A piece of flash fiction I wrote, exploring how a Caldari family carry themselves in public as they decide to go shopping. I intend to write pieces for the Minmatar, Gallente and Amarr, in a way to contrast and explore how a ritual that we take for granted in the West would differ between the various cultures of New Eden
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The Caldari always preferred practicalities over prettiness, and the same can be applied to this particular station concourse, where it had been thoroughly renovated to replace the naturalist buildings with habitation modules to maximize space, therefore maximizing the greatest amount of potential businesses and in turn maximizing the greatest amount of profit, as clichéd as it was. The removal of all naturalist elements was just one item on Heth’s long agenda of “de-Gallenteanization”, and that it was unbecoming of the Caldari to have their station designs mocked by trying to mimic the styles of their arch enemies.
This Deteis family, who had decided to use their allocated vacation day for shopping together, did not seem to care either way. They would not admit that they preferred the fact that the bright and vivid colours of various advertisements were now softer shades of blue and green, which was far easier on the eyes. Now, they did not have to squint their eyes to make out an advertisement for a new hover car behind curtain after curtain of red and pink holosigns displaying the latest in workwear (despite the fact the actual workwear was a dull grey, just like everything else).
The children, three of them in total, walked in front of the two parents, talking amongst themselves while the mother and father surveyed their environ quietly for anything of note. They were dressed appropriately and practically, in matching dark colours to identify them as a family collective, with trimmings of purple to distinguish themselves from other passing units. A foreigner, particularly a Gallente one, would be absolutely hopeless in separating one family from another, as it was all about the subtleties, a specialty of the Caldari. Why, yes, the presence of a triangle on that jacket and a sphere on those set of trousers does indeed allow you to identify an Oto from a Kalivaan, amongst many other things. What, having trouble because it’s not there to greet you loudly in the face, requiring some actual thought to, you know, study someone fully for once?
This apparent lack of individualism (to the Gallente) and anaemia of creativity (to the Minmatar) was perfectly acceptable amongst this society, which put little to no stock in fashion or appearance beyond carrying yourself as a proud and dignified State citizen, at least amongst the lower workers. Caillean students would desperately try and insist that every single human has some desire to “be different”, but the Hyasyoda exchange lawyer would just dismiss her as having “blurred priorities”. The children were the last bastion that wouldn’t mind shiny toys and trinkets, they thought, but they honestly didn’t seem to care either. It was this difference, at such a basic level, which meant the Federation and Caldari will simply never get on.
The father stopped outside the front display of a store selling top-of-the-line holovision sets, with his wife noting his shifted attention almost immediately.
“Children, wait a moment” she gently ordered, her voice commanding maternal authority.
The eldest of the lot glanced to his mother, and nodded silently. He ushered his siblings to step aside on the sidewalk, out of the way of the front entrance and thoroughfare, but close enough to their parents to keep the collective unit sustained.
“What do you think?” inquired the husband, a thoughtful purse of his lips as he passively watched the looped MindClash match.
“What’s the resolution?” replied the wife, the light of the holovision reflecting off her firmly structured features.
“Good enough, I’m not sure it matters. I’m just wondering if it won’t be outclassed or become dated anytime soon”
She allowed herself a pause, “It will certainly fit in the living room, it’ll nestle perfectly where our current set is. That’s quite a lot of scrip, who is it made by?”
“A Federation brand” he allowed himself a quiet sigh, indicating their joint reluctance, “I just think the colours are too intense”
“That’s the last thing you want to worry about if it’s Gallentean, and if you are concerned with whether or not a new model will be released within…Maker, knowing them, probably next week”
His frown deepened, “That’s the problem. Investing in it will not dent our finances at all, and we’re unlikely to be upgraded by the Corporation anytime soon at our current work level. It would be a wise purchase for the residence for this reason”
The children were watching another screen, a program targeted at them, reminding the youth the importance of what it means to be Caldari through the antics of a sports team. They exchanged comments and thoughts amongst themselves; not particularly loud, but not exactly a whisper to infer subjugation.
“Our current set is out-of-date, yes” she conferred with her husband, “If it lasts more than a year, than is probably a sound choice, no?”
“We shall wait, to see if the prices change along with our financial situation”
The Deteis woman nodded sharply, and turned away from the front store window.
“We’ve finished looking, children, let’s go” she said in the same as before.
The children started to move again, but not without forcing themselves to look away from the holoscreen reluctantly. They disliked having to break free so soon after being captivated, but they were not about to question their parents. Private feelings expressed outwardly were unwelcome.
The family passed several Gallentean clothing stores aimed at children. It was a wonder how they even continued to do business here. Despite the youthful colours designed to entice their target audience, the young eyes of these particular children just seemed to look right through the shallow attempts of enticement. Instead, they would rely on the fashion guidance (if one could call it that) of their parents, and they would not question what they were provided. While a Gallentean preteen might twitch at this thought, the mothers and fathers of the State would always provide their children with the best wear, the definition of ‘best’ being completely opposite, of course.
“Food?” the woman inquired with a sideglance to her husband.
“Yes, I imagine you were referring to that stall over there?” he nodded to a QuafeSnacks stall, which had stylized its logo into the Caldari language and aesthetic.
“Quite. Children, that way, please”
The vector of the family changed, carefully making sure they would not interrupt the pedestrian thoroughfare as they crossed the concourse to the stall, where an overweight Achuran man of middle age greeted them with something that almost resembled a grunt. They ordered five boxes of lunch, their contents inconsequential, the mother handing out one box carefully to each of the children, who patiently waited to receive their meal.
The youngest attempted to fall to straight away, before she was chided by her father. She flashed a sheepish look up to him, and closed her box, allowing the mother to indicate an adequate place to sit. Once they were all seated, they opened their boxes of hot food and began eating without saying a word. It would have been complete silence, if it was not for their excessively loud chewing and devouring, the father hunched over his box with a pair of kuashi and his partner looking equally undignified. There were the quiet requests for napkins and sauce sachets, but that was the only breaking of the verbal amnesty. Once they had individually finished, they each took their own box to the trash unit, and then resumed their seat to wait for the others to catch up.
The youngest girl swayed her feet underneath the table, watching the Achuran man that had served them. She might have hummed if she wasn’t Caldari, just studying and regarding the obese mass of a man in silence. Thinking to herself, she wondered how he got so fat, and how he would look with no clothes on. She didn’t dare to outwardly speak her thoughts, which were broken once her brother ushered her to stop swaying her feet.
They finished their meal, and the father inquired each of his children whether they required anything. One by one, they replied in the negative, with the parents deciding if they had any further need to remain here, as their to-do list had already been fulfilled. They opted it was time to go home, despite leaving over half this commercial area unexplored. Necessities, necessities.