Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

Yes. And this chapter will hafta tide you over until Sunday, as I dunno when or if I'm gonna have time tomorrow to post.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
Creep Out and Deep In

Melissa remembered that the breakup wasn't clean. As she recalled, a song played in the background of her thoughts.

I like to feel the warm spot on your chair.
Sometimes I drool and usually I stare,
My precious one!
I saved that gum that you threw in the garbage!

She would only discover this later, and felt immensely disgusted by it. At the time, she would have just thought that he was still in love with her, nowadays, she wondered if he was even capable of compassion to another.

You're the one I dream about.
But the only question with me now is,
Do I creep you out?

She didn't know if that was true, but wouldn't have put it past him. But he always put himself first, so she would have been surprised if he wasn't playing the part of the victim in his dreams and his narrative.

Every time I shook your hand then,
Wanted to stick your fingers in my mouth!
Do I creep you out?

This never happened, but she wouldn't have been surprised if it were true. He was into some rather . . . kinky . . . things.

Call you every night and hang up.
Gonna carve your name in my leg.
In my leg!

Melissa knew he was just talking out his butt when he told her that. She knew he was just so desperate to have her back, to control her. If she had a wand, and knew how back then, she would have used a powerful Memory Charm on him to get him to completely forget her. She really should have done it anyway, even though she wasn't very good at focused, nonverbal magic at that time.

"Something I should ask about.
Can I sniff the pit stains on your blouse?
And do I creep you,
Do I creep you out?

She got a restraining order from this little action, and when the verdict came out in her favor, he tried to claim that they magicked it this way, and the case wasn't fair. He was laughed out of the proceedings.

Your restraining order's run out,
Still the only question with me now, (oh, the only question)
Is do I creep you out? (Do I creep you out?)

He was really making Melissa's life hell. She wanted so much to curse him within an inch of his life, to crush him with a spell like Gravira. But the far easiest way to extract him, sort of killing him, was to cast a powerful Memory Charm on him. . . .

"Know exactly where you live, always!
Always follow you from work back to your house!
(Followed you from work back to your house!)
Well, do I creep you out?
Do I creep you out?

She had to do something! If only she knew the Fidelus Charm. Then he would not be able to reach her. Especially if she made it Unplottable. But she didn't have that kind of focus with her magic. Even when Jon tried to manipulate her into using it like that. Her magic had always been untrained and unfocused, before Broken, before her wand.

But Jon was making her mad enough that she was finding herself wanting to use the Killing Curse, to use Avada Kedavra, against him. She didn't want to do this, but he was rapidly leaving her with little recourse. . . .

***

Puh, he thinks he can issue me ultimatums. Me?! Spellbinder seethed. I will most certainly not comply to the whims of an arrogant, piece of --

It was then that he remembered a bag that . . . that she gave him. Back before she became defiant. Back before she grew a backbone. The backpack had one of those undetectable enlarging spells or something on them, and it was very iffy at times. But necessity overrode caution in Jon's mind.

He was sure that figure in the cloak would make good on his promise. And looks like someone whose threats should be taken seriously, though the audacity of it still rankled Spellbinder.

He checked his hideout's sole defense. A device that would issue his spellbinding tech to anyone who crosses the threshold of this place. It would pick one of seven hundred subroutines, one of seven hundred scenarios to implant, rotating to another if the first didn't work, until eventually one took hold. He overlooked and forgotten just why this wouldn't work, but he was more concerned with other matters at the moment.

He hurriedly and haphazardly began to shove his treasures down the bag, take out the skinsuit, undress, put on the skinsuit, redress, and then he began to, as GH would say, "haul ass out of there".


Source Song: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=r_U377vst5o

[theyoungphoenix]

hm... interesting...

[Cloak]

Yeah. Apparently, I managed to finish this before work, so here you go!

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
Picky and Nikki

The hour was up, and Cloak went to see if Billings had decided to do as he had asked. He was pretty much trying to force redemption upon Spellbinder, which never ever works. If people want to be redeemed, it has to be because they themselves wish it.

It was because of this that Cloak was altogether unsurprised when he came back to the hideout to discover the pitiful traps that he had laid. His spellbinding device -- which looked like a metal cylinder with a slit in it, which opened revealing an eye. Cloak presumed this was an effort to get rid of him.

If that was the case, Cloak found himself disappointed at the fact that Billings would forget such a crucial fact -- that his spellbinding tech wouldn't work on him, as he wasn't human. That's not something you'd want to slip your mind when you're making traps. It was pitiful.

After Cloak ferrokinetically crushed the device like an aluminium can, he let himself into low building. He saw it mostly empty, save for strings of dust here and there. This gave Cloak pause. If he complied, why go through the trouble and effort -- minimum effort, granted -- to put up a trap. Even a trap that absolutely no chance of working to begin with?

Unless it wasn't meant as a trap, Cloak surmised. Unless it was intended to be a distraction as he cleared out his stolen loot to find another place where he could hide it safely. Or, more likely, where he could pawn it all off in bulk. Apparently, he was unaware that the pawn brokers, at least in this city, were hagglers. He would have to compromise on each stolen item. And if he didn't, he might risk them discovering the fact that they were stolen -- and one or two of the pawn brokers might be fine with that, but there were more with a moral compass better than that.

Suddenly, Cloak noticed a scent. It was different from Spellbinder's which was stale at this point. Cloak had a suspicion where this scent came from -- the black market must be back up and running, even after he thought they had finished it off. But apparently roaches always come back.

Cloak began to follow the scent.

***

Melissa recalled that Jon was relentless with the harassment, until the next restraining order. But Melissa found herself really wanting a companion, one that wasn't Jon Billings.

She went down to the local Humane Society, weary about seeing Jon everywhere, despite the restraining order. He seemed to have lost interest in her, the svengali. She just wanted him out of her life permanently.

Anyway, she walked through the Humane Society, looking for the perfect companion. She was just about to give up, when a tiny paw reached out from a cage and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and saw the cutest American shorthair. Her eyes were yellow and surprisingly intelligent. There was an immediate connection between the two.

When the cage was opened, and Melissa was close enough, the cat jumped into her arms. She started purring the moment they touched. It was a sure thing -- Melissa would be taking this intelligent little rapscallion home with her. The two got along surprisingly well.

"Nikki," Melissa had decided to name her.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Tassels and Hassles

Melissa found herself infinitely happier when Nikki came into the picture. Nikki was the most adorable, loving cat Melissa had ever known, bar none. Nikki seemed to be as enthralled being with Melissa as she was with her.

But most all, Nikki loved to play with tassels, much to Melissa's amusement. They would play whenever Melissa didn't have to work to pay for the house and things. Nikki would even sleep on her bed, almost as if she was watching out for Melissa whilst she slept.

When the restraining order elapsed, Jon was very disturbed -- and angry -- to discover she got a cat. Not only did he hate cats, he was severely allergic to them. Melissa actually did not know this, and if she did, she wouldn't have cared, and gotten Nikki anyway.

Jon was very tempted to kill the cat, to punish Melissa for daring to get one. He believed she got the cat to prevent him from being with her, from using her as a tool, an object. That she got the cat to protect her from him, because he couldn't get anywhere near Nikki's dander.

Jon was very confident that he could break into her house -- he's been ever so careful to keep tabs on her whereabouts. . . . Only to discover that she moved when the restraining order was still in effect. And she transferred from her current job to another one elsewhere.

Jon had no idea where she was now. This forced him to move on, but inspiration from Melissa pushed him to create his spellbinding tech, to study the human psyche more thoroughly than any other man before him. To make him jaded and feel even more entitled.

Melissa had just, unintentionally, birthed Spellbinder.

***

"Sorry, uh, what was your name again?" the pawn shop manager said.

"Sven," Spellbinder said, wearing the skinsuit, "Sven Galliano."

"Well, Mr, Galliano," he said, "the most I can give you is seven twenty-three for this piece."

"Seven twen-- it's worth at least ten times that amount, and you know it!" Spellbinder shouted. Clearly, he hadn't thought this part of his plan through, despite his so-called genius level of intellect. "You give me the proper amount."

"Young man," the pawn shop manager said, as the skinsuit looked a couple years younger than Billings himself. "I do not appreciate the tone."

"I don't really care, Rob Stoll!" Spellbinder roared, having read the man's name tag. "You're trying to con me out of several grand!"

"First of all, it's 'Robert'," he sniffed, "and, second of all, your business here is no longer required or wanted. I ask you to leave now, please."

"Not until you give me a fair price, you doddering old dunderhead!" Spellbinder snarled.

"I already gave you one," the manager said, "now I ask you again. Please leave."

"No!"

"If you do not," the manager said, with remarkable self-control in comparison to Jon, "I shall involve the police."

Billings looked as if he wanted to argue the point, as if he wanted to call the shopkeep a horrible ripoff artist, but he was prudent enough to know that wouldn't do him any good. He couldn't use his spellbinding tech -- none of the scenarios in them would be particularly useful here. Nor did he have any of it in readily accessible place right now.

He didn't want the police involved -- but now he knew he couldn't come back into this store, at least not while wearing this face. But he could always use his tech to come back with a new face. So, all wasn't lost.

He stormed from the building, perhaps jostling his bookbag more roughly then he ought have.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Magic Failure

Jon was not the wisest being in existence. Far from it.

But, honestly, how would a Muggle, a non-magical person, such as himself, know the intricacies of a charm like the Undetectable Extension Charm? How could he possibly know that it is very tricky to perform even by trained wizards and witches, and all use a focusing implement, like a wand.

Melissa had no training nor focusing implement when she made the bag for Jon. Sure, it seemed to have worked at first. But then the charm had no sticking to it, had no permanence to it. Jon did not know that now the charm was wearing off on his bag. The very bag which had his stolen loot inside of, thrown pell-mell into it.

All the rough jostling of the bag wasn't helping matters either. If anything, it was exacerbating the issue. But so fraught with his anger and frustration, Jon noticed nothing as he fumed about the highway robbery that the manager had given him. The clerk wasn't of big help either.

Nor did he realize that he was being trailled by someone, someone who kept to the shadows, someone who has his scent. Had it memorized. He stalked and sneaked around every obstacle and hazard in his way, always keeping his reflective amber eyes on the source of the scent.

Suddenly, there was the sound of ripping. The Undetectable Extension Charm had failed and broke, its effects being cancelled out. As such, the tremendous amount of pilfered items came spillout of the backpack, tearing it to shreds.

The dress. Jewelry. Expensive coins. Expensive paintings. A Ming vase. And more, spilled onto the street. And all this happened in front of two police officers. Two police officers that happened to be well versed in the items stolen by Spellbinder. Spellbinder was still under the impression that he couldn't be arrested -- after all, he didn't steal the items. It wasn't his fault that they just gave him these items. Besides, he was disguised as Sven Galliano. His reputation as Jon Billings, as far as he was concerned, was fine. (Despite the fact that he was a no-call, no-show to his work as the school guidance counselor for several days.)

As he quickly tried to gather up his loot, further implicating himself in their theft. Jon was far too arrogant to even consider this as a possibility. He had gathered up what he could, only to be placed under arrest and read his Miranda rights.

Naturally, he struggled and resisted the arrest, but in the end, he was loaded up in the back of a police cruiser and en route to jail, as the stolen items were being taken into custody.

And Cloak and watched the whole thing.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Overlooked One Little Thing

The thing was Jon wasn't out of tricks. He had hidden enough tech inside his skinsuit to make another spellbinding unit. And he had managed to do that, after being handcuffed, was a feat in and of itself.

He had managed to orient it enough to activate it, and make the cops believe that they were inside a flooding temple of gold when the car stopped. It caused them to evacuate the car, onto what they believed to be a staircase. Then they proceeded to "go up the stairs" and opened a door, causing Jon to barrel out of the cruiser, and, with another flash he terminated the previous scenario for another one.

They were in vine-encrusted temple, much like the "temple" in "Legends of the Hidden Temple". They had to take a key -- which was like a nerf dart only smaller, and put it into the lock to unlock the room with the artifact they were after.

But, in reality, they just unlocked Jon's handcuffs, which fell away, lonely and forgotten. The police officers didn't even realize -- and they were hit by a passing motorist -- they were in the middle of the street, after all. They, uh, did not survive this. And it wasn't because of the collision with the car. A double dose of the spellbinding tech had proven to be too much for their neural chemistry to handle adequately.

Jon Billings did not care. And he was back at large.

He quickly used his spellbinding tech to make him fundamentally invisible to all humans who could see him. He would have to get rid of this skinsuit. It was a liability. As far as they know, Sven Galliano was the thief, not Jon Billings. But he also had to destroy any DNA evidence withen the suit that might betray him.

He should just burn the damn thing. He never liked wearing it to begin with. Too tight, too constricting. The voice that it modulated when ever he wore it, Jon found too high and effeminate, but he hadn't any control over that. The skin suits aren't really all that customizable. It was also hell to put on, and only slightly less hell to slough off.

He returned to his apartment, still as Sven Galliano. His spellbinding tech making him fundamentally invisible. To humans. He cursed himself as why he didn't use this earlier, but that's neither here nor there now.

Once inside his home, and locked the door, he immediately deactivated his tech and immediately undressed. He quickly, and without hesitation, peeled himself out of "Sven". Then he immediately redressed, then he washed out completely the interior of the suit, making sure no DNA residue would give him away.

Then he proceeded to burn the damn suit, with no one the wiser.

***

Melissa was back in her own thread now, stroking the Nikki's ears, as the cat purred unabashedly. Nikki, being a cat, was always comfortable in her own skin, Melissa reflected. The young sorceress wondered why she could not be the same. She had found where she belonged -- she was the apprentice to the Sorcerer Supreme himself! Yet, something nagged at her, made her uncomfortable.

She thought about it and decided. She needed to tell the others about this abusive relationship she had with Jon Billings . . . maybe it would clear her conscious. Maybe it would take a load off her shoulders.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Disjointed Dreams

It was a few days after Cloak first became a RAFian. He was still closed up and guarded, as he always was before he mellowed. And that was back when he buried his emotions, back when he was afraid of his emotions, afraid of the true potential of both his powers and himself. Back when he thought very little of himself.

What he did not not know was that his elder sister, Faith, a vulpine-form Realm Walker, had followed him, to ensure that he was safe. She was always superior to their mother in this regard. Faith cared for her baby brother, and Cloak would have done anything to help her.

Upon seeing him with the RAFians, she held back. After seeing him interacting with them, she held back and smiled. She sang quietly:

"Brother, you're safe now,
And safe may you stay.
For I have a prayer just for you.
Grow, baby brother,
And remember this day,
And remember us, too."

And, with that, she left her brother to grow stronger. Stronger as a person, and a friend. He wasn't sure if this really happened though. Then he started to dreaming of something else, an old memory from before he even existed.

There were six really young Realm Walkers, all girls. A nightingale chick in a violet cloak, a meerkat juvenile in a green cloak, a sun bear cub in a blue cloak, a sloth juvenile in an orange cloak, a German Shepard pup in an indigo cloak, and a grizzly bear cub in a yellow cloak with a crimson hood.

The grizzly cub, the eldest of the lot, was talking. " -- And that's not even the worst part!"

Then inexplicable music started playing, and she started singing:

"This isn't like our backyard back home,
With slides and pools and things.
It's a creepy little Realm,
With big scary beings!!
Where mutant stalkers crawl around,
Chomping down on little kids.
And water wings can't save you
From the slimy Erised squids!!"

The four youngest, the third-eldest and down, swallowed this hook line and sinker, only the German Shepard pup, the second-eldest of these six sisters, seemed to see through the grizzly cub, as she wore an angry expression and folded arms.

The grizzly cub continued:

"That's why you need a princess --
Someone beautiful, hmm? Like me!
To save you from the scary paws
That grabs you from the trees!
So, if you don't want to end up
Being mutant stalker food,
Keep your Realm Princess
In a REALLY happy mood!!"

The German Shepard pup looked really disgruntled at this, but the grizzly cub continued her song:

"That means no blowing bubbles!
That means no tattletales!
That means no bugging me to show my royal bells! Ha!
Just do to the things I tell you,
Like bow when I walk by,
Listen when I speak to you,
But do not look me in the eye!"

The German Shepard pup defied this immediately, before adding in her own bit to the song:

"You're not some Realm Princess.
There's not a squishy stalker!
There are no mutant Dwellers
That would ever eat a Walker!"

She turned to her four younger sisters, and sang:

"Don't listen to her stories!
She always misbehaves.
She's trying to scare you guys
Into being her Realm slaves!"

The grizzly cub didn't take to this too kindly, and sang:

"Why do you have to be
So good, nice and cheeky?
Just face the facts,
That this Realm's I'm Princess Ursa-tiki!
So, if you don't want to end up
Being mutant stalker food,
Keep your Realm Princess
In a REALLY happy mood!!
Keep your Realm Princess
In a REALLY happy mood!!"

And it was at this point that Cloak woke up.


Source Songs: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=zCcycOLUcTk (2:39) and https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=qnaoe9RvP88

[Cloak]

New chapter.

BOOK CXXXV:
BAST-IC INSTINCT
CHAPTER ONE:
Strong in the Real Way and the Wrong Way

Cloak was meditating, and he found himself reminiscing. He remembered Wheeza when he was foolishly putting his.mother up on a pedestal. A pedestal that she never deserved, but that the then-Cloak was too naive about.

"Why do you have to look up to her
Aside from in a parent-child sense?
Don't you know that a powerlust that big
Comes with a bigger expense?
And can't you see that she's out of control
And imperious?
I'm telling you for your own good,
Just because its really serious.
I can show you how to be strong . . .
In the real way.
And I know that we can be strong
In the real way.
And I want to inspire you.
I want to be your rock,
And when I talk
It lights a fire in you."

Fast forward slightly, and Cloak was training a young Shadow in the elements. He sang:

"I can show you how to be strong . . .
In the real way.
And I know that we can be strong
In the real way.
And I want to inspire you.
I want to be your rock,
And when I talk,
It lights a fire in you.
I want to inspire you.
I want to be your rock,
And when I talk,
It lights a fire in you."

Suddenly, Cloak snapped his eyes open. He sensed something. Something rising. . . . Something . . . even more ancient than he.

***

"Well, the Xenocyte thing really petered out," Malice was saying in what appeared to be some sort of shadowy study. The only real light was from a small barrel-bodied lamp on the table. She templed her fingers as she spoke. "Pity, really. I honestly thought I'd get more . . . mileage . . . out of that scheme."

Her hands drummed on a device that was just tantalizingly out of the light.

"But, quite auspiciously, I have been given a little sumthin-sumthin to, heh, liven things up," she cackled.

The she looked over to the oblong device, and her tone took on a jeering tone.

"Too bad your big bwother can't see you anymore," she said, in that jeeringly mocking tone she had. "Especially after I -- heh -- 'megw evolved' him. But he proved useless to me. Now he's dead, and as he should be, for fsiling me. But, now . . . now your loyalty is to me. And me only. Isn't that right, poppets?"

She punctuated this was a malevolent cackle.


Source Song: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=UFctQMCs3k4

[theyoungphoenix]

oh boy. this sounds fun =d

also sorry for the no-show for a bit, i've been super busy with freshman stuff, and school starts tomorrow, so i probably won't be around then either

[Cloak]

I surmised as much, Abby.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWO:
Rise of the Cat Lady

Meanwhile, whilst Malice waited to implement her plan to slowly use the mostly male brethren of Maul, somewhere in Egypt a force began to stir. In an unseen pool of spiritual energy called by the Duat by the Egyptian pantheon, which crossed over from the layer called Everlost, which was -- well, more on that later on.

A lonely figure began to rise through the Duat. A figure with a voluptuous female form glided up through the Duat almost effortlessly, only stopping here and there when something caught her attention. But she was very keen on leaving. She had been stuck in the Duat for much too long now. Much too long. Five thousand years too long.

It wasn't as if she was bitter or anything.

. . . Okay, she was. She didn't want to go deep in the Duat, but she did as the Egyptian pantheon faded into obscurity. But surely, even after all this time, she would be remembered. Surely, she would not be forgotten.

She was Baset, goddess of love. She was Bastet, goddess of family. She was Baast, goddess of music. She was Ubaste, goddess of dance. She was Ailuros, goddess of protection and joy! She was Bast, the goddess of cats! She was all these things and all these names, and she was as fickle about them all as a cat would be.

As she rose through the Duat, she convinced herself that things wouldn't have changed much. After all, five thousand years wasn't such a long time, was it? It was just felt longer than it was, right?

She would have her feline followers attend her when she surfaced, when she was at last free from the Duat. Most of her pantheon would need hosts to become the Eye of their power, but this did not mean it was a mandatory thing. She didn't care about this. There was no threats to warrant such a need. She wanted to be her own woman, and her own god. She would not take a host -- it was just a way to subjugate worshippers, anyway. She didn't need that. She didn't want that. She just wanted to be free!

As she moved through the Duat, she felt herself tiring. She, like her feline followers, weren't big in the endurance department. But it's been so long . . . so long . . . since she's been free of the Duat, free from obscurity. She was eager to break out, break free. To see the Egyptian sands again, to breath the air once more, to touch the burning sands . . .

Okay, maybe not that last part so much. But she was almost there . . .

There! Her feline head broke out of the Duat, and the rest of her followed -- it was almost like an immaculate birth. She had spent and exhausted her energy, just giving herself a materialistic form -- more often, in ancient times, they in her pantheon would be lazy and just take preexisting materialistic forms, sometimes dominating them, others being dominated by the more willful.

As she looked around, she discovered, much to her dismay, that things had indeed changed over the millennia. . . .

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER THREE:
Of Course!

"Ah, after five thousand years, I'm free!" Bast said. "It's time to conquer RAF!"

Meanwhile, back at RAF, Richard spoke, "Phoenix, Bast has escaped. Assemble five RAFians with attitude!"

GH, Parker, Saffa, Faerie,  and Abby were chosen at random.

Go, go, RAFian Rangers!
Go, go, RAFian Rangers!
Go, go, RAFian Rangers!
You Mightily Insane RAFian Rangers!"

"Wait -- why am I the PINK RAFian Ranger?!" GH demanded.

Go, go, RAFian Rangers!
Go, go, RAFian Rangers!
Go, go, RAFian Rangers!
You Mightily Insane RAFian Rangers!"

"I'm serious!!" GH protested, as the vision was coming to a close. He was heard to say, "Oh, c'mon!", as it ended.

Cloak smirked a bit at the humor in it, but was left a bit puzzled. Who was Bast? Why did that name sound so familiar to him?

***

But it was true, that Bast had been freed from the Duat. And she had not been lazy and simply taken a host like a parasite, like some of her brethren would have been quick to do.

She crafted herself a material body from the same substance of the Duat itself. She was a tall, stately, austere woman wearing the traditional garb of the higher echelons of Ancient Egyptian society, with a feline head.

Her head was like that of a blue-point Siamese, instead of something more local, like an Abyssinian or something. Or it could be that her feline head reflected the breed of cat that the viewer had the strongest connections to.

She was looking around, not too sure she at all liked these new things. This technology, and tall square buildings that looked a little too plain and dull for her liking. These modern conveyances, these automobiles, they were to obnoxiously loud or unnaturally quiet. She didn't like them. And these strange glowing tablets? Too much had changed from what she known.

These humans had also lost their respect for their cats. She heard many of their stories, and some of them were utter horror stories. Even one becoming something called a red lantern. It was an odd, foreign term to her.

But, in the end she sensed something. Something overseas. Something she would have to investigate for herself. But first, she changed her garb into that of a modern catsuit. This, however, she liked.

But she would have to get over there . . . where the . . . the . . . the whatever was . . .


Source Song: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FpcCoW5gA7w (obviously).

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR:
She Comes

Cloak looked around, and saw that he seemed to be in some abandoned construction site, with decrepit old buildings -- most of which were just standing walls at this point -- with an odd mist hanging around, giving the whole place a creepy, "Dead By Daylight"-type vibe.

Cloak was sure that this was a dream, and apparently a lucid one at that. But why the landscape for the horror genre? He couldn't even change it or direct this obvious dream in any way or manner. This was odd, and Cloak couldn't help but wonder if this was just some trick of Aniyu's.

"I come," said a female voice, sounding rather plaintive, as Cloak discovered a silver statuette of a "Lugarugan", an amber statuette of a Liepard, and a bamboo statuette of a Pangoro. He cast them aside as unimportant. "I come."

"What the --" Cloak said, as he tripped over a copper statuette of a Talonflame, a granite statuette of a Gogoat, and an iron statuette of a Piloswine. Cloak declined to comment on this due sheer, unadulterated embarrassment. He wouldn't be boasting about this.

"I call out to you, my children," she said, giving distinct Madre de Vampyra vibes. Cloak absently scattered a slate statuette of a Donphan, a coral statuette of an Octillery, and a marble statuette of a Swanna. "You Matron calls for you."

"I don't HAVE a Gateburst matron," Cloak said, irritated, wishing to away now, as he stepped painfully upon a jade statuette of an Arbok, an obsidian statuette of a Slaking, and a bronze statuette of a Braviary. "Now, go away."

"I come," she said, as Cloak angrily kicked a platinum statuette of Xerneas. He was having none of this talk. "I come to you, my children."

Cloak felt the weaker part of his mind start to sway to this, but he clamped down on that part willfully, crushing the gold statuette of Pyroar that he was holding. Crushed it, as he heard her cry out plaintively, "Come to me, my hearts, my children. Come to me!"

Cloak felt the desire to go, but he obstinately refused, as he accidentally shattered a crystal statuette of a Beartic. He was a Realm Walker! He wouldn't be taken in so easily. Realm Walkers come and go at their slightest whim! Realm Walkers cannot be manipulated so effortlessly. He was quite literally impossible to be controlled involuntarily.

Although, his mother Ursa proved that it was quite possible to happen if the Realm Walker in question doesn't resist. But Cloak would resist this call, this summoning to arms. He would not only resist, but completely throw of this, like an Imperius Curse! This was nothing to him. Nothing.

He would not be controlled. Never again. Never.

[theyoungphoenix]

oooh snap. this could have some bad consequences... if this is affecting Cloak so hard, then it's probably even worse to the other feline RAFians...

[Cloak]

It's a can of worms, for sure.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIVE:
Come, Little Kitties

Cloak was quite sure that he was quite awake now. For the longest time, he only feared his mother. Now, though he could scarcely believe it, there might have been a contender. This Bast person.

Never before had he felt such a compulsion, though he resisted it successfully. He could be wily and willful when it came down to it, and the fact that this Bast person managed to infiltrate his mind like that . . . to persuade him with such adroit skill . . . it was frightening to the Elements Master.

He imagined that this must have have been what a victim of the Imperius Curse must have felt like. He would not know, not really. That Curse cannot affect him. And neither, by all means, should this Bast person. Realm Walkers are immune from Realm Dweller mind control. Immune from Realm Dweller possession. Immune from Realm Dweller chemical seduction.

Granted, they were not above being manipulated, but it would take a being of extraordinary cunning and prodigious oratory skill to accomplish something like that. He had yet to meet a Dweller with such a capability, especially from his shrewd and jaded mindset. It was possible that she was a Realm Walker, he supposed. A Realm Walker that settled into this Realm, much like he himself (and, presumably, Malice, as well) did.

Or she could just be a force stronger -- no. No, that's ridiculous. Realm Walkers were the first species, sentient or otherwise. They were born from the ambient energy that existed in existence's infancy. They eventually took corporeal form when they achieved sentience. The Black Mercy came later, but it was thoroughly nonsentient.

Cloak just didn't know what to make of this. And this alone was enough to cause a chill to creep up his spine. Whoever or whatever this Bast was, she was doing things she should not be, by all rules of logic, be able to do.

Cloak's ears twitched suddenly as he heard:

Come, little kitties, I'll take thee away --"

It wasn't a voice singing, neither was it thought-speak. Cloak didn't know what the Veil it was, but he didn't like it. The -- for lack of a more applicable term -- voice was haunting in a way, but enigmatic and beseeching as well. It almost sounded very earnest, like she really --

No! No! Cloak scolded himself. He was allowing the entrancing "voice", if you could really call it that, to draw him to it. Keep your lucidity, Cloak. Ignore it. It is nothing. Just annoying ambiance.

He pressed his hands over his ears in a vain attempt to drown this out. Repeating that the "voice" was nothing to him. That it meant nothing. That it wasn't even real. . . .

"-- From the land of disenfranchisement."

It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. It was entirely imagined. It had to be.

"I am --" Cloak spoke his real name, which was unpronounceable to Dweller tongues. He was speaking in effort to drown out whatever that "voice" or whatever was. "I am Cloak. I am the son of Ursa and Brute. Grandson of Master Sage. Descendant of Master Avatar and Benign. Descendant of Aniyu. Brother of Faith and Dagger. Uncle of Shadow. Friend of many, foe of many."

Cloak was finding this not working and that part of him, the weakest bits, wanted to go to this singing "voice", wanted to do so badly. But his will, his heart, and his mind would not allow it. This actually caused his Mark to appear more pronounced, but he himself did not notice this.

"Come, little kitties, the time's come to play."

"I am a RAFian." Cloak said, almost as if he was reminding himself of the fact. "I am a RAFian! I'm a RAFian!!"

The repetition seemed to help. And, where Cloak sat, those were words of strength and power. It made him feel solidarity and unity with his fellow RAFians. But whatever this voice was, if was insidiously infectious, like a catchy song.

Cloak found himself saying something completely different.

"To protect the world from persistent blight," he said, between breaths, "no malevolence shall escape my sight."

"Here in my garden of magic.

"Let those who revel in tyrannical might," Cloak said, "Fear our power . . . RAF Unity's light!!"

He discharged some golden-scarlet energy with that last outburst, but the voice, or whatever it was, was gone. Silenced. Whether it was because it was on the voice's terms or Cloak's was unclear.


*Source Song: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=gEYgyWC_BpM

[theyoungphoenix]

oohhhh crap. this is way worse than i originally thought...