowardly and unethical.

Rotiart was, naturally, intimidated, but he hid it to continue to affect his mask of bravery, though it was obvious that he was terrified. His ray gun shook as he unholstered it and fired, missing by a wide margin.

Then he began to shoot wildly, and Cloak decided to pull him out of there. He was clearly panicking, and Cloak could help but rebuke himself for permitting this to happen. But even Cloak could see the difference in Rotiart's demeanor, and wanted to give him the chance . . . it was foolish. Foolish on both of their parts.

This wasn't going to end well.

The ray gun ran out very quickly, with the wild shots that never hit anything other than the arena's wall. And Lucas never moved, not one inch. Rotiart really could not hit the broad side of a barn. In the end, Rotiart threw the gun, which was only moderately heavy, and it just had a glancing blow to the ocular lob of the Lauenschlange, which only served to annoy him.

Lucas did not even move to attack, mostly because Malice did not give the okay, but Rotiart was clearly not ready for this battle, but he refused to be taken out of the battle by Cloak. He would win. He had to. He was not useless. He was not worthless. He could contribute. He didn't have to have others look after him.

He held the blade in his left hand, prepared to battle. He was easily disarmed, though, as the
Lauenschlange was given to okay to engage. Rotiart really stood no chance.

"Rotiart, I'm pulling you --" Cloak said.

"NO! Let me do this!!" Rotiart said defiantly, with a quaver in his voice.

"Rotiart. You don't stand --"

"No interference, Elements Master!" Malice said, suddenly severe. "These are battles to the death!"

"I don't -- Rotiart!!" Cloak exclaimed.

He was too late. The Lauenschlange had already gone in for the attack. He bit off Rotiart's hand. He lacerated Rotiart's skin with his fangs, causing him to start to bleed out. Rotiart's legs were next, chewed straight off. Rotiat looked rather like Anakin Skywalker right before he donned the Darth Vader suit. Only with a cuts instead of burns.

Rotiart moved and moaned and groaned with pain. Then he moved no more. He was dead. By all stretches of the imagination, Cloak not fathom him still living. And somehow, the fact that Dwellers left behind their bodies when they died, somehow disturbed him. And, despite all his faults, Cloak would have never wanted this for anyone.

"Excellent!" Malice squealed. Then she decapitated the Lauenschlange, saying, "Well, your usefulness has ended."

Rotiart. Dead. It was hard to fathom. But his body had vanished . . . Malice kust have added it to her corpse pile. . . .

[guitarhero01234]

. . . Holy ****. Cloak, you can't do this. You can't build up a character and then just kill him off like that. God damn it, I FIGURED THIS WOULD HAPPEN, AND I STILL HAVE THE FEELS.

[redtailedsaffa]

GOD DAMNIT THIS IS NOT THE FIRST THING I WANTED TO READ IN THE MORNING OH GOD THE FEELS

[Cloak]

I did warn you that a RAFian would die. . . .

*looks like he was going to say more, but declines.*

[redtailedsaffa]

Yes but I was kinda expecting that to be the end of the book. Well played.

[Cloak]

Well, I suppose we can gather the Dragonballs . . .

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Lion Around

"Alrighty then," Malice said, inappropriately jovial, "let's get a move on shall we?"

The RAFians, still surprised at the abrupt suddenness and the utter brutality of Rotiart's death, said nothing.

"Oh, come now," Malice said, ambivalently reproachful, "we mustn't be sore losers! Choose your next challenger!"

Cloak glared at Malice, about to go off on her. But Underseen had already made his way to the arena. He was as incensed at the others, despite not particularly liking Rotiart in the first place.

"Underseen, no. We need to --"

"I know what I'm doing, Cloak," Underseen said, anger in his tone. But the anger was not directed at Cloak, but at another Realm Walker. "And, whatever this opponent, I will make Malice pay."

"Ooh, big words, little Dweller, big words." Malice said, coolly.

Malice then sent out a Löwen by the name of Earl Irons, a leading industrialist. He was naturally aggressive, furious, competitive, vicious, and prone to violence. He had black, large, bushy manes. He has razor sharp claws and teeth, and he generally kill his victims by biting their necks or slashing their throats. He is incredibly strong and much faster than humans, quite able to casually overpower and kill humans. He is capable of leonine jumps and able to move with incredible stealth, allowing him to sneak up on his victims (which was actually pretty useless in this arena).

But the Löwen was still at a disadvantage. He did not have the versatility of Underseen, who could quite literally adapt to anything that Earl throws at him. Not to mention Earl's biological weaponry could do little to Underseen's form repertoire.

"Is that the best you got, Malice?" Underseen said, unimpressed.

The Löwen roared in reply.

Underseen easily got around to his back by quickly shapeshifting into a small bird, and upon landing on his back, quickly shapeshifted into an anaconda, and began to constrict Earl, pinioning his hands to his side before he could react.

Cloak thought it was shameful. Felines, or feline facsimiles, unable to react in the time that Underseen gave the Löwen? Shameful! Absolutely shameful!

Underseen easily crushed him into submission. The control collar wasn't really thought of, but it was rather karmic for Earl, considering how many lives he had ruined because of his greed, because of his arcanine need for power and domination. Underseen squeezed harder with every exhale that Earl took, making it harder for him to fil his lungs again, weakening him with every exhale. Strength is nothing if you can't breath, if you can't respirate.

Within several tense moments, Underseen released his grip, shapeshifted back to his base form, and walked away. The Löwen had been crushed to death.

"It is done," Underseen said, acidly, addressing Malice, "your perverse game continues, you devil."

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Dino and Knifetooth

Underseen would have want to attack Malice directly, but she had erected an energy forcefield around herself, so similar to how Cloak has done so many times before.

Meanwhile, Cloak was glaring at Malice as she was clearing the arena of the Löwen corpse. Was her goal as simple as that? Was her goal just simply to kill the RAFians? She was only successful with Rotiart. Was her goal really that simple? That cut-and-dry? What if there was no ulterior motive?

Dino leaped into the area, which was surprising, considering most of the RAFians assumed that she was too heavy, even in her compact form, to jump. And she was jn her compact form, as the area and the arena itself were too small to accommodate her true size. She roared, "I'm up next, Malice, BRING IT ON!!!"

"Very well, dinosaur," Malice said, unintimidated.

Malice sent out a smilodon-like Mauvais Dentes named Diego Donaldson, an "enforcer" with friminal ties. He has gray fur over his head and arms, with black stripes and enormous teeth capable of leaving puncture wounds in his victims up to an inch in diameter. He was incredibly strong creature, able to casually overpower grown men. He was also highly agile, fast, and stealthy, and he has razor sharp teeth and claws that he uses to kill. When he kills, he lacerates his victims and bite their necks. He is also very durable: one was able to take multiple punches to the head without much reaction. He would even go so far as eating his victim.

He had a reputation for baiting his victims before killing them, enjoying tricking and deceiving their opponents, much like cats. He had no qualms endangering innocent bystanders if that would bring him much closer to his designated target or targets.

Diego roared, and Dino returned the roar. Her roar, however, was far more fierce and intimidating. Diego leapt up and tried to bite and slash Dino's leathery, saurian neck. But she wasn't a stationary target, and she managed to dodge this attack and ram her head into the lumbar region of Diego's back. She managed to do it with enough force that he most certainly felt it, as he was having a difficulty standing up without pain.

Dino was still, even in her compact form, bigger than Diego. Big enough that she could have eaten him in three bites, as opposed to the singular bite it would take at her true size. Her skin was too tough for his claws to penetrate easily, and his fangs would be able to do damage, but not really enough to kill Dino. Also if he had gotten atop her ankylosaurid shell, she would not really would not be able to do anything, except try to roll over, which could lead to the classic turtling scenario.

Of course, Diego shouldn't have only been watching her mouth of tyrannosaurid teeth. You see, Dino is dangerous on both ends, not unlike a Seviper in this capacity.

Dino had slugged Diego with her ankylosaurid club tail, and that sent him crashing into the arena wall. From there, he slumped to the ground, motionless. Not too surprising, as Dino can swing that tail with sufficient force to break a tyrannosaur's thigh bone.

The match was done, but Dino tried to go after Malice, but the forcefield came up and all Dino had to show for it was a chipped tooth. She regretfully returned to the audience area -- somehow. Cloak didn't see how.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:
Buzz, Buzz, Buzz

"Oh, I see how it is, now." Malice said, her eyes twinkling with malicious mischievousness. "All I needed to do for you to take these battles to the death seriously was kill one of your number. Well, if that's all I had to do to gain credibility as a threat, I would have done that at the start!"

"I swear Malice, one of these days," Cloak growled, "I will slay you just as I slayed Cataclysm."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Malice said, indifferent to the idle threat, looking at her claws in an idle, unconvinced manner. "You keep saying that. And yet, here I am, still alive. You cannot bring yourself to kill me -- Cataclysm was just a fluke, I doubt it was ever intentional on your part. You don't have the guts, the fortitude to take a life."

"Taking a life, disregarding a life -- this is not strength," Cloak said, "valuing life is not weakness. This is a simple concept -- one you seem quite unable to comprehend, Malice. And, for that, I find you a pitiable creature. One that I had hoped there would be some measure of redeeming qualities. But I cannot believe that any longer. You have no redeemable qualities. You will never seek redemption. You are a lost cause."

"As are you, Cloak. As are you." Malice countered, although it was rather sloppy. "You parlay with these Dwellers -- befriend them! Like one of these humans calling insects friends! They are nothing more useful than pawns and entertainment."

"Then why did you --"

"Oh, enough talking aready? Alright? I'll go next if it means the end to all this stupid monologuing!" Faerie said, irritably. When she got antsy, she got annoyed. She brought out a battleade-halberd hybrid that she forged from what remained of her Gale Blade and her old battleaxe. "Send out your next stupid challenger so I can get rid of him and give you a taste of your own medicine!"

Malice chose to use the Mellifer by the name of Thomas Combs, a beekeeper. He had large, blue compound eyes, his mouth had external, articulated mandibles, and antennae on his forehead. He had superhumanly strong, and possessed a bioluminescent apitoxin from a Mellifer stinger (which was a Jules Verne-like injection device).

Thomas had no real natural aggression, unless provoked, but Faerie had easily disarmed him of his stinger, and crushed it beneath her heel as she glared at him. Faerie had the capabilityof being quite formidably intimidating when she was riled, and that seemed to be an almost supernatural ability, as it seemed to be able to seep beneath the power of the control collar. Which she quickly plucked off.

"Leave. Now." She commanded.

Thomas wasn't fool enough to go against Faerie's demands, and he quickly capitulated and complied. The Mellifer was gone.

"Well, that was disappointing," Malice said, sourly.

[redtailedsaffa]

It says something that Faerie reacted a lot less aggressively than Horse, when you'd expect it to be the other way round...

[Cloak]

Well, they have layers, as we all do. Good point, nonetheless, Saffa, I didn't realize it myself. But Horse was rather hysterical because polar bears tend to prey on seals, like her, and she didn't want to experience being eaten or killed. Faerie had no such worries with the Mellifer.

Sorry if I came off pompous here.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:
That's Bull!

Faerie flung her axe/halberd at Malice, but it was deflected by the energy shield, and Faerie snatched up her weapon. Faerie flew back up to the others, knowing that her attack Malice was doomed to failure from the start.

"Oh, give it up," Malice said. "Your Dweller pets can't kill me, Cloak. Surely, you've illuminated them of this fact?"

"'Illuminated'? I think you misused that," Cloak said, caustically.

"Like it matters," Malice said. "Next challenger! Next!"

Goom flipped about, not unlike a Jedi of Yoda's species, and landed in the arena with far more impressive agility than Cloak thought Goombas were capable of. He didn't appear to have any weapons, and Cloak wondered and worried and fretted that Goom might follow Rotiart's footsteps.

In response, Malice sent out the bovine Mordstier by the name of Taran Minos, a daylaborer. He has large, but dull horns that range in span from 23" to 35", floppy bovine ears, and a bovine muzzle. The nose was flattened, and his eyes glow red. His feet were hooves, allowing him to run very quickly. He can deliver a powerful shove when he charges. His skin is thicker than body armor.

Taran charged Goom, who easily flipped out of the way with an agility that belied his size and lack of arms. Cloak realized that Goom had actually had an advantage. He was a small target, and, as such, he was harder to hit. And Goom had known this all along. He hadn't thought of a way to defeat this opponent though.

But Goom was a person who preferred to think these things out, and this particular Mordstier was the opposite, rushing in without thinking, and then reacting from that. This gave Goom another weapon to use against Taran.

Goom had leaped and landed squarely upon Taran's noggin. He had decided to go for the Hermes-Argus Gambit.

"You know, we really do not need to be fighting like this," he replied in his most boring and his most droning tone of voice. "We could be talking about the weather. I once saw a cloud shaped like a --"

And he continued in that vein for a while. He kept making his voice deliberately boring and droning. And Taran's eyes began to droop. Goom was doing a Cuthbert Binns impression with commendation. Taran may have been brutishly strong, but he hadn't a defense for this strategy.

So, why didn't Malice step in? Yell or shout something to wake up Taran? Be cause the strategy was working on her too. And a fair few of the RAFians, but Cloak quickly realized the strategy and was impressed. He would have never thought of it, personally. Leave it to Goom to think outside the box!

Eventually, Taran collapse in a drowsy stupor due to the dronjng speech from the Goomba, who swiftly and deftly removed the control collar. Then he leaped up in flips and charges back up to the others, having claimed victory.

"You cheated!" Malice shouted -- yet, the Mordstier did not stir. This just angered Malice enough to slay the bovin Wesen herself and dispose the corpse into the pile.

"Hey, some battle with brute strength and bully tactics," Goom said, "but the rest of us use our minds, in conjunction with resourcefulness and strategy."

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:
Gaz Gets A Little Batty

"That was a pathetic attempt, Cloak!!" Malice said, incensed at the tepid ease Goom had with her challenger. Who she killed for no reason. By her own energy, by her own hand. And, yet, she was basically blaming Cloak for Goom's successful strategy. "That was unworthy of you!"

"You think I really care what you think of me, you old hag?" Cloak said, distain etched every corner of his voice. "Stop your transference. I do not dictate the tactics and stratagems of my fellow RAFians. They are thinking, feeling, autonomous beings. They are no mere toys for you to do with which what you will."

"Blah, blah, blah," Malice said. "Don't you ever get tired of being wrong?"

"I am not wrong, Malice," Cloak said, voice actually placid and even, "and you will eventually come to see that. I hope it will not be too late for you to achieve some atonement."

"First Light," Malice snorted, "do you even hear yourself?"

"Oh, shut up, hag," Gaz said, stepping in. How she got away from Laserbeak's watchful eye was a mystery. "I'm up next, so chose your next challenger."

In response, Malice sent out the Murciélago by the name of Michael Silverwing, a tempermental and selfish pop artist. He had glowing red eyes, leathery brown skin, chiropteran features, razor-sharp claws, webbed hands, and vicious rows of teeth. He has the ability to produce a sonic shriek, that is usually fatal to humans. He also possessed keen hearing. He was also more agile than humans, able to walk away after jumping out of a two story window onto solid concrete with no visible wounds. He does not appear to be any stronger than a normal human, but he is quite fast and agile.

"Batty?" Gaz said, confident and a bit ****y. "Batty Koda?"

In response, the Murciélago, this Michael Silverwing, opened his mouth and shrieked. Cloak just managed to throw up an energy barrier to deaden the power of the shriek. He likened it to a Howler's howl . . . but different in an indescribable way, and possessing more raw brute power. He couldn't put Gaz behind it because he couldn't react in time.

But, as it turns out, it was unnecessary. Gaz seemed to be unaffected at all by the shriek, although it did seem to take her by surprise. Seeing this, Michael resorted to his claws, and he began to slash at Gaz, who turned into mist with each attempt, and materialized again either a few feet away, to his immediate right or left, or directly behind him. She was wearing him down by doing this, and she knew this.

When she fought in earnest, she quickly discovered she surpassed him in brute strength. She swifty beat him, which was a stark contrast with Goom's battle. Malice added him to the corpse pile -- making sure that he was a corpse first.

Gaz returned to the audience area.

"That's better, Cloak." Malice sniffed.

[redtailedsaffa]

Just trying to imagine a goomba waddling about in a battle arena itself is hilarious.

[Cloak]

Yeah. Though I do imagine Goom moving like Yoda during his battle with Palpatine.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:
Horsepower

"Next challenger," Malice said, seemingly in a better mood. Cloak looked at her, trying discern some clue to her underlying plan. He was sure that there was one there. Somewhere. But he still could not fathom what it was.

Damien leaped rather recklessly into the arena. And Cloak realize he did not know, or remember the nature of his powers. All he knew is Damien had a habit of recklessness, and he hoped that wouldn't prove disastrous here.

The Malice chooses her champion a Nuckelavee by the name of Ma Runner, a "free-spirited hipster" by "profession". Her appearance resembles that of a skinless horse's head with black blood pulsing through transparent veins, her muscles and sinews also being visible. She has a long mane of hair, equine teeth, grayed skin, and hooves. She had lose her hair, her head was more equine, and she had equine musculature. She was a physically strong and able to hold her own against a Grimm. She was also quick and stealthy. When attacking in her Wesen form, she used her hoof-like hands (all the fingers with the exception of the thumbs) as blunt weapons, which combined with her impressive strength, are at least capable of leaving large dents in the outer hull of car trailers. She was stealthy, quiet, and calm, who approaches tasks logically. She had no qualms with stealing or murder as long as it helps them to succeed in their appointed task. She also possesses incredible determination and would rather die than fail at her tasks. She seemed honorable in that she only goes after the intended target and leaves all bystanders unharmed.

Damien allowed himself a childish snicker, "Horsey."

Ma Runner did not react. Her control collar was wiping away all coherent thought.

"Really, no remark for that? Alright then," Damien said, rather Max-like in his delivery. "Let's just get this started."

Ma Runner blew out air from her nostrils in a very audible exhale. Damien was finding himself not really like this kind of silent treatment.

Damien whipped out his sketchbook and began to sketch something with adept swiftness, every line being very economical. Then he used his pictomancy to bring the drawing to life, and Ma Runner was bound by admantium chains, which not even she could break. She huffed and puffed, trying to break them. But admantium is one of the strongest substances around, and only a scant few ways can break it.

Damien leisurely walked over and removed the control collar, making Ma Runner blink confusingly, as she looked surprised to be in chains.

"You lose," Damien said, as he climbed back up.

Malice, in a fit of temper, killed Ma Runner. She added her to the considerable corpse pile. She was killing most of her champions, and she didn't care.

"A lackluster performance, I must say," Malice said, as Damien destroyed the drawing of the chains, causing them to become nonexistent.

[redtailedsaffa]

RAF Comix comes to mind.