Well, being sick has messed with my energy levels and my sleep pattern. But, in between all of the coughing, nose blowing and resembling a walking zombie, I have managed to keep writing although very, very slowly.
As I was writing tonight, something occurred to me.
All of the personnel on Moonbase Alpha are a mess.
For all intents and purposes, Helena's a widow despite her husband being transformed into a different type of living matter, anti-matter – oh who even knows? Trust me, it's confusing but sadly, I can relate to the widow part.
John's a widower.
Poor Sandra, every man she touches either gets left behind on Earth, gets sucked into a black hole or disappears into the unknown regions of space.
I haven't yet tackled Alan's backstory and while I know what I've got cooked up for Tony, his backstory isn't singing zippity-doo-dah either.
And Maya, well let's see now, her mother passed away at some earlier point, her father was deranged, her brother went off into the vast regions of space – never to be heard from again and her whole planet blew up.
Every other Alphan was ripped from their families forever. Wives, husbands, children, moms, dads – you name it.
Oh yes, Moonbase Alpha is manned by a staff of walking, emotionally F-d up people.
And here I am, insanely diving into it all and I'm actually finding it intriguing, fun and I kind of like it. What does that say about Twisted Sister? It says Thank Goodness it is only a fictional fandom.
Okay, reality calls and it is bedtime. Told you, my energy levels are still at sucketh level.
One more little tidbit for you all until I get back to posting.
Tony slowly turned around to face the Commander, his back still pressed against the wall. Gradually, his body sank downward, the friction of the wall offering him steady support because his own legs surely weren't. His legs bent at the knees, folding as he descended. Eventually, he reached the floor, his exhausted body curling into itself. He drew his knees up to his chest, his arms resting on them, then buried his face in his hands, avoiding eye contact.
Tony's voice, when he finally spoke, sounded more like a desperate groan. "Why didn't you tell me, John?"
John sat down on the floor beside him. "About Maya?"
Tony nodded.
"She wanted to tell you herself, in her own way," John said. "She felt you deserved to know the truth first, before anyone else."