Went to KFC to get ice cream. As I waited for it I look a look at the poster advertising the children’s meals. And I saw that. Nearly started bawling right there in the restaurant.
I cannot get over how perfect it is that she’s on either side of him. In front of him: always the first into battle. But behind him too, because Jake was her leader until the very end.
I just have a lot of Animorph feels right now, okay??!?
In case you can’t see, the picture is of three animal trading cards. From left to right is an African Elephant, a Peregrine Falcon and a Bald Eagle.
only in the animorphs fandom will you find people getting an intense surge of the FEELS caused by a seemingly random combination of animals.
Cassie hugging a giant salamander for Anthony. :3
Here’s a Rachel sketch to make you feel better except wait
Grizzly bear cub ft. wolf pup
A BABY WOLF AND A BABY BEAR. NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. I CAN’T.
no one will ever know the significance of wolves and bears to me.
marco aggressively spamming rachel with links to pictures from eroticfalconry.com
“But even I have enough sense to know the words “we have to win” are the first four steps on the road to hell.”
- Rachel, Animorphs: The Underground
I swear, every single person I’ve met in my generation who knows what thermals are read Animorphs when they were younger.
It’s like a secret handshake.
< Whale-song >
My name is Cassie.
I am an Animorph. That’s the name we made for ourselves. Or actually, it’s the name Marco made up for us.
But you know that.
Everyone knows that. I’ve been on every news station, every talk show, every magazine at least twice. We all have.
Or, rather, most of us. Rachel is dead. Tobias flew away.
Again, you know that. We’re household names at this point. Everyone knows the story of brave warrior Rachel who lost her life protecting freedom. Everyone knows of strong commander Jake who led us, unwavering, to victory. Of clever Tobias who could not take the loss of his love (his aunt and uncle have already published three best-selling biographies of his life). Of the brilliant tactician and strategist Marco who made the difficult decisions without remorse. Of loyal Aximili, who always sided with humanity. Of compassionate Cassie, who always retained humanity amidst the bloodshed.
In short, everyone knows nothing of us at all.
It’s been a few years since the official end of the war. Toby is still delegating living space arrangements for the Earth based Hork-Bajir colony (and intimidating politicians while she’s at it). Jake’s left with Marco on the Rachel to investigate the potential capture of Ax’s ship. I don’t know what happened to Tobias. I think he left with them.
I have dozen of prestigious political contacts, a hundred events to attend, thousands of interviews to give, millions of autographs to give.
I am all alone.
I set off, not really knowing where. I needed to get away from the interviewers, I guess. Eventually, I landed at a rocky little alcove on the beach, almost impossible to hike to.
I spotted a bag wedged under a little cave past the tide line.
It had badly weathered sandals, jeans, and a shirt in it. A young teen’s clothes.
I’d seen these before.
Rachel and Tobias must have visited this alcove often.
Suddenly, I found myself walking, jogging, running, bare feet (still hadn’t figured out how to morph shoes) bleeding over the wave-beaten rocks. I needed to go somewhere- anywhere- to get away from this. To get away from the memories. I stumbled and fell into the foam and waves.
Dolphin. That’s what I’d tried to get Jake to do. Dolphin, just to get away from these horrible memories. I focused on the image of the small cetacean, and within the minute I kicked my tail and powered myself into the deeper water.
About half an hour of aimless, giddy, energetic swimming later, I saw a form in the distance. Luckily, this wasn’t the Cretacious period (long story), it could only mean one thing.
Without really meaning to, I swim towards the whale.
Much to my surprise, it does the same.
< Cassie! It’s been a while > A telepathic voice greets me.
I’d heard that voice before. I’d heard that voice long ago as she opened my memories, as she’d learned the secret of the ‘Andalite Bandits’, as she’d commanded my wings to fly out of the forest. I’d heard that voice again as she’d helped me save Ax. I heard it, I thought for the final time, as she swam off into the ocean.
< Aftran, it’s good to see you.> I said.
I figured it’d be easier to converse if I could keep up with her, so in a few minutes two humpbacks swam further into the open ocean.
< The war, is it, has it ended? > Aftran inquires.
< Yes, it has. The Hork-Bajir are in Yellowstone. All the Taxxons are anaconda nothlits in various forests. Yeerks have either chosen a nothlit form, or joined the peace movement. Andalite tourism is a big thing. >
Did you know whales can chuckle?
<How is everyone?> she asks, more serious now.
I begin to tell her everything that’s happened since she left, about Tobias, and Jake, and Marco, and about Ax.
< And they haven’t returned for years? > she asks.
< They’re gone, Aftran. Even if they could return I don’t think they would. > I admit.
At some level I almost feel relieved- at least they’ve found a way out of the spiral of interviews and book signings and documentaries and people asking them to recount the ‘glorious’ battles from their perspective. Sheesh, Hollywood. It feels like the Iskroot homeword sometimes.
As we swim in no particular direction, as small, nagging part of my brain reminds me I need to demorph soon.
<So, have I told you about the new dome ship?> I continue. <It was named The Elfangor. >
Aftran has long forgotten specific measurements like hours, and we continue to talk as old friends. We talk for hours, long past the limit of demorphing.
There are worse fates.
I’m going to regret this later, aren’t I
Lookit how super cute and expressive these aaaaare.
Ahhh. CANNOT HANDLE.
(Seriously, one of the easiest ways to impress me is andalite fanart done well.)
So I tweeted to Michael Grant on Twitter and this mystery has finally been put to rest by Word Of God.
bless you, scott