Once upon a time, I posted a chapter to a story on called "For just how long"... well, I thought I posted a story, at least. In reality, I posted a rough draft... and somehow didn't notice for months. I read said posted rough draft, and it was horrible... it hurt to read. Gahh... so many typos... (Like... really bad typos... lord...) and there was even a paragraph in a different tense because I hadn't decided which one I wanted to write in yet...
Well, here is an updated version... please read, even if you already have, it will probably be more comprehendible this time around... hopefully.
Just how long had she been laying on that couch?
The girl with the peculiar blonde hair softly tapped her feet against the couch's empty spot next to her. The thick woven socks that hugged her feet danced under the spotlight of a dim book lamp that cast long shadows on the smooth, cool leather.
Deep rays of moonlight soaked in through the curtains and splashed up against the white walls of the living room and painted them a light sea blue, the color of gentle ocean waves. She tightly hugged the book in her lap with the sleeves of her long sweater, which covered past her wrists- she'd grown accustomed to clothes like those in the past couple of years.
The girl sighed into her book. She had lost her place. She contemplated simply not continuing on with the story before her, so she looked up from her book for the first time in hours. The novel in her lap was of the agonizingly tragic sorts- with a worn and tired paperback spine from constant re-reading. She gazed at the sleepy moon outside through the blueish, frost chilled window, trying to find the motivation to pick up where she had left off.
It'd taken her at least a year or two to grow accustomed to not seeing a trio of moons when she looked up into the sky- like it was on her home world of Galaluna. Even so, she grew to love the single, lonely moon in the skies of Earth, whose name was simply moon.
She missed seeing the other two in the sky, but she supposed she could accept their absences. In exchange, she'd received two wonderful, although equally troublesome, additions to her family.
Faint sounds from the bedroom upstairs seeped from under the door, and into the living room. A song, slow and sad, emitted from a guitar played by a soul equally as such. The notes that resonated in the air were so thick, that the girl thought she might be able to snatch one up with her hands.
The music was soft and hushed, like the boy playing was attempting not awaken anyone by playing at such a late hour. It mattered little, however. The person dwelling in the room next to his was a robot, and did not require such a trivial thing as sleep, and the girl downstairs had become more accustomed to the night, as of late.
The stress of the frequenting Mutradi attacks had began to take their toll, and she rarely got to bed before sometime closer to morning, rather than night.
The music came to a gentle stop, and the girl raised up her novel and tried to find her place in silence until the door upstairs carefully creaked open, but a moment later. Out peered a boy with hair so black, it camouflaged almost perfectly in the night air. The girl could hardly see his face, as the long, mournful locks draped over his features.
The wood stairs quietly creaked as he walked down with feathered steps.
"I didn't know you were still awake," he said softly as he stopped at the bottom of the staircase. His eyes were wide from sleeplessness, and although his gaze seemed slightly disconnected- as if it were looking somewhere far away- she could tell there was compassion in the way he looked at her. She could tell he cared, and that made her feel... better.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up, Ilana."
Ilana closed her book and gazed at him with sleepy eyes. She couldn't see his face in the dark, but she was familiar with it from the years she'd spent near him. "No, you didn't wake me," she said with a yawn.
His eyebrows raised. "That's strange, you used to go to sleep right on time, if I remember correctly," he said, and began to chuckle under his breath. "You said bedtime was a rule, right?" He tiredly added, "we can't break the rules, now can we, Princess? Certainly can't have any of that."
The girl didn't say anything right away. "Lance..."
The boy picked up on the slightest change of tone in her voice, and became instantly concerned. An old habit. "Is something wrong, Ilana?" He cautiously came towards her.
"So overly protective, Corporal," she teased half heartedly. Lance came to sit by her, and she moved over and offered him a spot on the couch, but he had already sat down on a short stool placed nearby.
They paused. Ilana took a subtle breath before speaking. "Lance," she said. She exhaled and paused momentarily, reconsidering her words. "Do you think they'll ever send for us?"
"Yes, of course. This war is..."
"Lance..." she said, her voice soft, but stern. "What do you really think?"
"What do I really think?"
"Yes."
"Of the war?"
"Yes... based on what we know, what we can gather here. As a soldier, and as a friend, how... how do you think the fight back on our home is going?"
Lance leaned forward and clasped his hands together before giving an answer. His thick hair draped over his face and shielded him in a shroud.
"What you honestly think, Lance?" Ilana said again.
Lance sighed deeply. "Based on the fact that they're still sending Mutradi beasts here shows that there is a resistance movement. But based on the strength and quantity of the beasts they send shows they are still winning against said resistance." He paused. "Actually, I'm not even sure if them still sending beasts actually means there is a resistance. It could be based on pride... they may already have complete control over Galaluna, and they want to take us out using a Mutradi beast purely for the purpose of doing it."
"So, what you're saying is..."
Lance stopped, but she nodded for him to go on.
"Galaluna had one of the most powerful armies in the known galaxy... but the ability to weaponize, and to control Mutradi mega beasts isn't like anything that's ever existed before. The only thing that can combat them is Titan, and possibly other armors. But the first thing that the Mutradi would have done after taking over the capital would be to destroy all of the armor back home... without those, the resistance probably is fighting with only small arms. Given how long it's been without any faltering in their routines of sending things through the rift gate... I have to assume that the resistance hasn't had any luck, and has either been crushed or gone into hiding. The chances of Galaluna prevailing in our lifetime... are-well..."
He stopped after realizing the gravity of the words he'd said.
"So, it really is hopeless..."
"No, princess... it's..."
"Hopeless," the girl said flatly, a tone which caught the corporal by surprise.
"What kind of attitude is that? The Ilana I know would never give up hope."
"But Lance, is there a difference between hope and lying to yourself?"
The words disarmed the soldier momentarily.
"Just... how long have we been waiting here for them to send for us? How long are we going to wait here?"
"As long as it takes," Lance said sternly. Ilana stared at him, but he still had his face covered. "The moment we lose hope is the moment we lose the fight, right? Well, I've never lost a fight in my life," The soldier cowered underneath his hair for moment more before looking up,"so... so don't you go ruining my perfect record, alright?"
The girl grew a tired smile. Her corporal had grown to express himself over the years, even if his skills were still rudimentary. "Thank you, Lance."
"Hang in there, Princess," he said. The girl stood up and stretched out her arms.
"I think I'll try and get some sleep," she said. "Goodnight, Lance."
"Goodnight, Ilana," he said quietly, as the girl walked up the stairs with tired steps.
The Corporal sat in the lonely darkness, unaware of how long, until he got around to doing what he originally set out to, and stood up and headed to the bathroom.
He creaked open the bathroom door and turned the lights on. His eyes shuttered and refused to adjust to the burning. He heard a loud thump from upstairs, something being kicked over and knocking against the hardwood floor, which he thought nothing of, as he squinted and tried to adjust to the change.
He noticed the door bathroom cabinet above the sink laid open, which was odd for a house with Ilana present, who was always keeping things in order. He reached to close it, but his eye was caught by a bright orange tube of little white capsules.
He examined the little plastic cylinder with the white lid and read the marked label, his eyes drawn towards the word antidepressants.
He stared blankly at the bottle. He wasn't sure how they got there. They weren't his, and they certainly weren't Octus'. He didn't know for how long, but he looked upon the orange plastic bottle with a worried gaze, as if it would reveal something extraordinary to him if he did. He eventually decided to hold onto it and talk about it to its owner in the morning.
He shut the cabinet to leave, and stared directly into the mirror on the other side of the door that revealed itself as the cabinet shut.
Tiny white pills scattered across the bathroom floor as the dropping orange plastic hit the bathroom tile, but he paid them no mind. With sad, tired hands, he ran his fingers against his face and against the lines that surrounded his features, which he'd tried to forget about along with his quickly graying head of once fully black hair.
He stared at the mirror, unaware of the time around him melting away.
Just how long have they been stuck on this planet?
Well, as always, thank you all for reading. -JDLance/JDWrite/Whoever I am, can't keep track.
This story is written by and is the property of JDWrite, who does not own, nor claim to own Sym-Bionic Titan. JDW is not in association with Genndy Tartakovsky, Cartoon Network, or any other respectable owners of the franchise. No copyright infringement intended.
(This is me trying to sound official... cool, huh?)
