Memoirs of a RAFian

[redtailedsaffa]

Oh, man, this reminds me of a first-grade field trip we took. Utter chaos. Being the quiet kid, I got lost.

[Cloak]

Right. Anyway -- new book idea!

• BOOK CCCXVII: "Lucrative Love" -- The RAFians must stem the flow of black market Amortentia and other Love Potions.

Now another chapter.

CHAPTER TEN:
A Very Special Metal

 
"Of course this would have to come from a country in the midst of war," Shadow complained as she held a sample of Zoodeitium. The metal had properties STILL not fully explored. Aquilai had studied the last bit that the RAFians had, a bit too small for the needs of the antidote.
 
So, Shadow had to search for it.  She found a sufficient quantity in a war-torn part of the Middle East. Needless to say -- it wasn't a pleasant sojourn.
 
"This had better be worth it," Shadow said, dodging the fire fight and disappearing into the earth.
 

***

Meanwhile, the time at the circus had come to a close, and Parker and Estelore were taking the young RAFians back to the car.
 
Faerie sang:

"I'm glad, I'm glad.
What a really great time we had!
Did you see those lions and those tigers?
Weren't they neat?"

Parker asked, fatherly:

"Are you happy now?"

Faerie answered:

"We are; thanks a lot!
I'm sorry that we fought.
From now on, I'll get along."

Az replied:

"That's alright, Faerie; I was wrong."

Esty said, motherly:

"Ah, that's nice, now come along.
Let's all get in the car."

Faerie addressed Az:

"You can take the seat you like,
You're always so gallant."

Az replied:

"Ah, thank you, Faerie, but ladies first.
You take the seat you want."

Parker said:

"Everybody's happy now.
We've had a real good day,
And now it's time to go back home.
To RAF, so, let's be on our way!"

But it didn't take long . . .

"You hit me." Rotiart whined to Saffa.

"No, I didn't." Saffa retalitated.

"Yes, you did. Stop it!"

"No, you stop it!"

"Move your leg!"

"No, you move your leg!"

"You started it!"

"No, I didn't, you did!"

"No, I didn't, you did!"

"So what?"

"You always start it!"

"Don't you cross that line!"

"You're not the boss of me!"

"This is where the line is, right here!"

"Oh yeah? Since when? Get out of my face! I'm the boss here!"

"Estelore, he started it!"

Parker sighed, "Helen and I will NEVER have kids after this."

"She's five right now, Parker," Estelore reminded him.

"Ugh," Parker recoiled. "Don't remind me."

[redtailedsaffa]

Oh gods, the last few lines

[Cloak]

Right.

Sorry, no chapters today, and maybe none tomorrow. I won't be able to get on the computer on the weekends though. I can't afford Internet right now, so I'm depending on the REC (that's the recovery education center -- recovery for trauma, for me) right now.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Lol, the fights they get into sound like how my siblings and I still argue, to this day. 

We've never been the most mature bunch.

Aw, that sucks, Cloak.  I hope you can get your internet back soon.

[Cloak]

Aw, that sucks, Cloak.  I hope you can get your internet back soon.

Don't make enough to afford it. Gonna hafta rely on the REC and the library for now . . . would be nice if it was included in my rent again, but . . . alas, it is not to be.

But I'm off today (gonna work tomorrow so my coworker can have the day off -- it's his 39^th anniversary with his wife, who he had almost lost a couple of months earlier -- so the day was VERY important to him, as it should be), so I'll see if I can get a chapter up.

Now -- if I remember my notes (left them behind) right, this is the next chapter.
 

CHAPTER ELEVEN:
The Electronic Babysitter

 
"Okay, everyone," Parker was saying, "just sit down and watch these cartoons."
 
Cloak, Estelore and Richard were sitting some distance away, all levity leeched from them. This could not go on for very much longer. The four were ALREADY stretched to exhaustion, and they couldn't face thirteen or so more Dweller Earth years of this. There was just too much to do, too much to keep track of. It would be easier if there were more responsible adults to help monitor the children's tomfoolery, but it was just the four of them -- because they are depending on Shadow to find the appropriate ingredients.

Cloak was the only one to really have absolute, unwavering confidence that she was up to the task. The other three had doubts that she could undertake such a monumental endeavor so effortlessly.

"I never said it would be without effort," Cloak protested. "It won't be easy, but Shadow can do it."

"It's been three days time since she went out to collect the ingredients, though," Estelore pointed out.

"I didn't say it would be immediate results."

"I didn't think you put faith in prophecies, Cloak." Parker countered.

"I'm not putting faith in that" -- he made an ugly face, as if something exceedingly unpleasant had lodged itself upon his tongue -- "'prophecy'. My faith is squarely in Shadow, in her capability to accomplish a task, complete a goal."

Silence greeted these words, spoken with such obvious sincerity that no one dared questioned it. But Cloak could read the doubt and worry upon their faces. None of them were aware of the Unimind Incident, or of the Time War. They haven't had the chance to really to see Shadow's true light that dwelt within her heart. Neither had her uncle, but he was very much aware of it, and proud to see it in her.

Then true horror struck his ears. It came from the television.

"Oh no. Not that. Not that."

"Ooooooooh, who lives in a pineapple under the sea?"

"You monsters," Cloak said, with mock horror at the other three.

***

"AAAAAAHHHHH!" Cloak winced. "Turn it off! Turn it off!"

"It isn't 'Spongebob Squarepants, Cloak. Chill." Estelore said.

"No! It's worse! Much worse! Turn it off!"

On the screen, one of those idiotic "Fred" movies was playing. Cloak could not fathom why or how ANYONE would find such a THING entertaining. It was TORTURE!!

"Turn it off!"

"Okay, okay! It's off, it's off, you big baby." Parker said. They had switched it to Mythbusters.

[Cloak]

I guess I can post chapters now whenever I want or can, thanks to my neighbor's generosity. She is really too kind, and a stark contast to my last, far more inconsiderate neighbor.
 

CHAPTER TWELVE:
One Jump Ahead

 
Shadow had procured a bit of Hesperides Midgardian wood. The Hesperides weren't too pleased with it, however, no matter how good a cause it was for.

"I'll have your hands for a trophy, you mortal rat!" the head Hesperides -- Hesperide? -- said, clearly unaware of Shadow's species and the implausibility of such a thing as taking her hands for trophies.

"All this for a hunk of wood?" Shadow muttered incredulously, before leaping a chasm. The music started up, causing the obligatory musical number to start up.

Shadow sang:

"Gotta keep
One jump ahead of the deadline,
One swing ahead of the sword.
I steal only what I can't afford
To lose.
One jump ahead of the women.
That's all, and that's no joke.
I'm sorry, guys, but I need the oak."

But the Hesperides screeched:

"Riffraff!
Cloaked rat!
Scoundrel!
Take that!"

"Just a little sample, girls?"

"Rip her open! Take it back, girls!"

"I can take a hint,
Gotta face the facts:
I know what I must do.
Tell you all about it when I got the time!
One jump ahead of the Slowpokes.
One skip ahead of my doom.
Next time, gonna use a different nom de plume!
One jump ahead of the hitwomen.
One hit ahead of the flock.
I think I'll take a stroll around the block!"

"Stop, thief!
Vandal!
Outrage!
Scandal!"

Shadow tried reason again.

"Let's not be too hasty!"

Then the dragon Ladon, who Shadow didn't think could sing, sang:

"Still I think she's looks tasty!"

Shadow managed to escape him, with her superior agility and smaller size. She sang:

"One jump ahead of the footbeats."

"Riffraff!"

"One hop ahead of the hump!"

"Cloaked rat!"

"One trick ahead of disaster!"

"Scoundrel!"

"They're quick, but I'm much faster!"

"Take that!"

"Here goes:
Better throw my hand in
Wish me happy landin'
All I gotta do is jump!"

And, with that, Shadow managed to elude the Hesperides and get away to safety.

[Cloak]

Okay, next chapter.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
Flames of Passion

"I don't believe this," Parker said. "After all they've done to us, you're actually suggesting this."

"They're children, Parker." Esty intoned.

"Who grew up to be monsters." he countered mulishly. "Let them have their 'Lord of the Flies' life, and let's worry about our own. It's bad enough we have babysit the entirety of the townsfolk in addition to the kiddiefied RAFians, but this is taking it a step too far."

"Parker," Cloak said, with a weary voice of someone expecting something rather unpleasant, "it has to be done. They are running wild."

"I draw the line there. I'm not gonna take care of Knights. I don't care if they're kids." he insisted. "They're monsters."

"Are we still talking about the Knights, Parker," Richard said, astutely, "or ex-General Cannon?"

Parker said nothing.

"The ghosts of the past are never easy to get rid of," Cloak said, quiet and knowingly. "But the duty is clear as crystal. It might not be pleasant but -- ROTIART, YOU KNOCK THAT OFF!!"

Cloak had caught the brat bullying some of other RAFians. If there was one thing from these kids that Cloak would not tolerate, it was bullying. That, and playing with matches.

***

Meanwhile, Shadow was at the old temple at a place called Delphi, looking for a suitable flame to match the line in the prophecy. She surmised that the fire pit here might suffice. Granted, there hasn't been a fire here for many years, it might be cheating the prophecy ingredients a bit. But Shadow had to give it a shot.

She took some ash from the pit and put it into a small pouch of a similar fabric that Realm Walker cloaks were made from, as the ash had a habit of sparking from time to time. It was unusual, but, really, Shadow has seen stranger.

Only one item left to obtain now. The heart of Kracko.

[redtailedsaffa]

I don't blame him. Some screaming kids in the train killed my sleep last night.

[Cloak]

Sorry to hear that, Saffa. But that's Murphy's Law for you -- and I personally hate that law.

New book ideas!

• Book CCCXVIII: "Elecron Alley" -- The RAFians must enter a computer to defeat a foe, while Parker discovers someone he believed to be dead, alive and well.
• Book CCCXIX: "Sickening Skinning Solutions" -- The RAFians must stop a black market sell of an unauthorized, unregistered, undocumented potion.
• Book CCCXX: "Suit and Lie" -- The RAFians must deal with the illegal sale of human-suits.
• Book CCCXXI: "Out of Hand" -- The RAFians try to shut down the black market permanently.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:
Cloud Catching and You're Afraid

Shadow had divined what the heart of Kracko really was. See, the only Kracko she knew of was in the Kirby world. It was a cloud monster with yellow spikes and eliptical cloud-like body with a singular, bulging Cyclopean eye with power over lightning.

So, simple logic followed that the heart of Kracko was little more than a cloud. However, she approached the problem of getting to the cloud differently than her uncle would have. He would have waited a bit, to get the right bearings of a right cloud, and meticulously calculated the perfect moment to snag it.

But Shadow wasn't her uncle, she had the impatience and impetuousness of youth. She had a reckless streak to match her stubbornness (an obstinateness that was the hallmark of the bloodline she shared with her uncle). She launched herself into the cloud, rather haphazardly. She used her mastery over Air to glide about, instead of using the energy disc technique, which she had developed . . . er, mostly.

She eventually managed to coax some cloud into a flask, then went on her merry way -- before realizing that she nearly forgot an ingredient. Hallowed soil.

***

The four were exhausted. But they managed to get all the little terrors back to sleep. Aquilai managed to decide to stop waterbending snowballs at everyone -- he was back to being the First Aquilai now. The four could manage to sleep a bit.

And Cloak dreamed. He dreamed of back when he was five, or thereabout. His sister, Faith, was roughly fourteen then.

She sang:

"Little brother, you're scared of everything made,
I've never seen anything like it!
You're scared of the barn,
Scared of the tree,
Afraid of everything that you see.
You're scared of the water,
Scared of the dark,
Scared of the daylight too.
The sun and the shade,
We're really dismayed.
Little brother, what'll we do with you?
You're scared of the water,
Scared of the dark,
Scared of the daylight too.
The sun and the shade,
We're really dismayed!
Little brother, what'll we do with you?"

Okay, it was a slight exaggeration on her part. But he really was a scaredy cat in those days. It was only about two years -- Walker years -- later he began training in the elements. . . .

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH HHH!" came a loud bawl.

Cloak awoke and muttered, "Veil's bells."

[redtailedsaffa]

Backward regeneration? Degeneration? Well, that's new.

[Cloak]

More like "turning back the clock" than "regeneration". "Degeneration" has too much of a negative connotation.
 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
Self-Doubt and Mercy Without

 
Shadow looked all around, beyond the wrought iron kissing gate. There was a moderately high brick wall barrier all around the back end of this lonely, pristine white church. But, for all appearances, it appeared to be abandoned. Shadow hesitated for a bit, fearing that this may be some sort of sacrilege, doubt riddling her like machine gun fire.
 
What if she was wrong? What if she had made a mistake? What if she screwed this all up?
 
She shook her head. No, she had come this far. She had done this much . . . although does the soil of a graveyard count as sacred ground? Could sanctuaries be interpreted as sacred?

Wait . . . the prophecy said "sanctuaries", not "sacred ground". She looked at the church and remembered the prophecy described many sanctuaries. A church is but one.

"Well," she muttered, "if it was easy, it probably wouldn't be worth doing, I guess."

And she set off collecting a small soil sample from the ground upon which the church sat -- fortunately, it was not a WBC, so the "sanctuary" status could still apply. Shadow later collected soil from a mosque, a Jewish temple, a homeless shelter where many sought asylum from the bitter cold . . . she thought that was sufficient.

Time to get back.
 

***

"Mistress," Mega Maul said, "I'm . . . I'm afraid I don't understand."

He, Ravager, and Malice was watching the whole situation from afar, from what appeared to be an overlarge crystal ball, that essentially functioned as television. Ravager still maintained his pantherine form, but he looked different, as if he had been updated. They all sat in the dark, illuminated only by the light from this crystal ball.

Ravager gave Mega Maul a weary, whithering look, which Mega Maul found offensive. But he said nothing, knowing Malice favored the Cybertronian feline over him, and resented the metal beast for this.

"Don't understand what?" Malice said, in dangerous, honeyed tones. "You'll have to be more . . . specific, Megs."

Mega Maul did not like the nickname, but could not say anything about it due to the vow he took. It was a binding vow -- literally binding.

"Well?!" Malice said, impatiently.

"How does turning them into children further your plans, plans to destroy Cloak and his RAFians?" Mega Maul said, burying his emotions -- a terrible thing to do.

"Poor, poor, simple Megs," Malice said, with joyous cruelty. "Caring for the children of not only RAF, but the town and those . . . those Knight things, this will exhaust him.  Make him simple prey." Then she shrugged. "And making them kids makes them easier to dispose of."

"But Cloak wasn't turned --"

"I wasn't talking about him." Malice snapped. "OBVIOUSLY."

[redtailedsaffa]

Man, was I glad when Fred Phelps died. Perhaps one of the few deaths I'll ever be glad of.

[Cloak]

Yes, he was a truly awful man, and his, as I prefer to call it, his church of hatred is no better. Yet these are the people the GOP seems to want to cater to in America . . . but I digress before I get too political.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
Bye Knight, Hello Babysitter

"I don't have to listen you!" cried the brat. "You're not my Daddy!"

The brat used to be a higher-up in the Knights of Humanity. The four RAFians found them as difficult to deal with as Rotiart. They were harder to handle as five-year-olds than when they were full-grown. Parker had the misfortune to deal with this little hellraiser.

"You're not my Daddy!" the brat whined again. "Stop telling me what do do! You're not my Daddy!"

"No," Parker said, his tone clealy indicating that he was reaching breaking point with his patience for these Knight brats. His temper flared. "No, boy, I'm not your father -- woe to whomever that is -- but I am the guy who can give you a smoking crater where your head used to be, now settle down and behave yourself!!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH HHHHHH!!!!"

"Oh, you have such a way with children, Parker," Esty sighed heavily. She was glad that stars did not need parenting -- uh, usually. Fred certainly does, the obnoxious brat.

"Don't even start with me, Estelore. The brat had it coming." Parker said hotly. "I told you it would be impossible to take them in. Their hatred is inborn."

"I think you're a bit biased because they used to be Knights," Cloak said.

"What do you mean 'used to be'? They are still Knights! They may seem harmless -- uh, relatively harmless -- now, but they'll grow to be as hateful and prejudiced as before." Parker pointed out.

"Not necessarily," Richard said. "Hatred is developed, earned -- whether justifiable or not -- and cultivated. No hatred is inborn."

"You three are being remarkably naive," Parker grumbled.

"You cannot match hate with hate," Cloak said, darkly. "It never ends well."

"You're one to talk," Parker said.

"I have felt the flame of hatred, it is true," Cloak said, passing around snacks with the others now. "But I found that it can burn your soul worse than Fiendfyre or hellfire, it can blind you to the truths around you."

Cloak looked at the crowd of five-year-olds, and the smattering of two-year-olds. "Parker, why hate them as children for what they did, might do again, as adults?"

Parker said nothing, a convenient sunlight glare obscuring his body language and his helmet masking his facial expression.

"Would you have treated a five-year-old Hitler, Mussolini, or Fred Phelps like that if you knew the evils they would beget, but had not commited? Or would you attempt to sway them away from that dangerous path?" Cloak asked genuinely. "I generally think the later would be more desirable, as no one is inherently evil. It is environmental factors, and flaws within the person's own character and personality that leads them the the seduction of the dark path."

"Done monologuing?" Parker said, irreverently.

[redtailedsaffa]

Something to think about, really.