Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Underseen (yes, I realized irony of that statement)!  There are only two, or possibly three, chapters left in the book.  Remember, I try to go fo a minimum of twenty chapters. . . . Then again, you're probably right.

Again, new page --

• Book XVIII: Hostages Wild
• Book XIX: The Clone Wars
• Book XX: The Darwin Gun
• Book XXI: Other Side of the Tracks
• Book XXII: Pits of Terror
• Book XXIII: RAF Comix
• Book XXIV: The First Master
• Book XXV: RAF -- The Musical
• Book XXVI: Outage Outrage
• Book XXVII: Infinity and Eternity
• Book XXVIII: The Virus Rings
• Book XXIX: Soul-Suckers
• Book XXX: Mayhem of the Music Miser
• Book XXXI: The Metal-Maker
• Book XXXII: Richard is Missing
• Book XXXIII: Emotional Food
• Book XXXIV: Transformation Confrontation
• Book XXXV: Richard's Horn
• Book XXXVI: Feral Scream
• Book XXXVII: Predators and Prey
• Book XXXVIII: A Protean Problem
• Book XXXIX: The Horsemen
• Book XL: Sizeable Pain in the Necks
• Book XLI: RAF's Nightmare
• Book XLII: Unlucky Charms
• Book XLIII: The Piper
• Book XLIV: The Wishing Star
• Book XLV: A War of Armor
• Book XLVI: The Worst Plague
• Book XLVII: Little Alien Napoleons
• Book XLVIII: Go Away!
• Book XLIX: RAFian Tales
• Book L: Maul
• Book LI: Erised Orbs
• Book LII: RAFians Alive!* -- an out-of-normal-continuity book
• Book LIII: The Pain Reliever*
• Book LIV: Beyond the Veils*
• Book LV: Dangerous Deals*
• Book LVI: Of One Mind*
• Book LVII: The End of Time* -- another out-of-normal-continuity book
• Book LVIII: Hematomimic*
• Book LIX: Sins of Youth*
• Book LX: The Replacements*
• Book LXI: Arachnoids*
• Book LXII: Personal Tissues*
• Book LXIII: Memory Today, Gone Tomorrow*
• Book LXIV: Appliance Armageddon*
• Book LXV: Prodigy and Composite*
• Book LXVI: The Merging*
• Book LXVII: Be A Doll*
• Book LXVIII: RAF Captors* -- yet another out-of-normal-continuity book . . . unless I change my mind.
• Book LXIX: Dinosaur Island*
• Book LXX: Corrupted*
• Book LXXI: Artificial Skins*
• Book LXXII: Separation Anxiety*
• Book LXXIII: A Thing About RAFians*
• Book LXXIV: A Planted Idea*
• Book LXXV: Vacation Photos*
• Book LXXVI: A Personal Gremlin*
• Book LXXVII: The Rust is Silence*
• Book LXXVIII: The Toyman Cometh*
• Book LXXIX: RAFian Idol* -- yes, just another excuse to put in more of the (as of writing) nearly 800 parodies.
• Book LXXX: Savage Heart*
• Book LXXXI: Slave Islands and Juggernauts*
• Book LXXXII: Shredding a King*
• Book LXXXIII: RAF -- The TV Show*
• Book LXXXIV: The Drinker*
• Book LXXXV: The Last Laugh*
• Book LXXXVI: It's A Mad, Mad, Mad Villain*
• Book LXXXVII: Sight Unseen*
• Book LXXXVIII: Don't Let It Snow*
• Book LXXXIX: The Rachel Toxin*
• Book XC: Virus Alert!*
• Book XCI: A Youthful Thief*

Again, the (*) denotes a book I have yet to do the chapter-by-chapter notes for.

Well . . . time to end this book.  Again, it may be a short chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Heavy Hearts

Estelore stopped, turned around, and inspected the crater more thoroughly, realizing he may be able to regenerated like Demos or Phoenix can -- er, could.  That thought was just yet another stab in her heart.  She still didn't like being the last RAFian.  Already she missed her friends a great deal . . . Cloak's stoic warnings, Gaz's levity, Parker's tactical assessments, Demos's crazy experiments, Yarin's bizarre inventions, Noelle's wry commentary . . . all gone now.  All gone.

Estelore was satisfied that no part of Massacre survived, so she flew this time.  But aimlessly, without any knowledge or care where she was going.  She had nothing more to tie her to this planet, but she remained.  Even she did not know why.

Then she remembered.  Helen and Parker's children.  They deserved to know the horrid fate of their parents.  But how to find them?  Parker and Helen set up a safehouse for them, but that information was kept deliberately secret.  Only Richard, Parker and Helen knew. . . . But then again, Cloak knew.  He knew because he accidentally Earthsighted it one day.  And so, Estelore had a rough idea where it would be.

She landed and proceeded to walk on foot to the safehouse -- or at least she hoped it was the right way.  But eventually she heard a voice -- it sounded like a young woman scolding a child.

"Troy!  Get your but back in here!"

"No, Venus!  I wanna go outside!" came the rather whiny voice of an obstinate child.  "I don't wanna stay inside all day!"

"It's not safe out there," came another voice, a young man's.  "Troy, you listen!"

"You're not Mommy!  You're not Daddy!" Troy bawled.  "You can't tell me what to do!"

"Oh, like hell we can't!" Venus said.  "You get your butt right back in there!!  And you'll do as Pierce and I say until Mom and Dad get here!"

"Hello, kids." Estelore said.

"Wha -- Estelore?" Pierce said aghast.

"How'd you find this place?" Venus asked.

"Lucky guess," Estelore said calmly.  "You might want to keep your voices down if you're trying to hide."

"She has a point," Tommy said, quietly.

"What about our parents, though?" Pierce asked.  "What's taking them so long to get here?"

Estelore hesitated just a moment, it wasn't unnoticed.

"What happened?" Venus said, with a sinking heart.

"A beast called Massacre," Estelore said.

"Are Mom and Dad okay?" Pierce said, cutting through to the heart of the matter.  Again, Estelore hesitated.

"They're okay, right?" Venus insisted, but bordering hysterical.  "Right?"

Estelore heaved a heavy sigh, "No, Venus, they're not alright.  They're . . . they're dead."

The looks of horror from the quartet's faces was something that no one should have ever seen.

"Along with the other RAFians.  I am the last surviving RAFian."

Troy ran up to Estelore and beat his fists against her -- it wasn't painful in the physical sense, but it was quite a different matter in the emotional sense.

"Why did you survive?" Tommy said.  Estelore could not blame him for the accusatory tone.  "Why did you survive and they didn't?!"

"Because . . . Cloak saved me. . . ."

She went on to explain to them the circumstances and events that happened.  How all the RAFians were massacred, and only she and Cloak could only manage to damage it superficially.  How Cloak died and his essence -- his knowledge, his strength, his skills -- were passed on to her.  Then how, only with this boost, was she able to slay Massacre.

"And now . . . now I'm the last RAFian," Estelore finished, somewhat lamely.

"No, you're not." Tommy said, quietly.

"I beg your pardon?" Estelore said, clearly perplexed.

"Maybe you were the last RAFian during the battle," he replied, raising his hand to show his palm.  There was the stylized RAF "R" on it -- the Mark.  "But now we're all RAFians too."

Pierce, Venus, and Troy showed Estelore their newly obtained Marks.  This somehow helped Estelore find solice.

"Now," Venus said, when some of the shock had warn off from this devestating news about her parents.  "Let's go rebuild that forum."

"At the same site -- let everyone know that you can't keep RAF down."

"Right," Estelore said, unable to help but smile brightly.  "Follow me."

***

But the site wasn't as deserted as Estelore thought when the five arrived.  A lone figure -- in a cloak -- stood, looking down at the crater.  Upon their approach the figure stood up straighter, but wasn't very tall.

"Where is he?" the figure said.  "Where is the forum?"

"Shadow," Estelore said, "about that --"

"I said, 'Where is he'?!" Shadow repeated, more forcibly.

"Shadow, I'm sorry, Cloak is . . . well, he's dead, dear."

Shadow seemed to take this in.  She looked at Estelore and glowered at her.

"You're lying." she said.  "He can't be dead."

Estelore pulled out his tattered cloak, and handed it to Shadow, who's stony facade melted away.  But she didn't want to believe it.  She sincerely didn't want to.

"I suppose some explanation is in order. . . ."

[Estelore]

Eeeeeeeeeeeep.


Good chapter. *fetching popcorn*

[Cloak]

The last chapter is in my previous post, Esty, and thanks.  I'll probably start the new book . . . now.  And we're now back in normal continuity.

BOOK XVIII:
Hostages Wild
Chapter One:
Earthsight Training

Cloak and Aquilai were walking towards a rocky area, a trench -- a deep groove in the earth.  Aquilai was barefoot, feeling the earth beneath his feet.  He also wore colors of green, brown and gold.  Cloak simply wore his black cloak, gray shirt and pants, black twine belt and the black gloves for his hands and feet.

"I've been meaning to ask, how can you earthbend without being barefoot?" Aquilai asked.

"Technically-speaking, I'm not an earthbender.  That's something similiar, but different altogether." Cloak replied.

"Then how can you teach me Earthsight?"

"The two are similar enough to share that subskill," Cloak said.

"But --"

"Do really want to get into the semantics of this stuff?"

"Yes."

"Or are you trying to delay the exercise?" Cloak said, folding his arms, and giving Aquilai a stern look.

"Okay, okay! Geesh, stop with the glare.  You're worse than Teach!"*

Cloak stopped Aquilai from walking, and told him to put his blindfold on.

"And no peeking!  I'll be checking!"

After Aquilai tied on his blindfold, and Cloak came to check.

"Ah-ha!" Cloak said, readjusting Aquilai's blindfold.  "Nice try, Aquilai, but I've trained Shadow.  Such tricks won't work -- she's tried them all."

"I wasn't tryin' anything, honest!"

"Sure," Cloak smirked.  "Now, keep that on, and I'm gonna roll down a boulder for you to stop."

"Wh-what if I don't stop it in time?"

"Oh, you'll just regenerate into an airbender."

"That's not funny!"

"Okay, here we go!"

"Wait, I'm not ready!  I'm not ready!"

Too late, the boulder was rolling, and Aquilai jumped and clung to the trench's wall.  "I said I wasn't ready!!"

"Oops, my mistake," Cloak said.  "Now, you better get ready!  We'll be at this all day if we have to."

"Why did I ever agree to this?"

---
* Sorry Terenia -- I could resist the ol' "inescapable-teacher-glare" joke.

[Underseen]

The book title makes me think that it will be about Wild Hostages

[Cloak]

Wild Hostages

Never heard of that, actually.

Anyway, I don't know when I can get on tomorrow.  Got a few things to do, unless they fall apart at the last minute.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Cloakster, it's official.  I've found my muse, and it's you.  Seriously, if my muse had a physical incarnation in the real world, it would be you.  This is the second hit of inspiration I've gotten from your story!  First my literary muse goes crazy, and now my artistic one is going off the chain.



Told ya I was drawing this scene.

I'm thinking next I might draw you, Cloaky.  So I was just wondering, how much of you could be showing from under your cloak before things get incinerate-y?  Face, hands, tail, maybe?

[Cloak]

Nope, not face.  My face is almost always in shadow, although my eyes do glow when I'm feeling an intense emotion.

However arms, tail, and legs, sure -- although their are all covered (gloves adhering to sleeves, "foot gloves" adhering to pant legs, and the tail has it's own covering.  Necessary considering all the movement I go through over the course of the series.

Little more WHITE then I was anticipating. j/k

Okay, maybe a little short, but it introduces a new character.

CHAPTER TWO:
Enter . . . the Collector!

Meanwhile, in a desolate area of space, a strange ship -- darker than the darkest black thought possible -- proceeded at a slow and languidly pace.  It was flat and shaped like an arrow, with thin wings that raked forward.  All in all, it looked like the ship that Ravage piloted in Beast Wars -- only far, far bigger.  There were many lifeforms on board, but there was only one occupant onboard who was not in a painstakingly realistic habitat.

He wore a cloak the color of rancid feta cheese, and his eyes flickered with dirty white and an ugly shade of yellow from time to time.  This creature was obviously a Realm Walker, but a stranger.  He was far too small and too squat to be Cloak or Abomination or even Brute, Cloak's biological father.  He was clearly an avian-form Realm Walker -- a magpie-form, specifically.  He was called the "Collector".

He milled around the bulky area of the ship.  Where he had creatures stolen from their native homelands, and attempted to appease the sentient specimens with realistic simulations of their homeworld's ecosystem where they had lived.  The nonsentient animals seemed perfectly content with this, although their somewhat cramped quarters were reasons for their misery.

The self-aware specimens were not so easily satisfied.  His Orishan specimen would glare at him.  His Prypiatosian-B specimen would attempt to attack him, but he couldn't get through the radiation-proof glass.  His Geochelone Aerio specimen would sulk in the corner of his cramped enclosure.  His Talpaedan specimen would just cower in the corner, with the mentality of a scared child.  His Amperi specimen would attempt to divine ways and methods to escape -- but found that none where fruitfull.  This, all of this, amused Collector.

And death didn't stop this monster from simply taxiderming the poor critters -- and he's found a way to taxidermy all species other than Realm Walker.  As he IS a Realm Walker, he'd find that too monstrous.

There was a sound very much like a ringtone, and Collector said, in a high, nasally way, "Oh good!  The DNA scan of that forum is complete!"

He ran to the nearest consol to see the results.

"Forty humans . . . I'll only need one . . . I'll take that one.  Twenty-two Andalites -- one'll be all that's necessary for my collection.  That one, specifically.  So pretty.  Yeerks . . . endoparasites, hmm?  Well, I'll just have to remove them from their host . . . that one'll do nicely.  And . . . oooh, dragons!  But I already have one.   A furry?  I don't have THAT in my collection, I don't think. . . . Cats. . . . Hmmm . . . already have one of those.  Helmacrons?  I already have some*.  Hork-Bajir?  I already have one taxidermied.  " he muttered quite audibly.

He went on to deliberate on how he could do it, how he could snag each RAFians.  He seemed to even be aware of their Marks, but dismissed it as an unimportant, extraneous detail.  He basically continued to entertain the notion that collecting species like dolls or cards was perfectly normal and allowable.

Little did he realize that keeping RAFians isn't as easy as it looks. . . .

---
*In an ant farm-like structure with though-speak dampeners.

[Underseen]

Are you drawing or animating the scene, Dino? I know how you often animate.

[Mithril]

Sakki asked for my help with the Rafian models.

I get Underseen, Blue, and Humanized Dino
 (We found dinosaur models, but they take up half the grid and are difficult to work with)

We are thinking of doing a Battle Cup with them where members vote on the winner.

[Cloak]

Ah, excellent. *attempts to refrain from imitating Mr. Burns.*

With two working on it, then it'll go faster.  Good luck, you two!

Anyway, new chapters -- well, they'll have to wait until tomorrow.  My head is killing me, and I'm not too sure, but I suspect someone's tryin' to hack my computer.  Fortunately, nothing's stored on this computer.

[Sakki]

We're trying. But (more so with male models) there are glitches...glitches everywhere.

And I am having WAY to much fun with this Demos model XD

[Cloak]

And I am having WAY to much fun with this Demos model XD

What do -- never mind, Don't Ask, Don't Tell and all that jazz.

[Underseen]

We are thinking of doing a Battle Cup with them where members vote on the winner.

What's a Battle Cup?

[Sakki]

We are thinking of doing a Battle Cup with them where members vote on the winner.

What's a Battle Cup?

Battle tournament

[Cloak]

I think he's looking for more explanation, and I'm afraid we're getting a wee bit off-topic. . . .

Anyway -- let's get some more chapters rolling, shall we?

CHAPTER THREE:
M.I.A.

Cloak and Aquilai returned to RAF shortly before dusk.

"There.  That wasn't so hard, was it?"

A very sore Aquilai glared at Cloak, "You're kidding, right?"

"Oh, don't be that way!  You managed to Earthsight in the end, didn't you?"

Aquilai grumbled.  Then Cloak looked at Underseen, and could see that he was quite upset and worried.

"What's wrong?" Cloak said, easily snapping out of his jovial state.  "What has happened?"

"Gaz.  Parker.  Noelle.  Myitt.  Hunter."  Underseen said, barely able to hold his form due to his agitated state.  "They're all gone!"

"Gone?  Gone?" Cloak said aghast.  "How?"

"That's just it, we don't know." Underseen said.  Then he looked over to Cloak's right.  "Uh, where'd Aquilai go?"

"He didn't go anywhere, Underseen, he's standing . . . right . . . here?"

But he wasn't.  He was gone too.

"WHAT?  This makes no sense!"  Cloak said, fighting a desire to run his had through the fur on his head -- as that would involve removing his cloak's hood.  "Underseen, alert Gloom -- I mean, Goom!  And everyone else!  We must put up the energy shields."

"We're already on high alert, Cloak." Underseen said.  "Everyone's being recalled to RAF as we speak.  We're to meet in the assembly hall when everyone's here.

***

When everyone had arrived.  Richard had stood in front of them, with his mods flanking him.  Except Phoenix.  He was now missing as well.  As were Horse, Yarin, Dino, Demos and Sakki.  As well as the Sakki's friend and newly-minted RAFian, Mithril.  Thirteen missing.  The number now seemed more unlucky than ever.

"As you may have guessed, my fellow RAFians, thirteen of our number has vanished without a trace." Richard announced to the group en masse.  "We do not know where.  We do not know how.  That is why we're going into high alert.  Red alert.  If you leave RAF, you may be asked to wear a tracking chip, so YOU do not disappear like the thirteen.  It is a drastic measure, I know, but we don't want to allow anyone else to be kidnapped or vanish or however this is happening."

Richard took a breath, looking as if he aged fifty years in that once exhalation.

"If anyone has any idea, any notion, about how this has happened, or who may be behind this," he said, rather heavily, "we'd love to hear it.  We haven't any clues ourselves about the perpetrator."

Cloak, who stood at the back of the room, rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  He thought, Those thirteen must have some connection to this or to themselves.  But what could it be?