• Published 30th Nov 2015
  • 3,752 Views, 67 Comments

Shaping Man - PheonixLyrics101



The world, slowly rebuilding from its faults is becoming more forgiving as you trek through life. But what may become of you is a completely different story. Care to discover what life may bring?

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Chapter 9

Author's Note:

Special thanks to my editor and friend Eurie. Without their help I wouldn't have been able to come out with something this good for you guys to enjoy. Eurie and I will be making chapters regularly and are going to make another tommorow. And I do apologise for not updating in quite some time. Things didn't go as planned lately and this is the first time in nearly a month th I am able to put aside time for writing. I'd still like to see if I can make my goal of 50,000 words by the end of the summer but it seems less and less likely as I look on. Any who, I hope you all enjoy and I bid you all adue.
~PheonixLyrics101

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~One and a half hours later (10:00 am)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walk down the hallway with your clothes in hand as you spot Daring running towards you, waving at you to hold the door to the elevator. She slows to a walk, hopping into the elevator beside you and breathing heavily as you greet her, looking towards her.

“Hey there Daring, what’s got you in such a rush? Oh — and what floor?”

“Just wanted to check up on you, see how you’re adjusting to ship life and all. After all, it certainly isn’t for everyone. I know I never liked it when I was younger, though there are some cute guys around here,” she said, turning to regard you and narrowing her eyes critically, taking in your features. “Though I could’ve sworn the last time I saw you you were taller. And had more facial hair. Plus, you’re a lot skinnier than I remember. I mean, your clothes don’t even fit!” She says, gesturing to you animatedly. You chew the inside of your lip pensively as you look up to her to respond.

“Look, it’s complicated and I promise to tell you later tonight at dinner but for now I have to go and meet the tailor. I’m sure you have other stuff to do,” You say, stepping out of the elevator. She steps out with you, following alongside you.

“Nope!” She chirps, as smiling she smiles down at you. You sigh as you look forward. In all honesty you’re not even that mad. YI mean, you get to live through your teenage years now,. And without the risk of being convicted as a pedophile. You grin at the thought as you pick up the pace.

You walk up to the door and give a swift knock. A few seconds pass before a mare answers. She looks down at you me questioningly before her gaze softens with understanding.

"Oh, you must be that creature that came onboard with Daring. Why, with how the others described you I thought you'd be… well… more ferocious than you appear," she said, giving me a quick once-over.

"That would be courtesy of your onboard doctor ma'am. He was able to extract a… toxin if you will, one which had altered my overall appearance and genetic structure. Though I haven't felt this weak since my last recognizance during the last World War on my old world. But that's a story for another time. I'm here because I'd like to ask if I could get my clothes altered to better fit this frame,” I say, lifting my arm to illustrate, the extra fabric in my sleeve hanging slackly limply from the outstretched limb. “As I’m sure you can see, they’re a bit loose in some places.” I dropped my arm to my side. “Not to mention I'm broke, but I'll work off the debt if you're willing to help me out. Please," I implored, trying desperately not to feel a bit of inferiority in their stature compared to me, meeting her gaze levelly. She nods, looking down at me intently.

"I suppose I can. But it wouldn't be me you’d work for. It would be my husband in the kitchen. He always needs help down there to feed all the hungry mouths on board.” She smiles warmly, stepping aside and welcoming us in. “But please, where are my manners? Come inside," she says, allowing Daring and I entrance. The inside is far more grandiose than I would expect on a ship.

Past the doorway is a large, open space. A small catwalk sits in the center of the room, akin to a narrow stairway leading to what you estimate to be twelve or so feet of flooring, a backstage area veiled by a thick velvet curtain. It reminds you of the stages you would see at plays and recitals before everything went to shit. You look over to the mare as she motions for you to stand on a circular platform. You go over and step onto it, looking over in need ito the mare as it occurs to you that you were never properly introduced.

“Before we get started I’d like to know your name, at least. I'm Gary,” you say, extending your hand and grabbing your sleeve, pulling back the loose fabric and allowing her to take hold.

She extends her hand in exchange, grasping your own in a firm handshake and meeting your gaze with another amiable smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Gary. My name’s Gossamers. I’m the ‘fashion designer’ on deck,” she grinned, seemingly amused. I stared neutrally as we shook. ‘Isn't gossamer fragile? What type of name is that for a shipboard clothesmare? That's the opposite of what functional clothes should be, let alone articles designed by hand for specific tasks.’ On the outside, however, you manage to keep a straight face as you end the handshake.

“So how do you want me to stand? I've never had clothes tailored to me before, so I'm not really sure what to do,” I explained.

“Well, first i need you to remove those baggy clothes song can get your measurements. And don't worry, I'm sure it's nothing I've never seen before.” ‘Oh, you have no idea lady,’ You think, your brow furrowing bemusedly. Daring calls out from behind.

“Roses are red, Cacti are prickly, but dear Celestia that escalated quickly!” She exclaims. You try to stifle your laughter, averting your gaze and grinning like a madman.

Gossamers’ gaze flew toward her with a reproachful frown. “Daring Do! You know better than to act so childish. You and I both know damn well that this is standard procedure and that you shouldn't even still be in here while I'm dealing with a client. Now shoo, before I alert your mother of your shenanigans in the mess hall the other day,” she snaps, pushing Daring out the door and locking the padlock behind her. She sighs, tossing her mane and turning to you expectantly.

“Now, do you want to be professional about this? Or must you insist on childish antics as well?” She says. You opt to comply, raising your hands briefly in mock surrender and setting about removing your clothes, folding each piece of the oversized ensemble as you go and setting them in a neat pile. You hand her the tape measure and let her go to work on taking your measurements. Getting it done is a tad quicker than you expected as she measures you from head to toe, methodically tugging the tape out, locking it, and recording metrics on various portions of your physique whilst gossiping about the latest trends. You just stand there and not along as you zone out, personally indifferent whether Hoity Toity’s new line of suits was insulting to the gay community or how his models were staged. As your mind wandered, you thought about the different designs that you saw back when you were browsing the Internet back on Earth, remembering one in particular that caught your fancy a while back. You look down as Gossamers snaps her fingers in front of your face.

“I said I was done, might want to come out of the zone there. And get dressed, no happy endings with this fashionista,” she quips, walking briskly over to a table, grabbing a thick binder on her way and setting it down on the furniture in front of her. You hasten to get dressed and take a seat opposite her.

“Wasn't planning anything of the sort ma'am,” you say, placing your hands in your lap as you take a glance at the binder. It's a generic, three-inch, white binder with the words ‘Gossamers’ Male Designs’ written on the top in angular black lettering.

“Take a look at these and try to pick a style that would fit your task onboard the ship. As for working off your debt, just go in with a T-shirt and shorts. You'll be fine, though you can send them to me to be adjusted… Given that you had any, come to think of it,” she said, trailing off on an idle tangent and humming to herself, getting up and walking away as you flip through the binder. She returns shortly with a notepad as you decide on a black long sleeve shirt and a pair of blue jeans, selecting the black so the inevitable stains will be less noticeable, jeans for convenience. You also pick out a couple pairs of cargo shorts and a hoodie. After deciding you look over at the little book she’d grabbed while you were browsing and wrote down an estimate, coming to some 125£ which, you've never heard of but you assume to be their form of currency. She taps her pen absently against the pad, reviewing her calculations, and looks up to address you, her gaze flitting between you and her notes as she speaks.

“Given the size of your order, it's going to be a while before I can have them all complete. I'll call you when the clothes are done, or notify my husband, since you'll be working with him to pay all this off. After that he may even offer you a job.” She tosses the pad to the table, smiling at you warmly and leaning back, reclining leisurely in her seat and clasping her hands on the table in front of her. “Looks like you’re good to go; feel free to drop off any clothes you might want me to adjust. I can have up to ten articles of clothing done by the end of the week. If we’re finished, have a good day and I'll contact you when your order is ready,” she says, extending her hand. You grasp it, giving another firm shake farewell.

“Thank you for doing this for me, I'll be sure to see you around,” you say as you walk out the door, shutting it behind you. You head back to your cabin to process everything that's happened today, struck with a sudden sense of uncertainty. You now have a chance to relive your teenage years. The years of exploration, experimentation, and the growing independence is almost every bit as foreign in this new frontier as you remember, and you hardly have any clue how to tackle it. You’d never had this chance in Earth, forced to spring from some some Frankenstein’s ‘applied study of expedited development,’ churned out by a rapid growth experiment and shoved into an ongoing war. You felt conflicted as to whether to see this as a blessing or a curse. You now have to deal with being weaker, younger, and for the first time in years… genuinely afraid.

You’ve felt battle jitters, of course, but on Earth you had nothing to lose. Every day had been as good as any other to die. You’d have given up on the world you were fighting for in an instant, the world that betrayed you and reduced you to a lab rat. The world that had stolen your youth. But here, you were given a chance to reset; to start anew. You face an opportunity you never thought possible, and you’re elated that you are lucky enough to be here. You’re so compelled you could shed tears of happiness, and it would be the first time you would cry for years. But as you walk down warmly-lit deck of the hallway, you can only think of your sisters. The only two girls in your life that had mattered other than your guns. You quickened your pace and made it to your cabin in a matter of minutes. You unlock the door, walking in and standing only long enough to close the door and lock it behind you before you turn and collapse onto the bed, sobbing lightly as you try desperately to repress the memories of your two siblings.

The night results in a restless sleep, leaving you more exhausted than you were before you’d retired with the effort of forcing the haunting images from your mind.
~~~~~~~~~~Next morning, 7 am~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up, lying still and enjoying your restful state for a precious few minutes, luxuriating in the ambient heat. Before long, you’re exhaling deeply and pushing yourself off the mattress, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and stretching toward the ceiling. Your back pops a few times, cracking loudly before you relax, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and standing, stumbling slightly as you make your way blearily to the bathroom. You rest your hands on the countertop, propping yourself up, and look into the mirror. The sight of the deep bags under your eyes is little comfort.

You heave a weary sigh, turning away and stripping yourself of your baggy clothes as you make a mental note to visit Gossamers and drop off what little clothing you have, with the exception of an outfit to wear the next couple days. You can just hand wash them in the tub and keep using them over the course of the week. You set about washing yourself, realizing that you hadn’t ever cleaned the day previous, falling into bed the moment you’d arrived back in your cabin for your fatigue.

Stepping into the shower, you turn on the cold water to wake yourself up and revel in the feeling of the rejuvenating cool washing over you, turning your face upward and shivering as your body is shocked into wakefulness. After a few minutes of the cold water cascading over you, you feel refreshed enough to relax your tired muscles, turning the knob in the opposite direction. Warm water spills out of the faucet, showering you in a near euphoric bliss as the chill of the cool water falls off you like the so many water droplets of the leaky faucet in front of you. Your thoughts go to your sisters again as you lather yourself up, rubbing the bar of soap along your body, sloughing off yesterday’s grime. You rinse yourself, the scene of your younger and elder sister meeting for the first time still fresh in your mind as if it’d happened just moments prior, run your hands through your hair and working in the shampoo to rid yourself of its unpleasantly greasy texture, closing out the bath.

Before long, you turn off the faucet and brace yourself as you open the curtain, recoiling from the blast of cold air that greets you from the opposing side. You reach out and grab hold of the towel, wrapping it around your waist and walking back into your room. You walk over to the bed, the hardwood beneath your feet cool yet comfortable as allow yourself to fall back over, sinking once more into the mattress. Grabbing hold of your locket, you open the shell and stare inward, your mind dragged into its frame and the confines of the world within. Before long, you shake yourself out of your stupor. You sigh to yourself and close the locket, the world around you warping back to that of your cabin, and look to your right to take inventory of your clothes.

You see your coat resting in one of the hexagonal cubby holes beside your bed. Underneath it is your navy blue dress shirt and your charcoal jeans, and in the cubby to its left is a white T-shirt and a pair of red basketball shorts. Other than the clothes that remain in the pile you left in the bathroom, this is the extent of your wardrobe. You summon to your hand the white T-shirt and red shorts as you get dressed. You’re feeling much more capable now that you’ve showered. You walk into the bathroom, picking up the overly large long sleeved shirt and folding it neatly before tucking it into your locket, repeating the action with your jeans and socks. You step out of the bathroom, walking to the bed once again, you sit down and pull your boots out from underneath. You lace up your boots and walk over to the door. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to take on the day.

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,“ you mumble to yourself as you unlock the door, opening it and looking out into the corridor ahead before striding purposefully outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End of chapter~~~~~~~~~~~~~