Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

New chapter.

BOOK CLX:
MOONSCAR MENACE
CHAPTER ONE:
Mister, FREEZE!

Xeno was dispatched to this icy tundra. He wasn't too pleased. Wouldn't a RAFian like Horse be far more suited for such an environment? She's a seal, after all! Why him?

Anyway, he proceeded forward, ignoring an ornery polar bear that was in his path. He simply flew over the beast who looked like he was in no mood for interruptions, and entered a large, but icy, cave.

He climbed upward, into what he assumed was further into the cave. He really was finding the slick ice rather cumbersome. But, as it turned out, he climbed to the top of the cave, and to open tundra. He ruffled his wings and was thankful that the air was still.

Geez, was that the same polar bear? Go away, son, Xeno thought, I don't have time for you.

He proceeded onward . . . back into another entry into the icy cave, with a heavy sigh. Maybe it would be slightly warmer in there. He looked down up ahead and saw some tightly knitted stalagmites upon the ground actually encased in ice. He was sure that those would feel absolutely wonderful land on and get impaled upon. He just simplified matters and flew over them.

That done with, he climbed up, further into the cave, he once again assumed. This time he was right, and he didn't like what he saw. Crumbling ice and more ice-encrusted stalagmites. Again, he just simplified things by just flying over them.

Then he came to a split in the path. He could take a crumbling ice bridge and go upwards, or climb down. He hadn't a clue which was the right way or which one was the truly easier way -- then he thought he heard something from the path above . . .

"Let it go, let it go --!"

Okay, down it was. And he climbed down for a while before he could move onward. When he did, he came to a wide room with really deep chasms, bearing a superficial appearance to severely chapped lips. All easily flown over.

Then he saw something that disquieted him as he climbed up higher. He saw a polar bear frozen in ice. Completely frozen. What happened . . . there wasn't anything he could do for him right now. He had an objective to complete, as he hauled himself once again out of the icy cave.

There were a few more chasms dotted here and there -- but, again, all easily flown over, so it wasn't a big deal. Until he came back to another icy cave, but this one was different. This was the one the fiend had made its den, its nest.

The creature was about as tall as a teenager with slanted, human-like eyes (dark orange sclera and black irises) which gave the impression that it was always  miffed about something. Its face was light gray with a small mouth and nose. It had ice crystal "horns" for ears. Its cranium was composed of a multifaceted ice ball, as were its shoulders. The crest on its forehead was gold in color. Its neck was white, ending in a purple ring around its collar. It had a yellow chest and crotch with a deep green orb basically lodged in its abdomen, and a dark orange vertical stripe on its back. Its upper arms were white while its lower arms were yellow and its left on had a growth where it could form, cryokinetically, snowflake-designed discuses. Its thighs were white, terminating in a purple streak that began at its knees and extended down the back of its legs. It's shins were black and everything that wasn't purple or black was yellow. It had sharp, multifaceted ice "horns" on its knees, and its feet were nothing but pointed, multifaceted ice.

When it saw Xeno, it did not attack. It stared him down and taunted him to make the first move. Xeno flapped his wings, offering him some lift, causing the fiend to run at Xeno. Which the RAFian glided to avoid this, as the fiend began its attack pattern.

It fired a a frozen snowflake-themed discus at Xeno, who rolled out of the way. His wings were more durable than a bird's, so they were fine. It jumped and fired another one to freeze Xeno to the ground. But Xeno can fly. So he dodged this attack.

Then it summoned icicles on the ceiling, causing Xeno to think, Oh, wonderful. Then it repeated its attack pattern, before the icicles fell to the ground. Xeno deftly moved out the way. Xeno punched with his gauntlets, which locked it into a simple pattern. Seven punches and the fiend was dealt with.

Now, Xeno had to wait for extraction back to the forum . . .

***

Demos called it a "furizusapien", and claimed he designed it as a way to gain non-polluting energy, but it was a failure, and just redesigned it for combat instead.

***

And Malice as still sleeping. So, she did not see this fight whatsoever, despite releasing the furizusapien.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWO:
Gift of Appearance

Leatherhead, despite his young age of six, had had enough of the ID mask, which was clearly intended for beings of more humanoid proportions. He refused to wear it again. He didn't care that he wouldn't pass for a human. He was too young to understand the hatred from groups like the Knights -- and the Knights weren't the only xenophobic, bigoted groups, just the most prominent and expansive. He was too young to understand what they'd do to him had they ever found him and captured him.

GH didn't know specifics, granted, but he had a general idea. And the idea terrified him. Now, Leatherhead might not be his son biologically, but his love for the crocodile mutate was as deep as if he was. Theirs was still the dynamic of a father and son.

But nothing GH said to try and coax and cajole LH would make him budge. He was certainly as stubborn as GH was. Even to the point that this whole thing was making GH want a cigarette -- despite having more or less successfully quit, because he didn't want LH to be inhaling secondhand smoke.

Dek had come up with a solution, upon inspiration of Pik, his wife. He hoped this would make amends with GH and thank Leatherhead, who helped teach his children -- Jok, Nak, and Juk -- to speak English without the use of a translator, granted with strong Zirkonian accents.

He managed to make a human suit -- he did not turn anyone into one, however, like the ones that were on the black market. It was a perfect replication of the form his ID mask projected -- a skin tone and hair style that matched GH, a pointed chin, curly hair that was somewhere between red and brown, and green eyes. Dek presented to Leatherhead, under GH's watchful eye. GH's animosity and enmity towards Dek had already quite evaporated, as he had moved on from Andy, who apparently never knew about GH's crush on him, and who he fell out of communication with. He always changed the subject when it was approached, and most of the other RAFians knew how to take a clue (there was at least one who didn't).

Anyway, Leatherhead loved the suit even before he put it on. Dek described its properties to Leatherhead, who wasn't really paying attention in his excitement to  pull it on. Apparently, even if its torn off, it will just retreat into a special watch device (which was waterproof and actually told the time, depending on the planet in which it was on) and he could just tap a button when its green for the human suit to have been repaired. It would be red when it wasn't. Dek also detailed how the suit contained a compression field that would allow Leatherhead to have the appropriate proportions of a human boy his age, and the suit would grow with him. If he wore it regularly and he grew to a teenager, the suit would reflect that. Dek implied he used unstable molecules to achieve such an effect.

However, clothing was still an issue, as the suit only came with a white shirt and white boxer-briefs attached. Leatherhead, who remained . . . unclothed as his crocodilian self (not unlike the TMNT), didn't have many clothes in his closet (yes, he had a separate closet from GH -- its just how the threads worked when a new occupant moves in). GH had anticipated this, and gave him a black shirt (with a favorite band of his emblazoned on it, which he and his adoptive son would rock out to sometimes between GH's civilian job and RAFian missions), a brown jacket with a picture of Scooby Doo emblazoned on the left side, brown slacks, socks, and shoes.

Leatherhead quickly put all these on, quite excited, as only a six-year-old could be. It was rather akin to playing dress-up. He did not know the implications of having to hide away his true self just so he was safe from raving, xenophobic bigots. GH put on a happy face as he thought of this.

His adoptive son would have to hide who he really was, to keep himself safe. It was like staying in the closet for fear of losing people they cared about -- just because being attracted to someone that was not socially acceptable to be attracted to . . . and now Leatherhead had to hide away his more overt inhuman-ness, just so some bigot who cannot handle someone different could feel unoffended.

GH hated this, but Leatherhead remained ignorant of this, as he examined his arms and hands, touched his face with a big smile on his face. A smile GH recognized as similar to his own. Perhaps it was bad parenting to shelter Leatherhead from this, from all the hate towards anything different in the world.

But it was something he had to do, he felt. . . .

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER THREE:
Anxiety and a Mission

Leatherhead deftly cajoled GH if they could "go get McDonald's". GH knew LH's ulterior motives. The local fast food joint (which wasn't McDonald's, but Leatherhead called all fast food places that, having never been corrected before) had an outdoor playground, and it was not yet too cold out for it. He wanted to go and play on that playground in his new suit, knowing that no one would know that he was not human.

GH tried to hide his reluctance at this idea. Inside his human suit, Leatherhead was able to give GH far more convincing puppy dog eyes, with a slight pouting lip. Dammit, that made it even harder to refuse the boy. Dek really did too accurate and realistic work.

"Now, LH," GH said, with hesitation and trepidation, "I know you're excited about your knew suit, but I don't -- now, look at me like that!"

Leatherhead's pout deepened. Funny how young children try these subtle ways to manipulate their parents or guardians. Well, the smarter and more intuitive ones, anyway.

"Let him have some fun, GH," Saffa teased. She had approached him, and saw his human suit, with Duff and Gaz behind her.

"We'll even go along, if you want," Gaz offered. She needed a bit of a break her current civilian job search. Sometimes a RAFian needed a simple, ordinary grind to get grounded from the sheer surreal and weirdness that a RAFian life entailed. "You don't have go alone."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeease, Daddy?" Leatherhead said, deliberately drawing out the first word, begging.

GH sighed, and relented, "Oh, okay. But, Leatherhead," and the boy paid attention as if GH used his middle name, "take it easy on that suit. Let's just not try to destroy it as you just got it."

***

GH's anxiety did not abet when he watched Leatherhead play in the ball pit thing. The suit was holding up remarkably well thus far, but GH still worried. He had barely touched his burger, which was rapidly becoming cold and soggy, and he found himself instinctively practicing the fingering for the notes on his guitar. He had set it right next to LH's keytar -- never knew when they might need them in their battle axe or halbried forms. But GH still believed that Leatherhead was not only too young for any serious, scarring battle, but too inexperienced and ill-prepared.

"Relax, GH," Duff said, gregariously, "everything will be fine."

"You can't know that for sure, Duff," the music connoisseur contested anxiously. He was keeping a sharp eye on Leatherhead, who, despite looking like a human six-year-old, was laying in the ball pit like an alligator in a swamp. He had a huge smile plastered on his face -- he was having a ball. "Any number of things could go wrong."

"Or everything could be alright," Gaz countered, bracingly. "Try focusing on the positives instead of the negatives."

 GH didn't respond, his eyes locked on Leatherhead, ready to pull him out the moment the suit would dare to tear or something like that.

"Excuse me," said a voice behind them, "but are you RAFians?"

It was from a woman who would be considered attractive by human standards. She had buck of thick, wavy black hair, gray eyes, and was about a hair shorter than Duff. She wore a forest green bandanna, forest green vest, and light orange dress that looked rather outdated.

"Sorry to interrupt," she apologized. She seemed genuinely contrite, and only GH didn't look at her, but was watching LH pretty much act like a alligator in the ball pit. He hoped that an outsider would just see a six-year-old human playing, pretending to be one, instead of guessing the truth. "My name is Elena Dubbelhartiger --"

"Dubbelhartiger?" Duff inquired.

"Yes, it's Dutch," she said. Then she cut to the point, rather suspiciously quick. "I have come here on the behalf of my employer, Simone Fourbe. Our island is apparently inundated with monstrous zombies. I have come for help. There are no working phone lines on the island. Please -- we need your help."

This seemed a perfectly normal request. But the RAFians found it a bit suspicious, but said nothing about it. They looked at each other -- GH sighed. It looks like Leatherhead may have his first mission after all. GH still thought he was too young, but apparently they would have to leave right away.

"LH!" GH called. "It's time to go!"

[Cloak]

Lot of Leatherhead-GH development in this book. I must admit -- it wasn't originally in my outline. Actually -- I don't think Leatherhead was even a character yet (considering I created him on the fly) when I planned out this book. Huh. Interesting.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR:
En Route

All five were on a ferry to the island, and Leatherhead was excited. His first mission! He was like a grown-up now! And he was still wearing his suit, naturally enough. He was still having a ball, despite knowing that what he was heading into was potentially dangerous, he didn't really understand the ramifications of it. It was his first real mission! And it was, in LH's mind, it was because he got this human suit. This suit had opened all sorts of doors for him now, the six-year-old felt. He didn't realize this darker implications of having to hide himself away from the world, and showing the world a face they found superficially acceptable.

GH was not thrilled about bringing LH along -- he scolded himself constantly in his head for doing it. He's too young. He's too inexperienced. He's not ready. He's ill-prepared. He's too naive. He wouldn't survive the type of mission that they had to go on regularly. This could scar him for life. This could ruin his childhood, assuming he survives.

Yet, another part of him argued back, as they got onboard the ferry with the gregarious Cajun ferryman, that this was just a simple case. A simple haunted house . . . with zombies. It could just be a gag to get them to endorse tourism to their island, this Moonscar Island. Doesn't mean it has to be all Walking Dead. Could just be Black Lanterns -- no, that wouldn't be better, he considered again. This could be a growth experience for the boy, help him come into his own, allow him to understand what it is that RAFians do. It could be a beneficial experience for the lad.

These warring opinions in GH's mind caused him to fall unusually quiet and moody, completely unnoticed by an enthralled Leatherhead. Leatherhead had quickly adjusted to moving without his large, encumbering tail , as the suit allowed him to look and move perfectly human, thanks to the compression tech that Dek installed. Allowing the youngster more freedom to move about -- something GH secretly found terrifying. More freedom meant that Leatherhead was also more free to find -- or cause -- more trouble.

The others seemed gregariously unconcerned about this or the mission they were currently embarking on. GH felt envious of their nonchalance and lack of anxiety. There was so much that could go wrong here, especially with his precocious son in tow.

GH hoped that this wasn't anywhere near the omega-level threats that they had to face in the past, like Garrotik, Galactron, and the Warworld, to name a few. Hopefully, this was just a procedural, paint-by-numbers sort of mission, then he wouldn't have to fret about LH's safety and rambunctious behavior. That suit really had emboldened him to an alarming degree . . .

Meanwhile, Duff was talking to the ferryman, Jacob Kharon. He was an older man with a stocky frame and a bushy white mustache. He wore a shirt that looked rather like an Incineroar's torso with khaki slacks. He also wore a floppy hat that Leatherhead pointed out looked like a lampshade. Jacob ignored this precocious pronouncement, as GH had to rein in LH a bit. The youngster was allow his excitement get the better of him.

And, yet, the ferryman, this Jacob Kharon gave GH the . . . the heebie-jeebies, and he could understand why. That cantankerous local looking for that big catfish he called "Big Kandy" (which did sound rather comical aloud) was understandable, but the ferryman seemed affable and friendly enough . . . but GH couldn't put his finger on why he unnerved him so much.

Then he considered something that cast that out of his mind. He wondered if he was giving Leatherhead, or if he himself had a factitious disorder -- before immediately deeming it stupid. He had no interest in being a patient to garner attention. But he did worry about things that he never worried about before Leatherhead was in his life, about the boy himself.

Perhaps he was overprotective? Was he too neglectful? Its a very difficult balance to try and straddle. Allowing your child sufficient autonomy without being neglectful, and being present in their lives enough with out being invasive and overbearing. A very tough balance to achieve.

GH felt an hand on his left shoulder, and saw Saffa give him a small smile. They had arrived, and LH came running up to them, and GH had a strange flashback of himself moving like that when he, himself, was Leatherhead's age. The music connoisseur managed a smile, at this.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIVE:
Peppers, the Manor, You Know

"Don't go too far ahead, LH!" GH said, as the boy ran through the pepper plantation before the manor. Elena was leading the way -- and they saw no zombies of any sort.

"Relax, Logan, he's fine." Saffa said, amicably, in a rather sisterly manner. When he didn't reply, she took note of his anxiety. "I know you worry -- all parents do."

"You don't have kids," GH said, rather more rudely than he had intended.

"True," Saffa said. If she only cared about winning the argument, she could have mentioned that Leatherhead wasn't technically his, but no one in RAF thought that really. Though they may not have been blood, that did not mean that Leatherhead wasn't GH's son, despite the guitarist's relatively young age himself. "But I have parents -- which I understand isn't the same thing -- and I've seen them worry. Perhaps a tad too much."

GH said nothing, his eyes locked on Leatherhead. Part of him wished that Dek never gave him that suit -- but then again, look how free and without a care he was. He didn't have to worry about being seen -- and judged -- by people before they came to know him. They would see him as the child he was and not as a monster from a crappy B-movie from the thirties.

The quartet, lead by Elena, came upon the large manor. It was rather more opulent and flashy than any of the RAFians liked. Leatherhead was impressed, but quickly lost interest in it, turning it instead to the peppers growing along the path. The manor was at least three stories tall and perfectly rectangular. Some of the metal had tarnished, but no one commented upon it. The manor was like the Biltmore House, only in white marble and blue trim. It was actually a tad more compact and compressed than the Biltmore House, probably due to the island not being all that big.

Considering the entire forum consisted of several buildings and was more like a college campus than a manor, everyone (except Leatherhead who didn't know any better) felt that the manor was needlessly ostentatious. As if the person who built it wanted to desperately flaunt their wealth with lavish excess and expensive materials. The manor building itself had to have been at least 126 years old, give or take.

Elena took them inside, and the decor was like the exterior -- it wanted to basically beat you over the head saying "I'm rich! I'm rich!" in not so subtle terms. They stood in a grand atrium, with a sloping staircase curling away from them at their left about at eight, nine o'clock. A glass case of some artifact on a pedestal right next to it, a door straight ahead and to the right. The opulence was really shoved in their faces, in such a way that the RAFians couldn't help but find it distasteful.

Elena lead them through the doorway on the right, where was clearly the dining hall of the facility. There stood a tall woman -- a full head taller than GH, and GH was not a short man. She had a superficial resemblance to Elsa from "Frozen" except with a flatter nose and her ears hidden completely by her hair. She wore a light orange dress -- like the sunset at dusk. This was presumably Simone Fourbe.

"Ms. Fourbe," Elena began, presenting them. "These are the RAFians we sought after."

"Odd," she said. Her voice bore a vague French accent, and her tone was imperious and disapproving, "I thought there was more than four. Unless the child counts as the fifth?"

"All of our other members are busy," Duff lied well. Truth was that the mods thought best only a small group be sent -- to verify the veracity of Elena's claims. Why that group had to include Leatherhead, GH didn't know. He was six, after all. He was much too young to be here . . . he was not mature enough to take on such a mission. He was not ready. GH wasn't ready.

But, insofar, it appeared the veracity of Elena's accounts were lacking. They hadn't seen a single zombie yet after stepping foot on the island. GH was expecting a total "Walking Dead" type of scenario, but nothing. Still, he drew Leatherhead in close. The boy allowed it because the woman, this Simone character, freaked him out -- though he didn't know why. Perhaps it was because of her flagrant pedophobic attitude.

Gaz noticed this too, and secretly wondered if the two women had an ulterior motive for bringing them here under false pretenses. They would just have to wait and see how this played out. They've gotten out stickier situations before -- so nothing these two women did could possibly keep a RAFian from leaving of their own accord. . . .

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIX:
Blown Up

"Is that so?" Simone asked, rather more frostily then the occasion deserved. "So, Elena, it would seem that we aren't a priority."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Fourbe," was Elena's only reply. "But four RAFians --"

"-- and the child --" Simone said, unnecessarily harsh. GH was starting to feel aggrieved.

"And the child," Elena amended hastily, "are better than nothing. Isn't it, Ms. Fourbe?"

"I suppose," she said, with imperial disdain. The RAFians as a whole were really starting to dislike this woman. She seemed to be very unpleasant to be around, much less work for. Cold and unforgiving, like a barren wasteland. "But they better be of use when the zombique attack once more."

"Why don't they attack during daylight hours?" Saffa said, on an educated guess.

"Why should I know?" Simone said, with clear contempt. "You're the ones that are supposed to be experts in such a field. I have never claimed to be."

Saffa bit back a scathing response, and said, instead, "What information can give us?"

Simone's response was derisive, "I was given the impression that you were good at this. But, very well, then."

It was rather presumptuous of her to assume that the RAFians knew everything that was going on without anything to go on. They were RAFians, not clairvoyants. The four RAFians bit their tongues. Leatherhead picked up on this, but found Simone scary.

"All we know is they come from the bayou," she said, voice heavy with conceit. "They come and disappear at first light."

Almost sounded like zombies in "Minecraft".

"Well, what are you lot waiting for?" Simone said, with a snap in her voice. "Go to the bayou and stop these pests!"

"Hey, lady, we don't work for you," GH said, unable to help himself and before the others could calm him. "We are not getting paid by you. We are not your employees. You can't treat us like sh-- er, crap and just expect us to say nothing and meekly comply to your demands. We don't have to even be here. We don't HAVE to help you out. And with your little attitude, lady, it's little wonder why you still have this problem to deal with. So, don't give us orders as if you have power over us, lady. We could just as soon choose to leave you to deal with this problem by yourself. Don't order us around."

With that, GH chivvied Leatherhead out of the manor, still irritated and angry at this pretentious piece of work. The audacity she had! She actually had the temerity, the effrontery to presume that she could treat them with the same detached disdain and cold contempt that she treated all her employees with. She had the impudence, the gall to assume that he and the others would submissively acquiesce to her will, as if they were a mere extension of her limbs.

And her attitude towards Leatherhead! That was totally uncalled for, as far as GH was concerned. Her pedophobic behavior -- her irrational dislike for children -- was disgusting. Saffa didn't like kids too much, but she never acted so . . . so . . .

"Are you okay, Daddy?"

GH didn't answer at first, before saying, with a forced smile, "It's okay, LH. Don't worry about it."

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Into the Bayou

"That might come back to bite us in the butt," Duff said. He wasn't being accusatory, but a mere statement of possibility.

"I don't care," GH said, mulishly. "Where does she get off barking orders at us, like we're her servants? I meant what I said, and, furthermore, I stand by what I said. She's not paying us, and we are not in her employ. We are not obligated to follow what she wants."

They ventured further into the bayou, and Leatherhead felt strangely more comfortable. Might've be his crocodilian side, might've been being a good distance away from that pretentious Fourbe lady. GH found his dislike of that woman extending to Elena as well, as who could willingly work for such a woman? She showed no signs of disliking her work . . . there was probably a deeper reason for her employment to such a vile, unlikable woman. Something that they were not privy to.

Never mind. It was superfluous.

The swampy bayou was actually more welcoming than the ice queen in the manor over there. Granted, the bugs left a lot to be desired. Only Gaz and Leatherhead seemed completely unbothered by the biting insects, presumably by virtue of being a vampire, and having crocodilian scales.

They caught sight of of that crusty local, Mark "Snakebite" Boot, was fighting with the biggest, ugliest catfish GH had ever seen. "Big Kandy" he supposed. But the fishing line snapped, and the catfish escaped into the murky depths. Snakebite hurled a bunch of expletives at this.

"LH, do not repeat anything you hear that man saying," GH said.

"Why?" he asked.

"They're a lot of bad words," Saffa supplied. "Though, none too creative."

They moved on, and GH's anger began to evaporate. He actually began to relax. Granted, the large biting bugs were irritating, but better then the company of the ice queen. The sun was setting, making entire bayou awash in orange light as the sun began its daily descent over the horizon.

"The sunset's nice, though," Gaz remarked.

"Pretty," Leatherhead agreed.

Within moments, the sun slunk beneath the horizon, providing an inky blackness with the first stars coming out to twinkle in the night sky. The moon was only half full, but provided plenty of moonlight on this night.

"Still no zombies," Duff said. "Not even a Black Lantern."

"The only just set," Saffa said, reasonably. "Be patient."

"I dunno, Saffa," Duff said, slapping a mosquito on his neck. "This whole thing screams 'setup' to me."

"You mean Elena and the ice queen?" GH said, scorn in his voice.

"I mean someone," he said. "I dunno who, exactly. This mission just feels . . . artificial, somehow. Like the zombies are meant to be some kind of Scooby Doo distraction. Sleight of hand."

"How exactly?" Saffa inquired.

Duff never got to answer her -- a glowing green light had arched over them and into the bayou water.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHT:
RAFian Time

The light crackled before it disappeared. But it soon became obvious what that light did -- as the rotting, decomposing bodies in tattered, mildewed, and discolored clothing rose from the bayou water. One was once clearly an once-overwieght stereotypical tourist, with several in pirate or solider garb. There were more styles of clothing that were of indeterminate time periods.

Zombies.

Leatherhead immediately recoiled from the bayou and retreated to GH's arms. He was terrified.

"You hear the screeching of an owl,
You hear the wind begin to howl --
You know there's zombies on the prowl!
And it's RAFian time again.
They've gotta run though the night,
It's RAFian time again.
And you just might die from the sight,
It's a terrifying time."

GH was singing. Musicalizing this may seemed to be of poor taste and unhelpful, but it always helped Leatherhead to calm down and feel reassured, as funny as that may sound.

Meanwhile, Saffa, Gaz, and Duff prepared to fight the zombies, like back when they fought Black Lanterns.

"You hear the beating of your heart,
You know the mission's gonna start.
Here comes the really scary part,
'Cause it's RAFian time again.
They've gotta run through the night,
It's RAFian time again.
Oh, you just might sigh on sight,
It's a terrifying time."

As the zombies shambled closer . . . something was off. Something felt . . . odd.

"Is it me," Gaz said, perplexed, "or do these zombies not feel . . . malicious? Like at all?"

"All the trees begin to moan,
And the RAFians grunt and groan,
Far from a situation that's sublime,
Don't you know it's RAFian time?"

"But when's the last time zombies were good guys?" Duff asked.

"You could make that argument against vampires," Gaz said, speaking as a vampire.

"And it's RAFian time again,
They've gotta run through the night,
Yes, it's RAFian time again.
Oh, you just might sigh on sight,
It's a terrifying time!"

"It looks like they're trying to tell us something," Saffa said.

"But what? I don't speak zombie," Gaz said.

"I think, one way or another, we'll find out," Duff intoned darkly.


SOURCE SONG: https://youtube.com/watch?v=67dVpgUry7Q

[DinosaurNothlit]

I'm finally caught up again! 

Loved the past few stories.  Took me a while (as in, probably longer than it should have) on the pearls one, to realize that those of us affected were turning into Disney princesses.  But I thought that was a nice touch.  I was Mulan, right?  Too bad I probably didn't get to keep any of the swordsmanship (er, swordswomanship?) abilities, but I suppose I can't really hold a sword with my normal hands, anyway.    Also . . . it does occur to me that I don't remember anything of my life before becoming a nothlit . . . so how can I be sure that none of those memories were real?  It's admittedly unlikely that I was a Chinese warrior-princess, but you never know! 

The Cloak-dream-world chapters were beautifully inspiring.  :')  It's weird to see Cloak absent from the main plot for so many books in a row, though.  But I suppose that's to be expected after the exertion of keeping an entire planet rotating.  Oh man, I'm still laughing about what happened to the cat-planet because of that.    Wait, does that make me a bad person?  Laughing about dead kitties, yeah, that probably makes me a bad person. 

And, I have to admit, I'm still a little nervous about potential fallout from the killer produce episode . . . I mean, do you know how easy it would be for one person, while evacuating the city, to go 'I'm just gonna keep this one apple in my pocket for later, what harm could that do?'  I suppose it isn't like a killer apple could stay secret for long, so by now they'd probably know, but sometimes all it takes is ONE idiot to screw up an otherwise-brilliantly-laid-out plan.

Also, that book reminded me of an actual Balkan legend I once heard about, that any pumpkins or melons left unharvested for too long, in a full moon, would turn into vampiric produce.  Just looked it up to confirm, and found this gem of a quote from the wiki: "These pumpkins and melons go round the houses, stables, and rooms at night, all by themselves, and do harm to people. But it is thought that they cannot do great damage to folk, so people are not very afraid of this kind of vampire." 

As for the current book, I'm loving the character development for LH!  *hugs him*  It would be pretty wonderful if he could just go his whole life without knowing the real reason behind having to wear a human disguise, that humans can be such intolerant bigots.  That's an unfortunate truth that nobody should ever have to learn.  *sigh*  But I have a feeling that LH will learn it at the worst possible time.  *hugs him again*  Stay strong, little crocodile, and know that there are enough people who care about you to cancel out the gator-haters ten times over.

By the way, this plot-line seems very vaguely familiar.  I seem to remember a very old Scooby Doo movie (I think it might even have been the very first Scooby Doo movie) that went along these lines.  In any case, I don't remember enough about the movie for it to even constitute a spoiler.

[Cloak]

I'm finally caught up again! 

 

The Cloak-dream-world chapters were beautifully inspiring.  :')

Thank you. I wanted to show that one has to deal with one's own burdens and not put them off on others, and show that Aniyu was the only other Truth Dreamer. And Cloak's the only one whose both an Elements Master and a Truth Dreamer, a combination of these two ichor-lines.

It's weird to see Cloak absent from the main plot for so many books in a row, though.  But I suppose that's to be expected after the exertion of keeping an entire planet rotating.

Yes. Quite. Otherwise the apex tier might be just a tad OP without such an expensive cool-down time. Grant, Cloak is essentially one of the most powerful RAFians as it stands already . . .

Oh man, I'm still laughing about what happened to the cat-planet because of that.    Wait, does that make me a bad person?  Laughing about dead kitties, yeah, that probably makes me a bad person. 

Nah. They should have realized what they were in for. You can't really reap benefits without a cost or two somewhere down the line, and even the best laid plans aren't infallible.

And, I have to admit, I'm still a little nervous about potential fallout from the killer produce episode . . . I mean, do you know how easy it would be for one person, while evacuating the city, to go 'I'm just gonna keep this one apple in my pocket for later, what harm could that do?'  I suppose it isn't like a killer apple could stay secret for long, so by now they'd probably know, but sometimes all it takes is ONE idiot to screw up an otherwise-brilliantly-laid-out plan.

Not really really possible, as the infect produce turn nearly immediately, and anyone who tried that wouldn't have had a hand anymore. Think of it like a piranha apple.

Also, that book reminded me of an actual Balkan legend I once heard about, that any pumpkins or melons left unharvested for too long, in a full moon, would turn into vampiric produce.  Just looked it up to confirm, and found this gem of a quote from the wiki: "These pumpkins and melons go round the houses, stables, and rooms at night, all by themselves, and do harm to people. But it is thought that they cannot do great damage to folk, so people are not very afraid of this kind of vampire." 

Honestly did not know this. All I know is it was very loosely based on the concept of "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes" (which I thought I was being too obvious when using the theme song in the book, but, as it happens when I think (i.e. fear) I'm being too obvious, it turns out it's only obvious to me because I know what's going to happen).

As for the current book, I'm loving the character development for LH!  *hugs him*  It would be pretty wonderful if he could just go his whole life without knowing the real reason behind having to wear a human disguise, that humans can be such intolerant bigots.  That's an unfortunate truth that nobody should ever have to learn.  *sigh*  But I have a feeling that LH will learn it at the worst possible time.  *hugs him again*  Stay strong, little crocodile, and know that there are enough people who care about you to cancel out the gator-haters ten times over.

And, again, it wasn't in the outline. It just happened organically, because I knew I wanted to have GH and Leatherhead as part of the main group in this book.

By the way, this plot-line seems very vaguely familiar.  I seem to remember a very old Scooby Doo movie (I think it might even have been the very first Scooby Doo movie) that went along these lines.  In any case, I don't remember enough about the movie for it to even constitute a spoiler.

Um . . . this is another case like the killer produce book where I though I was being too obvious, especially with the song in the last chapter. I probably should stop thinking that way.

Anyway, I'm still working on Chapter Nine. Just got distracted with errands and shiny hunting.

[guitarhero01234]

So this is an instance where I can actually say you got distracted by a shiny thing?

[Cloak]

Only if I managed to find one -- and I haven't.

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINE:
Separation Situation

The zombies began to shamble closer and closer to the RAFians. Probably didn't help that "The Walking Dead" was on the night before, hence the RAFians reluctance to allow the creatures to touch them. Much less scratch or bite them.

Their animalistic groaning and almost menacing moaning flew in the face of any benign motivations they could possibly have. Even their slow, stilted, shambling movements were cause for intimidation, even amongst the RAFians. Almost as if it were deliberate.

The RAFians seemed to take this in stride, despite keeping their distance from the zombies in their assorted tattered clothing. But Leatherhead, however . . . Leatherhead was convulsing in terror. He was not accustomed to this level of threat -- GH had more or less protected him from these kind of missions. Sure, when he first mutated he took down that Furon savagely -- something he barely remembers, and he remembered nothing from the time before he was mutated -- but this was a whole new level.

Closer and closer they came. The terror was building up in the child, his human suit even horripilating -- GH had to note Dek's indescribable attention to detail. No six-year-old had ever dealt with this kind of thing before, or at least, none should. GH could feel him shiver, even though it was not remotely cold out on this full moon night -- wait, full moon? GH could have sworn it was only a half moon moments earlier.

GH's grasp of Leatherhead lightened, and poorly-timed low, threatening moan from a pirate zombie with a moon-shaped scar who was wielding a cutlass that looked oddly pristine and not rusted in the least, almost as if the metal was not iron but adamantium or something. But this was more than enough for poor little Leatherhead.

He broke free from GH's grasp as the latter gave a surprised gasp, not expecting this turn of events. Then the crocodilian in his human boy disguise fled into what appeared to be deeper into the bayou, but GH recognized it as a way to the docks. Leatherhead wanted to leave. He wanted to go home now.

"Leatherhead!" GH called after him. He wasted no time in hurtling himself after his adoptive son, his beloved guitar straddled to his back.

"We shouldn't split up!" Saffa said, but already the zombies had blocked their way. The group was now divided, and the zombies seemed unaware of really anything. They seemed to be barely sentient at times, then exhibiting some knowledge of their surroundings the other. "That's a horror movie cliche that ends up with people getting killed."

"This isn't a horror movie, though," Duff pointed out.

"Our lives are a horror movie," Gaz said, dryly.

Suddenly, they heard a scream from out towards the direction of the Fourbe estate.

"And that's Elena," Duff said. "Do you think she might be in legitimate danger, or that it's just some ruse?"

"I guess we'll find out either way," Gaz sighed as she began to head back to the mansion.

Duff and Saffa followed suit, with Duff remarking, "Sometimes having a conscience is a real pain in the butt."

"A RAFian's work is never done," Saffa said, with a heavy sigh.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TEN:
Something Off Here

The trio came out of the bayou into the pepper plantation of the estate. They quickly pushed through the pepper plants as they hurried to go to the mansion, where that icy, pedophobic witch dwelled. When they came to that mansion, the full moon loomed over the backside of it, as if the house was a couch it was hiding behind.

That only served to increase the ominous feelings of the trio, who cast each other looks that conveyed each's misgivings about this mission. It did not help to see the mansion in its entirety was dark, and devoid of light, as if it were abandoned to a horde of zombies -- and yet, the place was devoid of zombies, as if they were afraid to approach the place. As if the place had some sort of taint to it, imperceptible to the RAFians.

The trio scoured the house looking for the two, but it appeared to have been abandoned. No door was even locked. The bedrooms had their beds still made and no one was slumbering away in them. It was eerie -- as if all humans were erased from existence at this residence.

Duff decided to look upstairs, and started to walk up a grand staircase. Only for part of the staircase to fall downward, causing the RAFian to tumble down and land rather awkwardly in Elena's lap.

"Are you okay, Duff?" she asked. She sounded genuinely concerned, but Duff was uncomfortable as he wasn't attracted to her -- she wasn't his type, he guessed. He did not hesitate in righting himself and giving himself space between her and himself.

"Yeah. Yeah, just fine." was his only reply. His mind immediately flew towards why there was a secret staircase here, and just why Elena was down here. He didn't say his suspicions aloud, but not because it would be rude. He didn't want to alert Elena to them. However, when he met the eyes of the other two RAFians he could tell that they shared his suspicions. This made him feel better -- he wasn't just being paranoid.

"What's going on?" Gaz said. It was not easy to keep from sounding doubtful and suspicious of the woman. Their RAFian training had taught them how to identify such people, and, using her vampirically-enhanced olfactory sense, she could tell that Elena's blood smelled . . . off. Off in a way that Gaz couldn't quite explain to a satisfactory degree.

"It was a nightmare!" Elena said. "Ms. Fourbe and I went outside to wait for you, when we were attacked by zombies!"

Not one of the trio believed her, not really. But they were all curious of her endgame, if indeed, she was playing them.

"We ran back to the house," she said, evidently unaware that she wasn't really convincing the three, "and Ms. Fourbe opened this secret passageway. She said it was built during --"

The three RAFians cast furtive looks at each other as Elena launched into a brief explanation of the secret passageway. None of them were entirely buying this. But this could be because of that so-called Moonscar treasure that was rumored to be on this island. The RAFians had no interest in such things, so they paid it no mind when Jacob or someone was talking about it.

"-- But the zombies came after us!" Elena said, almost sounding on the verge of crying. Stupid compassion, Duff cursed to his heart, as he was beginning to soften -- she seemed so genuine about this . . .

While this happened, Saffa looked upon the sandy ground and saw the distinct impression of the soles of Elena's shoes, and the ball and hell print of high heel shoes. Simon Fourbe.

"They grabbed Ms. Fourbe and dragged her away!" she said, with a sobbing gasp. Now she was starting to be pretty damn convincing. "Oh, thank goodness you've come!"

Duff was somewhat convinced now, but Saffa frowned. If Simone Fourbe was dragged off . . . there was no indication in the sand. It looked as if she . . . as if she walked down the corridor herself.

"Alright," Saffa said, considering very quickly. There have been numerous disappearances on these islands over the years. Some power has been here and gone unchecked. "Let's go 'save' Simone, then."

Elena looked at Saffa, taking notice of her tone, and Saffa didn't flinch. She had fought far more fearsome beasts than a servant of a rich piece of --

They proceeded down the bricked walled corridor with a bare sandy floor. It seemed to take them about twenty minutes before they reached the exit. . . .

[DinosaurNothlit]

Oh man, I'm still laughing about what happened to the cat-planet because of that.    Wait, does that make me a bad person?  Laughing about dead kitties, yeah, that probably makes me a bad person. 

Nah. They should have realized what they were in for. You can't really reap benefits without a cost or two somewhere down the line, and even the best laid plans aren't infallible.

That's a good point.  But that assumes that ALL of the cats on that planet were on board with the whole 'stop-earth-spinning-and-kill-all-the-humans-to-save-ourselves' plan.  If that were true . . . if their leaders honestly informed every member of the population of the situation . . . every man, woman, and kitten . . . and the cats all rose up as one to give approval to that plan . . . and THEN their leaders managed to actually enact a solution that was thus unanimously approved by the people with fully-informed consent . . . then, wow, evil or not, I have MASSIVE respect for the sheer efficiency and coordination of their government.  Rest in peace, cat-planet.  *shines a laser pointer into the sky*

 . . . I always have to play devil's advocate, don't I? 

And in other news . . . the plot thickens! 

P.S. I caught my first shiny Pokemon in Pokemon Go!  A Duskull.

[Cloak]

True.

And I don't have Pokemon Go, as I don't have a smartphone. The phone I do have has sentimental value in it (my aunt Wheeza gave it to me the first Christmas after I was kicked out from my mom's house). But, in the main series games, I'm up to 127 Shinies. Newest one was a shiny Silvally, from the event.

Anyway, I'm working intermittently on Chapter Eleven. This book seems to be going by fast -- I may have to extend it past twenty chapters. But, as you know, it's not the first time I've done so, especially when I go "off-script" like this.

New chapter.

CHAPTER ELEVEN:
GH and LH Have a Moment

Leatherhead ran.

He knew to do nothing else. He ran and ran, as terror and panic gripped his heart, his mind, and his soul. He didn't want to be here anymore. He didn't want to be on this mission anymore. He didn't want to feel afraid anymore. He wanted to be safe.

This island wasn't safe. This mission wasn't safe. He wasn't safe. He could die. He didn't want to die. Those zombies would have hurt him. He didn't want to be hurt. He didn't like being hurt.

He slowed his run, his flight for a fraction of a moment to regard, with the limited clarity of a child. He left his daddy to die back there. If he was alive, then Leather felt as if he would be in so much trouble -- he had a chance to be a big boy, but he ran like a baby. He now experienced a deep feeling of guilt and shame. He still felt afraid, but now had shame and guilt mixed in, like some horrendous ****tail of bad feelings. He did not like these feelings, but he was too inexperienced due to his youth to know how to handle them properly.

He did the only logical a boy age and stress level knew how to do to cope -- he cried. The dock was well out of earshot, and only hidden from sight by a slight band of trees. Leatherhead couldn't take it anymore, and collapsed to his knees and just cried. He didn't remove his human suit, of course. It had become something rather like a security blanket for him.

Leatherhead was a mess. He did not know how to suss this emotional stuff out, and it confused and frustrated his young mind. He placed his hands on his head as if desiring to claw these bad feelings out of his mind. He just didn't like here . . . and he abandoned his daddy . . .  he . . . he was filled with so many conflicting emotions now, he . . . he didn't know . . .

"Leatherhead!"

Leatherhead jumped at the sound of this voice calling his name. He recoiled from the sound. He was going to be angry. Leatherhead was sure of it. He would be disappointed in him. He did not act like a big boy. He acted like baby. Part of him wanted to hide, part of him knew that that would just get him into more trouble. This internal quandary caused him to freeze.

"Leatherhead!!"

There was an edge of terror to GH's voice that had absolutely nothing to do with the zombies. It was a terror that only a parent or guardian of child would know. Images of their child lying dead with nothing they can do about it flood through their mind when their child goes missing like this . . . this is what truly caused the fear in GH.

"Leatherhead!!!"

GH was desperately trying not to panic. He was trying very hard. Then he found his adoptive son hiding seemingly amongst the low shrubs and trees. He was afraid that GH would be angry with him, but GH just scooped up the boy and embraced him, realizing after a few minutes just how scared he was. His arms was shaking.

But he was fine. His son was fine.

"D-daddy," Leatherhead said, sniffling. "I'm s-sorry. I . . . I shouldn't h-have ran away. I . . ."

"No, LH," GH said, gently. He adopted a kind, fatherly tone that he used whenever Leatherhead got scared like this. "The fault is mine, not yours. I suspected that there might be things like this, that things might escalate."

He touched his head with Leatherhead, and his son returned to the gesture.

"You were not yet ready," GH said. "You were not yet prepared. It was not a good decision to put you in a position that you were not ready to handle yet."

Leatherhead did not argue. He didn't exactly understand, but he found the sound of GH's voice soothing and calming. Found the feeling of GH's embrace comforting.