[PRP] Something of a Space Oddity [Niner, Fab]

[Scaramouche Fandango]

The woods on the edge of Phony City were very inviting to a colt. Warp Nine found himself there quite often, going on away missions. "This is the Captain of Outer Space," he said into the combination of a slap bracelet and a cereal box prize he'd wrapped around his forehoof in imitation of a communicator. "Come in, come in! I am down on the alien planet, investigating the sentient fungus rumored to be here." He turned to face a particularly large mushroom and glared at it, pulling his squirt gun out of his utility belt and pointing it menacingly. "Fungus seems to be relatively inert; it doesn't seem to be responding to visual stimulus."

Visual stimulus would have been putting it lightly. Today, his chosen hazardous environment containment suit included an orange jumpsuit, a pair of red boots, a yellow cape, a lime green bandolier made out of a pice of white fabric he'd spent about five highlighters' worth of ink to color, his trusty space helmet, and a small globe-shaped trinket jammed onto the end of the antenna- his 'earth locator'. He could probably be seen from space, if the satellite or low orbit vehicle was close enough. Color theory was basically just an essay he'd read about Roddenberry's take on racism in the future.

As the colt attempted to catalog the area's fungus, something caught his attention. A snapping twig, some shuffling leaves- there was somebody else in the woods! He whirled around, neon cape flapping in the wind. "I- I come in peace! Who goes there? This planet was supposed to be uninhabited!"" he said, though he did keep his aim steady with the squirt gun.  

[theCorniest]

If the woods were inviting to the young colts of the city, they were the next best thing to home to Haute Couture. His family lived right on the edge of it, and his father hunted in it, and taught his children how to move about in it like a predator instead of prey. Of course, any lesson from Negative was best taken with a grain of salt, but his kids were only just starting to realize that fact.

So it came to pass that Haute Couture was (somewhat exaggeratedly, though silently) stalking through the woods nearer to town at the same time another young pegasus was. Or it was at the very least something shaped like another young pegasus. It was clad in a truly terrifying variety of garishly bright colors that seemed to follow no rhyme or reason, and clashed not only with themselves, but also with the colors of the poor thing's ridiculously bright hair.

Fab had never before encountered anything like this. It was so awful, so terrible, just so, so wrong, that he completely forgot about the silent part of his stalking and walked straight through a pile of leaves and over several twigs in order to confront the foul creature. As he stepped into its line of sight, Fab was very nearly turned back again by the nauseating aura of tackiness it radiated. But, the jagged-mouthed, dark-eyed pegasus steeled himself against the thing's fearsome radiance, took a deep breath, and said, "Nothing peaceful wears clothing like that. It is like you are waging war on my eyes, eugh."  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

"No, no, friend! You misunderstand! I'm the Captain of Outer Space, a representative of the Galactic Federation and I'm on a mission of exploration and discovery!"

The other colt clearly wasn't buying it, and Niner had one of those painful twinges of self-consciousness that all larpers get eventually when they realize somebody's staring at them. He smiled sheepishly and dropped the facade. "Actually, my name's Warp Nine, an' I really do come in peace. I didn't mean to be all up in your woods, it's just that it's a lot of fun back in here. But I don't know what you mean, I'm afraid. How am I waging war on your eyes?" He thought for a moment, then shook his head and wailed. "My mom promised me that this costume wasn't contaminated with space radiation! I mean, yeah, it was made in China or something, but she PROMISED!"  

[theCorniest]

Fab's grimace dropped into wide-eyed shock and regret as Warp Nine wailed. He shook his head and exclaimed, "Non, s'il te plaît, do not cry! She did not lie, it is not radiation. It's just... it's the colors," he stammered. "They are wrong together. The green on the orange especially - they hurt to look at too long." He stuck out a little of his tongue as he thought how to explain it. "If... if you look at it, the green on the orange, the edges look like they're shaking, trembling with violence. Nobody will ever believe your peaceful intentions if your space suit is making war with itself! And while that might mean lots of adventure, it also means a bad rap for your, what was it? Galactic Federation.

"Fortunately," he said, drawing up to his full (if small) height, "You have met the right phony. My name... is Haute Couture," he revealed with some measure of pride. This was obviously supposed to mean something.  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

Niner made a moue of confusion. "I guess they are the same color as laser weapons..." the colt said, staring at the plastic adorning his hide. It was very vivid- but then again, so was he, with his tri-colored hair and yellow pelt. What if HE was part of the problem? He'd have to ask, but carefully. But that could come later; the task at hand was to find out exactly what happened next.

"So... Haute Couture." He said the name carefully- he didn't have a universal translator, after all, and didn't want to upset the other colt even further by mispronouncing his name. "What exactly are you the right phony for?"

 

[theCorniest]

Niner's confusion let the wind out of his sails all over again. He puffed out a sigh and pushed his mane out of his eyes. "It... it is French," Haute explained. "Ze direct translation is 'high sewing,' zough I prefer to think of it as 'high fashion'. I make clothing and accessories." Which was sort of true - he could use the sewing machine with adult supervision, access to a growing collection of thread and fabric, and he had a sketchbook full of things he wanted to try to make. And he had made a few things, and they were perfectly serviceable even if - well, he was still learning, wasn't he?

Straightening again, he made the other foal an offer; "If you come to my 'ouse, we can pick fabrics and design a new suit for you. One that does not 'urt quite so much to look at," he finished with a wince. "Per'aps with... lightning bolts, or something."  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

"Lightning bolts are cool! Maybe in bright blue? Like, um... that ink color. Cyan!" The excited bubble of pegasus trotted alongside the mysterious little tailor- what a thing to find in the woods, an actual tailor! "My mom sometimes makes costumes and stuff, but never anything fancy enough to require French words. Chainmail- she does that a lot. I don't know how to make too much of anything- the only thing in this costume I made was my bandolier!" He was a chattery little thing, a twittering bird bouncing alongside his odd-eyed friend. "It was part of an old pillowcase at first- I just cut it off and colored it!" He realized as he was saying this that maybe this wasn't the safest confession to make. "Do your parents sew, too?"

Kitty Sprightt