Capsuleers! It’s Fabuleux again! Here to bring you news that is just fabuleux!
Today is the greatest time of the year for Fabuleux! For it was on this day when your beloved mortal Fabuleux was born! Marvelous is it not? This is the day when the word fabuleux obtained a new meaning! The day that the fashion world was blown away by the Fabuleux sensation!
The day when Fabuleux turns five! Oh Fabuleux is just jovial! So Jovial that it will be Fabuleux that will be handing out the gifts instead of getting them!
All Fabuleux Trends department in the Federation will have a 75% off sale on everything! Fabuleux shirts, pants, hats, socks, shoes, lingerie, dresses and suits are ALL 75% off for this fabuleux day! On this day The Federation will be Fabuleux. So go! Pick though the thousands upon thousands of designs available at every Fabuleux Trends department.
Remember, if it’s not Fabuleux Trends - then it is not Fabuleux.
However don’t leave this thread just yet Capsuleer - For Fabuleux wants to tell you all the tale of Fabuleux’s birth. For Fabuleux was not born in the warmth of a mother’s womb. But instead Fabuleux was born through hardships.
Our tale begins with a young Gallentean boy by the name of Yalere Werieux. A wide eyes lad that did everything a good boy would do. He ate his vegetables, took out the trash and was always on time when he went to work. His job? A miner. That was everyone’s job on the harsh downtrodden colony Yalere was born on. When everyone came to age they were sent off to the mines.
But the caverns Yalere and his people had to travel through to obtain the precious ore they hunted for was filled with toxins that would kill anything upon contact. Thus, everyone were to wear this ugly, bulky industrial body suits to protect them from the tainted air. But even then the mines were still a hazard. Tunnels would collapse daily, one slip can have you sent spiralling downward into a chasm. Or the faulty equipment they were given could backfire in their very hands.
But the worst part of the mines? Everyone around you was a stranger. You could not see though the helmets tinted visor. The helmets prevented them from speaking to each other. Every suit had this disgusting coat of brown to them. When they entered the mines they only know themselves.
The miner they witness fall to their death, crushed or suffocated from a busted oxygen tank. Could be a brother, their father, a close friend or just some acquaintance they thought were nice. They wouldn’t know their identity until the lunch break. A monitor was in the mess hall that would go through the casualties after their bodies were recovered.
Yalere lost count of how many miners he witnessed break down in tears over their plate of slop. Torn apart that someone close to them perished without them even noticing. Yalere himself did not worry himself too much with the “causality roll call”. So long as Yalere’s father was at the table with him. There was nobody he would know on that list.
Yalere kept to himself. Even when he stood there in front of one of the miners pinned down by a boulder in a crumbling pathway. The miner reached out. But Yalere did not reach out for him. Yalere ran for his own safety like everyone else. Nobody would risk their lives for a stranger.
Death was common for Yalere. Once again he did not pay attention to the roll call. Rather he looked around his Father. He looked at the line, then the other tables, then he spotted him. A picture of him. On the monitor.
Yalere cried that night as the others who suffered lose. But Yalere didn’t cry because of his father’s death. Instead he cried in fear of how horrific a death like that was for his Father. He died alone with not a soul to comfort him. For nobody recognised him under the think layers of armor. He had no identity. Yalere didn’t recognise his own father as he died. Did his Father recognise him as he ran off?
Yalere knew he could not bring his Father back. He had to carry on but did not want to suffer the same fate of dying alone like his Father did. He wanted someone to recognise him if he was to die. He wanted a identity. So he made one. He wrapped a blue armband around the right arm of his suit. There were no uniform regulations and a simply piece of cloth wouldn’t restrict the way he worked. It was to make him stand out.
It worked as intended. The bright blue armband caught the attention of some of the miners. It stood out from the depressing brown of the mines that dominated their lives. Yalere started wearing that armband off duty and his colleagues recognised him from the mines. Some would come to Yalere’s table and exchange jokes with him. They would pat him on the back when the delve into the mines.
It saved Yalere’s life even. People got to know Yalere, care about him. They knew Yalere as the “Armband” in the mines. He was someone worth risking their lives over.
A walkway Yalere was traversing on was at the end of its stability. The heavy equipment we carried across it made it give in. The two miners ahead of Yalere plummeted into the darkness. Yalere on the other hand found himself hanging over it. Someone grab hold his leg before it became out of reach. Another stranger came over and grabbed Yalere’s other leg. They then both pulled him up. Back onto a solid surface.
Yalere did not know who he’s saviors were. Nor the men that were killed in front of him. What Yalere did know is that this simple piece of cloth around the arm of his suit gave him the identity he wanted. But those around him, had no identity of their own.
Yalere had a new hobby that he would work on in his spare time. Taking the suit he wore and decorating it with trinkets and cloth. Maybe a crown? Or a mask? Maybe some sleeves…
Theses ideas were then handed out his friends. So that he may recognize them individually. When they were asked about their outlandish decorations. They gave them Yalere’s name. They went to Yalere asking for their identity. Even offering up some of their meager wages just to look unique.
Yalere’s hobby became a business. Yalere would occupy his mind with exotic suit designs while digging. Then at night would turn those visions into reality. A stranger would walk in, then exit looking like he’s the one in charge. Sometimes a family or cliq would want to all share the same designs. To show unity.
Yalere became proud of his work so much hat he grew the confidence to start sharing his beloved work over the Galnet. Showing everyone in the cluster just how beautiful this colony had become thanks to his work. Many that followed him over social media gave a like here and there…But the real “like” Yalere received never showed up in his notification box. Rather it showed up on his homeworld. A luxury craft broke though the clouds and gained the attention of both Yalere and the other miners all decorated making their way to the mines.
They moved on, gone on with their day. But when Yalere was sitting down to enjoy his lunch. He approached by one of the colony administrators. Asked to come with him to his office. Yalere had fear in his gut. He never made his services public. It was passed around from word of mouth to go see “Armband”.
Yalere got to see what the Admin office looked like for the first time. At first Yelere had dreams of becoming the Admin. But it appears fate has placed him on a different course. There was a man there, dressed in the strangest garments Yalere has ever seen. Strange yet captivating. He stood up and extended his hand toward with a smile. Yalere was unsure what to do. He looked at the Admin who was looking at him. Yalere figured the gesture was for him after that. Yalere grabbed the man’s firm hand and shook it.
Yalere was escorted to the landing pad where that luxury craft was perfectly placed. It was spotless despite how filthy the colony typically was. The inside of it was like a whole new world to Yalere. Clean, extravagant, expensive. The man gestured over to a plush chair for Yalere to sit down and strap himself in. They got comfortable and for the first time Yalere’s life. His feet been disconnected from his homeworld. He went up to the stars.
Then the man finally speaks to Yalere.
“Your work. Is fabuleux.”
The word was like silk to Yalere’s ears. “Fabuleux”. It was the perfect word he was searching for to explain all his work thus far
Fabuleux
Yalere was taken from his home without verbally agreeing to anything. As if the bizzaely dressed man knew Yalere would agree to whatever he offered. What did he offer Yalere? A studio, staff, models and everything he could want. He just gave Yalere one order.
“Make the cluster Fabuleux.”
Thus, Fabuleux was born
Thank you Capsuleers! Fabuleux loves everyone of you and hopes to do business with all.
