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Post by Elijah Townsend on Feb 17, 2012 23:32:52 GMT -5
Yep, I'll need a new pen soon. Wonder if the Animorphs have their own pens... --
"It's rather quiet today on board the Sanctuary today. I wonder, who named this ship? It is appropriately named in a way since we're safe from the Yeerks here, but who thought of that as a ship name? I thought ship names were supposed to be more bombastic or something. Ah well-- America is never what she seems. In other news, I believe I've met almost everyone in the Animorphs now. Good lot-- I like them. I think good things are going to come out of a group like this.
"I'm still growing used to being an Animorph. How does one get accustomed to being able to morph into different animals? The bit of practice I've been doing here and there has helped, but everything still has a newness to it. Is newness a word? Doesn't sound right. Either way, or anyway, I still feel like a bit of an outsider to all this. The Animorphs have been around for years now (how many?) and I'm only just learning. Everyday, I'm learning something new. It's fantastic, but frightening all the same. The world gets a bit bleaker everyday after seeing the effects of alien invasion-- never thought I'd use that phrase."
All of these ramblings, and more, went into a blue journal in the form of messy script. Elijah was pretty sure he'd had to find a new pen sooner or later since this one was running out of ink. He found himself writing things down, jotting notes about proper morphing technique, sketching morphs, and generally just keeping a tab on his thoughts. Someday, he'd look back and read these entries to remember what he was doing, and possibly how he helped save the world. Maybe he'd show his grandchildren and tell them grand stories-- or not. Whoever knew? Thinking about the future was dangerous, especially something like that.
Elijah paused, twisting the pen in-between his fingers. He had already explored a good chunk of the ship, and he met most of the people on board. He knew he didn't get everyone, but Animorphs were busy people! Everyday, something was going on. It was almost miraculous that nothing seemed to be happening today. Seemed. Key word there. [/font]
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