Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

I have really long legs

Not that long, Elongated Man.

To be honest, I'm kind of glad true immortality doesn't exist.  I mean, can you imagine what it would actually be like, to live forever?  To watch everything die around you, the world, the stars, and eventually the universe?  And in that time, you'd have to do every single conceivable thing possible to do, millions of times over, just to keep yourself entertained.  Either you'd have to find a way to wipe your own memory every few thousand years, or you'd go insane.  Or else you'd have to become some kind of being with an infinite mind, capable of comprehending infinity, that your mortal self could not possibly understand nor recognize.

Precisely.

New chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
Ashes to Ash, Dust to Dust

"You are just a know-nothing little mortal!" Simone said, as Elena and Jacob flanked her. "We've been maintaining our immortality for two hundred years. You're too young to understand --"

Cloak chuckled. "That's only twenty, my time. So, lemme guess. Elena, right? You're two hundred and twenty-five? Thereabouts? And Simone, I presume? You'd be two hundred and forty, right? And the ferry driver there I presume would be between one hundred to one hundred and fifty-one?"

"What about it?" snarled Jacob.

"Using your calendar," Cloak said, "I'm about two hundred and seventy, two hundred and seventy-one, of your years old, if I understand the conversion right. So, yeah. All three of you are actually YOUNGER than me. But that's hardly the point. I don't have to be older than you to be wiser and more clever than you."

"You are not --" Elena protested.

"You think of immortality as a tangible aspect instead of a fictitious construct," Cloak countered easily, ready for this argument. "You resort to brutish ''coz I so' style of rhetoric when challenged. I'd hardly call that wise nor clever."

"SILENCE!!" Simone roared. "Forgot all of this ideological nonsense!! It's time to take you --"

"And I won," Cloak said. He cast a furtive glance at the thing, and smiled inwardly.

"What?!" Jacob demanded.

"You're resorting to violence to silence me," Cloak said, hands folded against his chest. "That's as good as announcing that you cannot beat me in the field of thought and ideas."

"Ignore him!" Simone scolded. "Hurry up! We have to drain them before the alignment ends! He cannot take all three of us on at the same time!"

Cloak smiled deeply at this. And he allowed it to be shown.

"Whoever said that I had to?" he said.

"What the bloody hell are you talking --" Simone snapped before realizing her body as well as Elena's and Jacob's were beginning to smoke. And smoke painfully.

"You've waited too long," Cloak said, with a knowing smirk. "The moon is out of the necessary alignment -- and you didn't drain anyone."

They quickly collapsed into assorted bones and dust. Of course, this is when the zombies chose to show up, and bear witness to this. Only to follow suit moments later. The green light that animated them floated off and back into the aether.

"Well," GH said, trying to sound cheerful for Leatherhead's sake. "This was eventful. Who's up for Chinese?"

***

"Okay, LH," GH said. "It's time for bed now."

They were back in the forum now, all nice and fed. But now it was time to sleep. It was really quite fortunate GH got called off of his -- as he thought of it -- "civilian job". He was a tad relieved, because he felt like some conniving jackanape was gonna try to manipulate him into being in that hot, stinky armadillo mascot suit again.

He wasn't gonna do it, even if he wasn't called off. He hated that suit with a passion at this point with the sheer amount of times he had been forced to "perform" in it. Had it been his own choice, then sure, maybe once or twice. Not the friggin' eight times in the past month or two.

"Okay, Daddy," the little boy said.

"Wait, Leatherhead," GH said, "you have to take off your human suit to wash up."

Leatherhead hesitated. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, son," GH said. By the usage of "son" and the firm way GH said it, Leatherhead knew that he could not argue without risking being in trouble. That and he was too tired to resist. He had achieved what many six-year-olds haven't yet -- he stayed up pass his bedtime. "It's gotta be cleaned after our . . . uh, after our little . . . adventure today."

"Oh, okay," he said as he complied. Then he washed up and got into his bed, and GH followed suit. GH turned out the light and fell asleep -- actually a feat for GH.* He just awoke once, when he realized that Leatherhead had come into his bed -- because he was scared and had a nightmare. GH revealed just how much of a softie he really was and allowed him, but on the provision that it was not a permanent thing.


*

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
Back to School and Stuff

It was back to the daily grind, and a new school year was starting up this very day. Leatherhead didn't attend public school, but was instead homeschooled at the forum by GH and the other RAFians -- which happened to include Terenia, a teacher.

Anyway, Dylan sang:

"We're sad we're confessin'
That school's back in session.
I sure learned my lesson."

YeerkSalad sang:

"I actually had fun!"

Elsewhere, RYTX sang, after returning from a disastrous trip:

"I'm filled with elation,
I'm back from THAT vacation!"

Aila sang, while dodging a unwanted, but amorous would-be suitor:

"For my next incarnation,
I'm coming back as a nun!"

Meanwhile, at Terenia's class, she sang:

"Welcome back to all of you
For a new school year."

Her students sang:

"Yikes!  A test!
I need rest!
I'm living in fear!"

At the mess hall in the forum, Shenmue sang, as she leafed through the local newspaper:

"Politics is a pity."

Meanwhile, Melissa sang while petting her American shorthair familiar:

"At least I got my little black kitty."

RAFians sang in unison, despite their differing locations:

"Thanks again, as the school bells sound.
Never mind,
Just be kind.
We'll just be goin' over this again!
We're crazy,
We're loony,
We'll get back soon-y.
It's RAF adventures --"

And GH proudly proclaimed as he held a super soaker as if it was actual gun with Leatherhead scrambling to catch up.

"-- And I am the champ!"

Cloak snapped his fingers, causing a deluge to fall on GH.

"And now you are just damp."

GH looked unamused, as Cloak said, with a playful smirk, "I just can't help myself."


SOURCE SONG:https://youtube.com/watch?v=MQ_tsU6Qzxc

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Slash For Cash

Az set out for a robotic dinosaur park. The proprietors thought that robotic dinosaurs might be easier to control and maintain than genuine article. Dino . . . she was not a big fan of the place. There was, in effect, an uncanny valley effect for her about this place -- the animatronics designers strove to make them as lifelike as they could, deceptively so. But basically be dinosaurs that could be shut off remotely -- something that the people in "Jurassic Park" couldn't really due with their living theme park monsters.

Az saw robotic Triceratops, Brachiosaurus, Pteranodon, Dilophosaurus, Deinonychus, Velociraptor (which didn't look anything like they did in "Jurassic Park"), Stegosaurus, Herrerasaurus, Tupuxuara, Parasaurolophus, Dimetrodon, Troodon, Pachycelphalosaurus, Mosasaur, Ankylosaur, Comsognathus, Plesiosaur, amongst others that he heard but couldn't see.

And he soon discovered why the park was evacuated. Not because of the fiend, but because of the free-roaming robotic Tyrannosaurus Rex. Who on earth thought that that was a good idea? It loomed over him, threateningly. He just froze it. Froze it solid. It was temporary fix at best, but it was done. He move onward, in deeper to the heart of the park, where he found the fiend.

This fiend was a wild, wiley creature with human-like eyes that had scarlet sclera and silver irises. It stood about as high as a child between eight and twelve, with a hunched, bestial posture. Its face looked perfectly human, barring the spike-like white soul patch beard it had. The hair that framed its head in sharp spike, reminiscent of Vegeta, was hard and purple. It had a structure that looked like a white ponytail terminating in a small, metallic pendulum at the back of its head. Its shoulder pads were scarlet with purple accents, while its torso was black on the left side and green on the right. Its neck, abdomen, upper arms, lower legs, and thighs were white. On its groin area, it appeared to be wearing purple briefs. It had several saurian spines trailing down its spine, terminating at its rump. Its lower arms were an obvious orange, with its human-like hands being onyx black. And on these hands it had a pair of Wolverine-like claws, but these couldn't retract. It wore principally red and purple grieves on its lower legs. Its feet were just three orange toes, each bearing a single, long, black claw.

Once it saw Az, it began to leap around the room like a hyperactive monkey. Az took note of its speed and agility -- which far outstripped his own. Az decided not to waste time to see its attack pattern, he just smacked in the face with an ice disc. It turned blue and fell onto its back, frozen, but it was not long before it shattered the ice, got back up, and bounced off the walls until it was briefly out of view.

"Great," Az muttered apprehensively.

Then it dropped silver eggs down around Az, who dodged them -- thank goodness for that one obstacle course in the Danger Room. Az managed to avoid them, but only look at the reddish goo the left behind and Az surmised that they'd slow his movements. He didn't want that -- especially with this fiend.

When it came down again, Az struck it with another ice disc, which froze it again. It broke the ice and headed back up again, and, again, out of sight. He dropped the eggs down on Az again, only this time one hit him and he was right. His movement was slowed -- he couldn't even jump. He froze the goo with his cryokinesis, and it shattered off his body. He did this in enough time to deliver an ice disc right to the fiend's face again. It froze him yet again, but he broke free to continue this pattern.

Twice more and Az managed to slay the fiend. He reported that the mission was completed and also reported about the ill-advised autonomous Tyrannosaurus Rex robot. He then left for the extraction point.

***

Demos called it a "surasshusapien". He designed the fiend for land reclamation work, or so he claimed.

***

Malice was snoozing instead of watching this. Talk about villain decay.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Okay, so they specifically created dinosaurs that could be shut off remotely . . . then evacuated the park without shutting them off?  Am I getting that right?  Geez, people. 

Fun fact about the original Jurassic Park: their dinosaurs actually were SUPPOSED to have a biological off-switch.  They genetically designed the dinosaurs to be deficient in a certain nutrient, and if deprived of that nutrient, they would slip into a coma and die.  The only problem was that they picked a nutrient that was so common that the dinosaurs could find alternate sources of it on their own. 

Sorry.  You can't mention Jurassic Park in your story and expect me NOT to nerd out a bit.

[Cloak]

Okay, so they specifically created dinosaurs that could be shut off remotely . . . then evacuated the park without shutting them off?  Am I getting that right?  Geez, people. 

Actually, they tried -- and it didn't work. Or, at least, that's what management is claiming, anyway.

Fun fact about the original Jurassic Park: their dinosaurs actually were SUPPOSED to have a biological off-switch.  They genetically designed the dinosaurs to be deficient in a certain nutrient, and if deprived of that nutrient, they would slip into a coma and die.

Already familiar with this. And if they had a biological kill-switch still in effect, than they could not make sequels, unless its about the clean-up in the aftermath. And let's face it, you can't make a franchise out of that, because it wouldn't be too exciting picking up and disposing of dead dinosaurs. I could be wrong, of course, but you never know in this era of Hollywood trying to milk things for would-be franchises.

The only problem was that they picked a nutrient that was so common that the dinosaurs could find alternate sources of it on their own. 

I'll admit that I did not know how common lysine was. Of course, outside the narrative, that may only be in there just for potential sequel sake.

Sorry.  You can't mention Jurassic Park in your story and expect me NOT to nerd out a bit.

With a name like DinosaurNothlit, I assume it would be expected that you might know a thing or two about dinosaurs.

Anyway, I might post the start of the next book a little later. Gonna be busy later tonight, and I'm still a tad excited about the USUM news. I'll be able to shiny hunt Legendaries, and not foul it up like I did in AS (which was before I really became a shiny hunter).

[DinosaurNothlit]

I'll admit that I did not know how common lysine was. Of course, outside the narrative, that may only be in there just for potential sequel sake.

Actually, lysine is indeed very common.  Do you know another species that can't make lysine, but needs it to survive?  Humans!  Turns out, it's SO common, you get enough of it in your normal diet, without ever needing to worry about it at all! 

No, the people making the dinosaurs were just stoopid.  Why else would they use frog DNA, instead of, say, crocodile or bird?

[Cloak]

No, the people making the dinosaurs were just stoopid.  Why else would they use frog DNA, instead of, say, crocodile or bird?

Because crocodiles and birds can't spontaneously change gender?

New chapter.

BOOK CLXI:
LEAGUE OF ASSASSINS
CHAPTER ONE:
Spring Forward, Fall Back

Dino had to go to an elaborate toy factory, requiring her to be in her compacted form. This was one obligation that she wasn't too happy about, but complied nevertheless. But when she entered it seemed more like a fortress poorly masquerading as a toy factory.

She quickly noticed how bright and saccharine it looked inside. It looked as if it was designed by that Toyman guy -- Manfried Childs, she thought his name was -- the guy who tried to force RAFians to play games -- deadly games with severe consequences -- just about a year ago. This place almost seemed like a relic of that. Dino sniffed, and could tell that no human had stepped in here in that time span. Yet, it did not have the scent or feeling of being derelict. Odd.

She started by heading down a shaft from the nearly bare upper floor. The shaft was really too confining for her liking, but perfectly sized for her compacted form. She was glad she had that reverse Vaxasaurian ability. It was a strange feeling, to feel so claustrophobic.

There seemed to be hot pink springs everywhere. Some in the most inconvenient places. And strangest thing of all were their strength. They were strong enough to launch her, as if this was "Mario Odyssey". This whole place was disorienting to her. But she was still trying to keep collateral damage to a minimum as she moved forward.

. . . Okay, screw it. Avoiding collateral damage wasn't worth this aggravation. She just rammed her way through things, at her full height. The owners of this abandoned place wouldn't care -- they'd get to write it off somehow. And, fortunately, all this commotion attracted the fiend.

The fiend seemed to be internally composed of like two thousand and seventeen springs. It had no mouth or real face to speak of, just two large, round, human-like eyes with dark brown sclera and blood red irises. Its head (for lack of a better term), arms and legs were metallic springs while its abdomen was a single bronze spring. Its upper torso -- which connected its head spring to its abdominal spring, was green with purple at the collar. Its shoulder pads, which were green with purple trim, connected its arm springs to green lower arm bits which each had yellow triangular marking on it and black hands. The abdominal spring attached the upper torso to a gold plate that served as the creature's waist. Below this was a blunt, cubic peg which attached the leg springs to the green lower legs, which had purple accents and an orange gem at the knees. It had bronze toes and soles of its feet.

The fiend jumped up to the center of this spacious room, jumped high, erratically spinned, and performed two stretching punches. Dino's ankylosaur shell was sufficient enough to block these attacks. Then, when it landed, it will fire out some kinetically-charged springs. They bounced across the room on the floor and off the walls. While these coils were bouncing, attempting to land on Dino's softest, most vulnerable spots, and catch her to jump and smash her into the ceiling to try to murder her. While her shell could protect her from that attack, absorbing most of the force, but it would still hurt. After this, the fiend jumped back into the position it started and begins the pattern all over again.

Dino decided to be proactive. She went to viciously maul the fiend. It went down in seven vicious lacerations from Dino's kicks and stomps, which was impressive that it could take that amount of punishment. She had to give it that, at least, as she made her way out of this place -- which was somehow still standing.

***

Demos called a "supuringusapien". Demos did not clarify a reason being why he designed the fiend, and would not when pressed, leading the others to believe that it was an accidental creation.

***

Malice watched this, almost with detached interest, saying, "Whatever. Spring-related pun to made later."

[DinosaurNothlit]

It does kinda make sense that it'd be hard to kill a spring.

I love that Malice is just so bored at this point that she isn't even trying anymore. 

P.S. I just noticed the pun in the chapter title, and oh, that makes me happy that I was the one who got to kill that spring, since I hate hate HATE daylight savings time.  Especially the 'spring forward' part. 

[Cloak]

I love that Malice is just so bored at this point that she isn't even trying anymore. 

That made me LOL. +1

P.S. I just noticed the pun in the chapter title, and oh, that makes me happy that I was the one who got to kill that spring, since I hate hate HATE daylight savings time.  Especially the 'spring forward' part. 

Yeah, I have no love for it either. And I find it utterly pointless.

But I'd bet that this is a common complaint about DST.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWO:
The Assassin Tribunal

Deep in an undisclosed, safe location, sat seven top tier assassins, each with a different weapon preference. The seats they sat on were on a tiered dais, and each wore a chalk white mask which hid their faces, and even their eyes. They wore flowing robes, akin to a daimiyo or kabuki, indicating their regal status. This attire also hid their species as well as other distinguishing features, such as body size and height.

These were the head of the League of Assassins. They were in secret, but international organization that staffed themselves only the world's greatest killers (well, except the kitchen staff and housekeepers, for obvious reasons),not to mention that they trained the best assassins and terrorists in the world. And these seven were the greatest of them all, having the most silent and undetectable kills under their belt.

But this day they were not happy. They had an indelible blemish on their records. There was one student who had surpassed all their expectations, who had excelled in every test, every skill check, every obstacle they threw at him. This prodigy rapidly became the apple of their eye. They had allowed themselves to grow too fond of this student.

Which is why his utter betrayal was taken so seriously by all seven. When he went on his first mission, he showed compassion and mercy to the target. He had even let the mark go, unharmed!! This was intolerable, as was the fact that he turned his back on them and left the League for that -- that --they couldn't even think of it without welling up with rage

"He used us," said the fearsome Andreas Clay, known as Ninja Tribunal Headmaster to anyone but his fellow Headmasters, as was the same with his fellow Headmasters. His voice was heavy and gravelly. His chosen weapons was a warhammer and a iron glove that he wore over his right hand. His clothing had greens, yellows, and browns. He often preyed on fear, and often employed exsanguination in his kills. "He refused to fear us, he refused to take our threats seriously."

"We gave him so much, did so much for him," said Omi Mallory. His voice was like a typhoon, and his clothing was composed of blues and whites. His chosen weapons was a mysterious orb and a trident. He preyed often on guilt, and he often employed fluid suffocation in his kills. "And this betrayal is how he repays us."

"He knows the sacrifices that we've made for him to succeed. He could have been the greats one of us -- might have even earned a spot on the tribunal." said Kimiko Samuels. Her voice was raspy and passionately furious, like a wildfire gone amuck. Her clothing consisted of blacks and golds. She often preyed on shame and often employed immolation in her kills. "And he just . . . throws it all away. For nothing . . ."

"He doesn't even realize what he's lost by going astray," said Raimundo Ryder. His voice was wispy and insubstantial, like an indifferent breeze. His clothing consisted of tans and browns, with some reds and oranges. He often preyed on the grieving and often employed asphyxiation in his kills. "He probably believes that he doesn't even miss this noble line of work."

"He's lying to himself." said Audrey Lynch. Her voice had an odd sort of warble to it, an inconsistent quaver. Her clothing consisted of very muted, insubstantial colors. She often preyed on self-deception, and often employed psychological manipulation and mistruths in her kills, leading to many of them looking like suicides. "And he doesn't even realize it."

"He may feel disillusioned with our work here," said Thomas Blight. His voice was bright, but concealed a darker undertone. His clothes were very bright with dark trim. He often preyed disillusionment, and often employed misdirection and sleight of hand in his kills. "Such a pity. Such a waste of talent."

"Then I think it is agreed," said Bebe Goldberg, the Grand Headmaster of the League of Assassins -- their apex leader. Her robes and attire seemed to be woven from Demiguise fur that had become opaque with age. No one knew her prey preferences, nor what she preferred to employ in her kills. She was a mystery in this regard. "This betrayer must pay. But we needn't muddy our own hands with this work -- the initiates should prove sufficient to slay the Blue Prodigy."

She rapped on her chair, and said, with a commanding tone. "Send in the initiates to receive their mission!"

[Cloak]

Basically gonna rewrite my outline for this book. It's another one that's gonna be "off-script". And, yes, it's gonna be a Blue book. I may not get a chapter up tomorrow -- being my birthday and all. And come the 17th, Memoirs might be on a hiatus, in lieu of Pokemon Ultra Sun.

New chapter.

CHAPTER THREE:
Blue Pilgrimage

The trees swayed in the morning breeze. There was a light fog around the area on this brisk August morning. The grass rippled in a pleasing and lovely manner. It was almost as if it was a movie location.

This was Blue's favorite spot when it came to any pilgrimage he had to take away from the forum. It was just ideal spot for fasting and meditation. For reflecting upon his past and consider his future.

And he does so, even armed with the knowledge. The knowledge that they will come after him again. But the seven cowards would not deign to face him themselves. No, they would send initiate after initiate after initiate. Sending them with the intention of assassinating him. Only he was well aware of this, and suspected that they were trying to goad him into killing people, to garner a high kill count, knowing his distaste for kill counts.

Blue found keeping kill counts as if they were a scoreboard disrespectful and juvenile. It was part of the reason he abandoned the League of Assassins, despite being trained by them in all the tenets and forms of ninjutsu -- horsemanship, stick and staff techniques, tactics, geography, espionage, disguise and impersonation, escaping and concealment, pyrotechnics, sword techniques, kusarigama techniques, naganata techniques, spiritual refinement, stealth and infiltration, throwing weapon techniques, spear techniques, water training, unarmed combat, meteorology, and even Fudoza, or Immovable Seat. He proved to be proficient in all these, though preferring some above others.

He had no real expectation of having a peaceful time -- time was due for those idiotic and incompetent Headmasters at the League to send more initiates to try and kill him. He had always bested them, as he done with the last batch. His training as a RAFian only served to increase his skill. But the main difference between RAF and the League was he found his life as a RAFian more fulfilling. Weird at times, yes, but still fulfilling nonetheless.

Blue found an ideal spot in which to meditate and wait for the first initiate to come for him. Some may have decried his entire attitude throughout this whole thing, in waiting for them to come to him. Some may inquire why he doesn't just go take the fight to them, these Headmasters.

To that, Blue would simply inquire why would he do that? When they come to him, he has the advantage. He would have chosen the battlegrounds. He would know the terrain. To go into whatever citadel the Headmasters decided to be League headquarters, he would be giving up home field advantage. He did not have the kind of raw, brute power that Esty or Cloak had. He was not a one-man army. And these were the people who taught Blue every technique he knew, aside from the ones he picked up at the forum, of course. But that did not mean they taught him everything that they knew. Not to mention that he'd be outnumbered greatly, and yada yada yada.

Besides, he was well prepared to deal with the initiates. They always came one at a time, as if this was a video game. Blue supposed that it was because that the Tribunal could not evaluate all their initiates at once. This was a liability, one that the Tribunal apparently never understood. But Blue had no intention on revealing it to them.

Just let them come, and Blue would handle them just fine. He surmised that there'd be nineteen or twenty gunning for him this time -- that's about how many there were about a year or two ago. He sighed as he shook his head. If the Tribunal was really as great and mighty like they pretend, then they'd go and do their own dirty work. They'd be a challenge. But these initiates are too green, and Blue never killed any of them.

This infuriated the Tribunal, who killed them themselves, Blue surmised sadly. Many of these initiates were just stupid kids or lost souls looking for something to be part of, something greater than themselves. And the Tribunal preyed on that.

[DinosaurNothlit]

OMG, it took me waaaay longer than it should have to figure out that "the Blue prodigy" was Blue.  Even when you just straight up said "it's gonna be a Blue book," my brain was like, "you mean, like, for cars?" and I was super-confused. 

But I'm finally back on track now.  And I'm feeling sorry for those poor initiates who keep getting sent to kill Blue.    Couldn't he, I dunno, kidnap them to keep them from going back to the Tribunal where they'd be killed?

[Cloak]

But I'm finally back on track now.  And I'm feeling sorry for those poor initiates who keep getting sent to kill Blue.    Couldn't he, I dunno, kidnap them to keep them from going back to the Tribunal where they'd be killed?

The Tribunal would then send fully-fledged assassins after them, if they did not return. One way or another, they'd wind up dead. It's a security type of thing.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FOUR:
The Untrained Initiate

Blue was seated, eyes closed. Any time now. They'll be showing up any time now.

"Are you . . . um," said a voice. Blue knew right away that this person before him was not a trained assassin. "Um . . . are you the 'Blue Prodigy'?"

"I do not answer to such a name anymore," Blue said, still seated, eye shut.

"Then prepared to die!" came the voice, "Die to the Pulverized -- er, I mean, Pulverizer!"

Blue actually opened his eyes, to see what appeared to be a small, scrawny teenager in a bargain barrel ninja costume. He carried a poor man's polearm, and Blue could see from the way he carried it, that he wasn't skilled with it at all. He was covered from head to foot, although his shoes were heavy black boots. Blue guessed that he was fifteen, maybe sixteen. And he was trying to join the League of Assassins. Why?

"Kid -- don't do this," Blue said, with a tone of warning.

"Don't grovel," the kid crowed, thinking Blue was scared rather than pitying. "Just die."

Blue was a tad disappointed, he had to admit. This first initiate, this kid clearly was ashigaru sha -- cannon fodder. The Assassin Tribunal had no expectation of this initiate succeeding. Blue couldn't help but feel sorry for the kid.

"Don't do this, kid," Blue repeated, "it won't end well for you."

"Just die!" he said, posing like he thought he was the ultimate badass. In reality, he just looked childish.

Then the boy attacked Blue, who used the techniques of Fudoza, not only repelling the attack but knocking the boy flat on his butt. It was too easy, and, again, Blue pitied the boy.

The boy attacked again, but he was no match for Blue's seated combat. It was difficult to tell whether this was just sad and pathetic, or . . . no, that was it. It was sad and pathetic. This untrained boy stood no chance to one proficient in all the forms of ninjutsu.

But it was in this second attack that Blue pulled out a small item, like a button-sized Ender Eye. This was the means the Tribunal used to monitor their initiates, like a body cam. Blue proved just how insanely fragile and delicate it was by smashing it between his index finger and thumb, as if it was a bug. The Tribunal was cut off.

The kid looked furious, until his body convulsed ever so slightly. If you weren't aware what was happening, the convulsions would have gone unnoticed. When he spoke, it was clear that someone else was in charge.

"Whoa! Blue, don't worry, i got him," the kid said. His voice didn't change, though the intonation, word choice, and mannerisms were vastly different. "I got him."

"Goose!" Blue said, with irate indignation. Blue stood, upset at the implication. "I can handle a sixteen-year-old kid."

"Well, sixteen and three-quarters," Goose said.

Blue said shrewdly, "Is he awake?"

"Nah, I put him to sleep when I got in," Goose said.

"What's the kid's name?"

Goose pulled the kid's mask down, and pulled off the hood. He revealed the boy's babyface and mop of red hair. "Pearson Alan Gaynes, but he hates his first name, so he goes by Alan."

"How'd Alan get into this mess?" Blue asked.

Goose scrounged around Alan's mind. This was horribly invasive, but Alan wouldn't remember any of it, as long as his mind remained "asleep". That is to say, his consciousness remaining unconscious.

"He was boastful," Goose said. "He also wanted to be part of something bigger. His life, at least in his view, is horribly mundane and he has a small, but rather neglectful family. So he became an initiate in this League of Assassins thing. He didn't seem to notice how expendable they thought he was."

"And, in the end, that just might save his life," Blue said.

"How's that?"

"The League might not think he's worthy enough to kill," Blue said. "Goose, take him home, will you? No, no -- don't get out just yet. Take him home and watch him. See if anyone decides to come after him."

"And you?" he said, his newly worn face showing concern. "More are coming, you know. Alan guessed there were about eighteen others."

"I'm prepared," Blue said. "But this kid had no idea what he was getting into. He has no training."

"Other than video games, yeah, that's true," Goose agreed.

"Take him home. Make sure he's safe," Blue said. "When he's clear, he should be safe at that point. Hopefully, the Tribunal would think he's not worth the time."

[DinosaurNothlit]

He . . . wanted to be part of something bigger?  Does the Tribunal happen to have ties to the Sharing, or do they just use similar recruitment techniques? 

[Cloak]

Actually, they tend to be far broader, and, sometimes, more direct and to the point than the Sharing. They will employ the same recruitment strategies if they work, however.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIVE:
The Bajutsu Initiate

Blue watch Empress Goose take Alan back home, while still inside. The boy was presumably still asleep within his own head, unaware his body was temporarily being piloted by someone else. Blue felt that there was still hope for him. Not all the initiates that the Tribunal sent after him were in a good enough position.

The Tribunal preyed on anything to get them to he able to use a person's skill or promise to their own ends. Any profit any of the assassins' make, they take a cut of. Currently, it at least 83% of the payout went to them, with a 12% additional cut for . . . "expenses". And once you're a member of the League, you never leave alive. Blue, to his knowledge, was the only one to escape.

But lost and misguided souls like Alan weren't the only thing that this depraved Tribunal took advantage of. They would exploit anything they could if they saw promise, or skill, or trait that they could manipulate to their advantage. They didn't care for their initiates, though, nor the people they hurt. They use the falsehood of family to ingratiate themselves into the prospective initiate's inner circle. To get close to them to either manipulate or outright kidnap them.

They are not above kidnapping babies from their parents, either. That's how Blue came to be with them. He had not known anything more than what they taught him. But he had a conscience. And, for years he had successfully hid it from them.

Yes, those galloping steps behind him. He heard them quite plainly. He was anticipating this. The initiate wore a purplish-black ninja outfit with a tightly woven blonde hair into a ponytail, that trailed out behind her.

The female initiate was apparently a student of bajutsu, the ninjutsu art of horseriding and combat from horseback. And she showed how very much green she was at it, opting for back of the hand claws instead of a sword. And her technique, while haughty and overconfident, showed slack and undisciplined control. All these initiates, all poorly trained. The League was clearly not what it was, Blue opined, with the quality of these new recruits.

She sat astride a huge winged horse with a skeletal ebony body, gaunt face with reptilian features, and wide, leathery wings that resemble a bat's. A thestral. A magical creature that can only be scene by those who have witnessed death with comprehension. And Blue had, so he could see the thestral quite clearly. Given the rarity of such a creature, this might have contributed to the initiate's arrogance and overconfidence.

Blue saw the way she rode the thestral, which she called Deathwing, and saw she was a superb equestrian. She had some defined and nuanced skills with horseriding, clearly having some professional expertise with this. Perhaps she was a professional equestrian from a rich, elitist background who fell onto harder times. This would fit with what Blue knew of the Tribunal. If her skills were sufficient to their goals and aims, they would gladly exploit her in such a scenario. But this was all speculation.

First things first, he would have to defeat her before he would be able to talk any sort of sense into her. And that would first involve getting her to either willingly or involuntarily dismounting the beast. Not a particularly easy task given her apparent experience with riding horses. She was probably prepared for if Deathwing tries to throw her off. Hell, thestrals don't even spook easy, according to the RAFian database entry for them.

So, he would have to be more proactive in this. He climbed a tree to a point where she lost track of him. Then he dived off the tree, taking her unawares, tackling her off the horse.

"What are you waiting for?" she said. Deathwing didn't retaliate against Blue, it even seemed indifferent. What connection between the two Blue had assumed existed wasn't there. Upon closer inspection, Blue was the creature bore the scars of being cowed into submission -- likely the Tribunal's handiwork. It sickened him. "Be a man and do it all ready."

She was talking about Blue killing her for this defeat. What did you think she was talking about?

"No," Blue said. "I haven't killed the initiates sent before you, and I won't kill you."

She laughed scornfully, "Mercy. Mercy ruins lives."

She turned away, and Blue noticed that she was still wearing the Tribunal's assessment camera. "Bah, mercy! Mercy is what caused Pretiakiskoa Pharmaceuticals to go under!"

Sounded like she had a personal stake in that matter.

"It doesn't matter anyway," she said, bitterly, "I failed. The Tribunal is gonna kill me anyway."

She was clearly very affluent before becoming an initiate and became poor some time before becoming an initiate. The Tribunal could have even arranged for Pretiakiskoa Pharmaceuticals to go under just to get this bajutsu initiate.

But, before Blue could stop her, she took her life. She apparently just wanted, for once, to do things on her terms, instead of someone else's.

[Cloak]

New chapter.

CHAPTER SIX:
The Tenmon Initiate

Blue tried to care for the initiate's body respectfully. Hopefully, she had loved ones in which to mourn for her -- but that was not the frequent case for initiate assassins for the League. The Tribunal liked having their initiates without strings whenever possible, even if they had to make it so through . . . less than orthodox means.

Deathwing took an interest in the initiate after she spilled her own blood. Thestrals are carnivorous, after all. But Blue managed to dissuade the stallion thestral from snacking upon his former rider's now stiffening and decomposing rider. Blue sighed heavily. This was not the first initiate sent after him to decide to take their own lives. He always tried to stop them every time. But every time the moment took him unaware, and he was too late to stop it.

He left the League because the spilling of innocent blood (and how it had devolved into little more than a scorecard game in which each kill was considered a point). He had tried to get away from this. Away from this kind of life. Why couldn't the Tribunal just allow him that small respite? But he knew the answer already.

Just like the initiates, as well as the full assassin staff, the Tribunal just considered him nothing -- nothing -- more than property. A thing to be owned, a thing to be possessed, as if he were nothing more than a tool to meet their ends. He realise this soon enough to break his own indoctrination.

"You might as well come out," Blue said. He was aware that he was being watched by another initiate after he moved on from the spot where the other one, the bajutsu initiate, took her own life. "You can't really use tenmon here."

Blue had made the assumption based on this initiate's behavior that he was a tenmon, the ninjutsu art of meteorology -- that is, using the weather to your advantage -- initiate. He clearly was still very green at it.

He wore a ninja outfit that, like the bajutsu initiate, looked as if it was big-budget movie quality. Impressive, though his stealth and use of tenmon left much to be desired.

Cover blown, he immediately moved to attack Blue, who sighed sadly. Why do they always resort to fighting fights that they couldn't win? Have they lost all grasp of reality? He was known as the most proficient fighter to come out of the League. Perhaps the Tribunal decided to severely downplay it to get willing initiates. Eventually, word would get out -- the Tribunal would run out of initiates.

Blue failed to take into regard how he himself came to be with the League of Assassins with this thought. He believed that they would eventually run out of initiates -- but they wouldn't if they weren't above kidnapping babies of potential from their parents.

Blue easily used his Shredder-like bladed grieves -- a fairly new acquisition for him -- to block the tenmon initiate's sword, and disarm him. Even managing to catch the sword midair.

"Do it," he said, defeated.

"No," Blue said. "I will not kill you. I will not kill you just to satisfy the whims of seven egotistical out-of-practice assassins with god complexes."

"We're a family," he said, sounding like a child making excuses for an abusive alcoholic parent.

"Family?" Blue said, rounding on the initiate. This initiate sounded as if he was in his twenties, but also sounded as if he was indoctrinated for a long time. "The Tribunal uses you to obtain that which they desire. They care nothing for you, or the people you hurt!"

The initiate looked unconvinced. Ugh -- people would rather be right than do right. Stupid human nature.

"I will not kill you," Blue said, turning his back on him. This was insult in and of itself, because by presenting such an obvious target to him, he was saying that he didn't consider the initiate a threat, even though he was unarmed. "If you consider the Tribunal truly 'family', watch how they treat you now that your little mission has failed."

Blue sighed. "But they'll kill you, then. So I advise against it. But the choice is yours to make, not mine."