A/N: Well. I didn't mean to introduce a new character. But oops. I did.
Well, we will all see what happens soon as I get the next part up. Trying
to keep the PG rating too. Gack. Thanks for the reviews all, as usual, any
suggestions are my friend.
~Lynn
I was sweating. Drips of it poured down my face. Perhaps however, it would be more appropriate to say that Frenrash was sweating. I still felt the sweat, and smelled it unfortunately. I also felt the exhaustion he was causing my body. I/he was running, and I/had been running for the last hour. I tried to concentrate on something besides my aching joints, my burning lungs and my dry, sore mouth and throat. However, Frenrash kept things at the front of my mind. I would not refer to it as his mind. It was the one thing that was still mine. I still had my mind.
You'd like to think that.he laughed at me, and began to sift through my memories. He went through my memories of the boy, Marco. Short, dark hair, annoying. Screaming about Yeerks. I noted he seemed to have some Hispanic ancestry. Frenrash dismissed that information.
We're going to talk to Melfank, she'll know how to proceed.Frenrash seemed to delight in informing me.
I don't know who this is, but it seems to me, you should contact the Yeerk Pool.I wondered why I was giving him advice. Did I want him to succeed? Perhaps I just didn't want him to get my body killed.
And hand this news to the Yeerk above me? On a silver platter. I think not. This will be my glory. Mine and my sisters. I would have rolled my eyes at his dreams of conquest and victory and rising in the Yeerk Empire. Except of course, I could no longer roll my eyes.
Out of the corner of our eyes, we spotted the owl again. Frenrash was giddy. He was certain that this was an "Andalite Bandit" following him. He always managed to add the quotations to the term with his thought speak voice. And in my mind, he found the information that this type of owl was very rare in these parts. I hated myself for having so much information, not for the first time, mind you. But I hated myself more this time. If this was one of them, they were on my side. The last thing I wanted to do was give him or her away. Admittedly, I did not have a lot of control over what /I/ did or did not do anymore.
Finally, Frenrash quit running and flung my body down on a park bench. We had run to one of the seedier parts of town. We had had to sneak out of school, because of course Frenrash didn't want the other Yeerks to know what he was up to. I imagined myself sneaking out of school, going of to play Dungeons and Dragons with several friends, meeting a girl who like to role-play. It could have been that way, I thought. Frenrash constructed his own fantasy of handing the Andalite Bandits to Visser Three. I preferred mine.
I/he started when an old man came, practically out of the bushes. I started to figure up this old man'' stealth score in my head. I couldn't help it, thinking about role-playing caused me to miss it.
Be useful, host he snapped at me. He directed my/his eyes towards the man. He was so tall, and old and gnarly. I imagined he could be a wizard. A wizard to rescue me from this slug in my brain. He was dressed, however, not in wizard's robes, but in rags. Something that used to be a sweatshirt and jeans, I presumed. And a baseball cap. A Cubs cap, to be specific.
So. Mr. Logical. Who is this?
I can only assume this is whom you came here to meet. Or it might be a homeless man. I wanted to glare at him. And then the man did something amazing. He hit me/us.
"Sorry, man," I heard him whisper under his breath. "But, I know you're dying to thank me."
ANDALITE! Frenrash screamed, before his/my frail and now exhausted body gave out.
~Lynn
I was sweating. Drips of it poured down my face. Perhaps however, it would be more appropriate to say that Frenrash was sweating. I still felt the sweat, and smelled it unfortunately. I also felt the exhaustion he was causing my body. I/he was running, and I/had been running for the last hour. I tried to concentrate on something besides my aching joints, my burning lungs and my dry, sore mouth and throat. However, Frenrash kept things at the front of my mind. I would not refer to it as his mind. It was the one thing that was still mine. I still had my mind.
You'd like to think that.he laughed at me, and began to sift through my memories. He went through my memories of the boy, Marco. Short, dark hair, annoying. Screaming about Yeerks. I noted he seemed to have some Hispanic ancestry. Frenrash dismissed that information.
We're going to talk to Melfank, she'll know how to proceed.Frenrash seemed to delight in informing me.
I don't know who this is, but it seems to me, you should contact the Yeerk Pool.I wondered why I was giving him advice. Did I want him to succeed? Perhaps I just didn't want him to get my body killed.
And hand this news to the Yeerk above me? On a silver platter. I think not. This will be my glory. Mine and my sisters. I would have rolled my eyes at his dreams of conquest and victory and rising in the Yeerk Empire. Except of course, I could no longer roll my eyes.
Out of the corner of our eyes, we spotted the owl again. Frenrash was giddy. He was certain that this was an "Andalite Bandit" following him. He always managed to add the quotations to the term with his thought speak voice. And in my mind, he found the information that this type of owl was very rare in these parts. I hated myself for having so much information, not for the first time, mind you. But I hated myself more this time. If this was one of them, they were on my side. The last thing I wanted to do was give him or her away. Admittedly, I did not have a lot of control over what /I/ did or did not do anymore.
Finally, Frenrash quit running and flung my body down on a park bench. We had run to one of the seedier parts of town. We had had to sneak out of school, because of course Frenrash didn't want the other Yeerks to know what he was up to. I imagined myself sneaking out of school, going of to play Dungeons and Dragons with several friends, meeting a girl who like to role-play. It could have been that way, I thought. Frenrash constructed his own fantasy of handing the Andalite Bandits to Visser Three. I preferred mine.
I/he started when an old man came, practically out of the bushes. I started to figure up this old man'' stealth score in my head. I couldn't help it, thinking about role-playing caused me to miss it.
Be useful, host he snapped at me. He directed my/his eyes towards the man. He was so tall, and old and gnarly. I imagined he could be a wizard. A wizard to rescue me from this slug in my brain. He was dressed, however, not in wizard's robes, but in rags. Something that used to be a sweatshirt and jeans, I presumed. And a baseball cap. A Cubs cap, to be specific.
So. Mr. Logical. Who is this?
I can only assume this is whom you came here to meet. Or it might be a homeless man. I wanted to glare at him. And then the man did something amazing. He hit me/us.
"Sorry, man," I heard him whisper under his breath. "But, I know you're dying to thank me."
ANDALITE! Frenrash screamed, before his/my frail and now exhausted body gave out.