-The length of this,
- The slight brother-brother pairing,
- The general insanity,
- Choppy writing, {My first time writing in this style, hehe. ;;}
- And ridiculous amounts of Hitchhiker's Guide references. c:
Cairo-//-Alan-\\Fisher
----
--October 5th, Wednesday, 3:25 A.M.; London, England. Year unknown.
----
A camera flicked to life, the focus fading from fuzziness to stark clarity before settling, showing a breathtaking night sky full of meteors, each one flying past with the same amount of majesty and grace and the next.
There was a gasp from behind the lens as the camera swiveled around, showing the sky from all directions. It zoomed in on a particularly bright comet as it hurled towards the ground, likely to land more than a hundred miles off.
The light got closer, brighter, even as the camera zoomed out.
A pause. Then the lens swiveled around wildly as its owner scrambled about, muttering who-knows-what to them self.
A distant noise was caught and the camera stilled before being whirled up to face the sky again. The sound got louder as the comet approached- and with a shock of realization, the person behind the camera discovered that it was not the sound of a large rock about to make impact, but screaming. The lens swiveled around, panning in and out, before catching a figure in the light of the comet.
It caught the glimpse of a person, holding onto a star-shaped yellow… something for dear life, before it fell to the floor with a dull thud, sputtering out to static.
----
--October 6th, 8:40 A.M.
----
Clearly, I am not having the best of luck, today.
Blinking my eyes open, I see little black shapes swim around in my vision. Ah, vertigo, long time no see. How I loathe you. Slowly my other senses come to life and I realize the one of the black splotches has not yet disappeared, and is pecking me in such an uncomfortable way. No, no, it’s not just my vision then.
Looking up- and immediately regretting it- I shoo the black figure away and watch the world come into focus as my eyes adjust. It always takes a few seconds after a crash landing. The ringing in my ears subsides and the rest of my body finally starts to respond to my wishes, {no real damage, thank the stars} so I stand and observe my surroundings.
I’m in a building. Okay, good; the floor is a bit loose and I think I’m on the second story, so I should probably move. There are broken tiles all around, and- ow- sharp nails, rubble, broken beams and a lot of glass. I hope that roof is stable.
My mind thinks back a bit and I suddenly remember something. Something very important. I turn over one of the planks and find that my starboard is totaled- ah, Belgium. The casing is cracked in several places, some wires are poking out here and there, and it’s obviously going to cost a hefty sum to fix.
I sigh, stand, run my hand through my disheveled hair, and hope to every God I can think of that there’s a cheap, experienced mechanic around.
There’s a weird sound to my left and a slight rustle of movement. Oh, right, I saw a person on that skylight… That would explain the glass, at least. It’s a wonder that they weren’t killed in the impact.
With a few steps over the glass and beams, I find the man {who looks vaguely like my species, but I know he can't be} lying on the far side of the room. He’s kind of pretty- dark blue hair and rather fair skinned; I wonder if that’s normal on this planet? I think he’s wearing pajamas and a lab coat, but you can never be sure on a new world. Still, what an odd fellow.
I crouch down beside him and press a finger into his cheek. He groans. So at least he’s definitely not dead. Still, against my better judgment, I want to wake him up. Maybe he knows directions to the nearest space port.
“Hey”, I call.
He stirs again, blinking open- oh, my- almost white eyes for just a moment. They open again in a few seconds, focus on me, and he shoots up with a yell. I expected this, so I act indifferent. He then pauses, presses a hand to his head, and crumples back to the ground. I wait.
He looks up again- those white, white eyes are so-- and speaks.
“Um, h-hello?”
----
--October 6th, 3:12 P.M.
----
This world does not have a spaceport, nor a mechanic that has ever even seen a starboard before.
I am fairly upset at this.
It does not help that my new friend is constantly pestering me with questions about my home world, other galaxies, the starboard, and oh, what where you doing in our galaxy in the first place? And I, being the polite, kind person that my mother taught me to be when meeting people of a new world, have to answer all of them.
“I’m a star-chaser from Cel, which means that my job is to find pretty stars to bring back to Cel, sell them to local merchants, and have them turned into jewelry or other fancy things.
“In my galaxy, stars are a bit different than the ones you have here, they...” I pause for a second, brush a lock of hair behind my ear, and show him my earring. “Are like this, you see? They make great jewelry, but they think like we, well, I do, and are rather strong, so-”
“Hold on, hold on,” My friend, who I now know as Alan, jumps in. “They think?”
And I sigh, dramatically. for what feels like the hundredth time today.
“Yes. I just said that. You see… I was after a red dwarf- the same type as the one I'm wearing- and got pulled into an Eddie. Which is something like a glitch in the universe. Anyway, I was sucked into this galaxy, got carried into your gravitational field, and, well, crashed.”
He looks astonished. I shrug and go back to working on my starboard.
----
--October 6th, 6:15 P.M.
----
I don't plan on sticking around this planet for very long, and I thought that I had made that perfectly clear earlier today.
Apparently, the universe has other plans.
“Oh, Belgium!”
I am on the roof. It hasn't been repaired, yet, but Alan's calling someone for that right now. I, on the other hand, have other plans.
Unfortunately, those other plans don't seem to be working out too well. My tracker hasn't been able to pick up a signal here- without a signal, I can't put out an S.O.S, and without an S.O.S, I am stuck. It works better in high elevation, so I tried the roof.
There is no signal. I wave it around a bit- still no signal.
I growl.
At the same time, I hear Alan climb up the ladder behind me. He was trying to be quiet, I think, but he managed to break a tile on his way up and ruined the whole thing. I try to ignore him.
“Uh…” he begins- I glare, he lost his nerve, found it again, dusted it off, and continued. “Er, what… are you doing?”
He sounds a little cautious when he asks, so I try not to let my annoyance show. Alan's a nice kid- and for all he lacks in tact, he makes up in politeness.
“Searching for a signal.” I reply simply, stuffing the device into my jacket pocket from whence in came. Alan is still a little confused. “That was a portable homing device in case I ever crash while on a job. Unfortunately, it only works if I have a signal.”
Alan looks a little happier at this. I do not know why, it seems to be a pretty bleak situation, in my opinion. “So… you’re staying?”
He sounds hopeful, too. “For now, at least. If another star-chaser, ship, or anything comes by, I can pick up on their radio waves and hopefully get a lift.” I look down at the ground, which two stories below us, “But that will probably be a long time from now…”
----
--October 12th, 12:20 P.M.
----
I have begun to actually like this planet. The people- humans, they are called- are fairly unintelligent in comparison to my species and I often worry for their own well-being as a race; but, it really isn’t the worst place I could have crashed. A little dull, but not bad.
Besides, there is something- someone- that is making it hard to leave. And in more ways than one.
So I check the homing device less often now, have shut my starboard away in a closet for most of the time, and have taken to human fashion instead of Cel’s. I like these odd things that the humans call “umbrellas” or “parasols” a great deal, and I often spend most of Alan’s paycheck on them every month. It's alright, he doesn't mind.
'Yes', I think to myself, while twirling my newest parasol, 'it’s not the worst place I could have landed.'
----
Epilogue
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--April 19th, 4:40 A.M.; London, England. Year unknown.
----
After three years of living together, Cairo’s homing device suddenly picked up a signal in the dead of night. There were mixed feelings about this.
“You found someone?” Alan asked, confused, scared, a little hurt and a whole list of other things that even he couldn’t understand. He suddenly realized that he had begun to really like the alien… Possibly as more than just a good friend.
Cairo nodded excitedly from his place on the {newly repaired} roof, then paused, studied Alan’s expression, and nodded slower.
“Yes… Yes! And now-- now you can come with me! See the worlds, galaxies, everything you’ve ever dreamed of!” He {Alan had assumed, by this time, that his friend was male- but he was never really sure.} said, twirling around fully to face his friend, beaming a bright smile that showed off their slightly pointy teeth. Alan didn’t know what to think of that.
But before he could come up with an adequate reply, a soft beam of moonlight broke free from the clouds in a widely dramatic way.
Nothing happened.
Cairo squirmed in anticipation, much like a little puppy watching a new treat being pulled out of the bag in an unnecessarily slow manner.
The beam of light slowly, slowly gathered, took on the shape of a person, and Alan thought he heard Cairo whimper a bit at how long this was taking.
Finally, the light broke away in a burst of soft sparkles, revealing an odd, human-like being in its wake.
There was a pause.
“…Cairo!” The newcomer exclaimed with joy and Cairo jumped up, tackled the other alien in a fierce hug, and almost caused them to fall off the roof.
“Big brother! Oh, it’s been so long!”
And Alan was thoroughly confused.
----
-Character descriptions-
Because you all really want to know this, riiiight? :3"
----
-Alan-
An astronomer who’s pretty new to his field, being just out of collage and all. He fairly shy, mousy as some would say, and prefers to spend most of his days in the lab or his attic, which doubles as his bedroom and at-home observatory.
Because he spends so much time indoors, he’s quite pale. With his naturally blue-black hair and almost white eyes, he often reminds people a bit of the moon itself.
Alan is the “caretaker” of both Cairo and now Fisher, considering that Fisher was unwilling to leave the planet just yet, after seeing Cairo’s hesitance and impressive collection of umbrellas- something that Alan will never understand.
He really likes Cairo, probably more than he really should; but his attraction to Fisher is growing fast as well.
-Cairo-
A strange alien from the planet Cel, who crashed through Alan’s roof one night during a meteor shower. No one really knows Cairo’s gender, nor does Cairo seem to care, so it doesn’t seem like anyone will know for some time. Fisher probably knows, but he’s about as willing to share as his sibling is.
Cairo has dark brown hair, blue-green eyes, and slightly grey skin; which is normal for his race, he says. He has a slight obsession with umbrellas, and seems to be completely clueless in the ways of “human fashion”. Cairo will wear literally anything with anything, so long as he keeps his earring and star-shaped choker necklace on. But they are getting better at it with Fisher’s help. They have long since put away the homing device now that Fisher has arrived, and can now leave anytime he wants to.
They don’t seem to want to.
Cairo has begun to really fall for Alan, though they have no idea, and has been in a “relationship” with Fisher for… years, despite being very distantly related- despite the fact that they call each other "brother", Cairo and Fisher are really more akin to being distant cousins.
Though, their type of relationship is completely normal on Cel for beings who cannot get pregnant, and Cairo can’t understand why Alan seems so perturbed by it.
-Fisher-
Fisher is not Fisher’s actual name. Nor is he really “male” since there is no such word on Cel, but it’s close enough in Alan’s opinion since Cairo calls him “big brother”. Likewise, Cairo is male, because Fisher calls him "little brother".
In any case, Fisher’s actual name is unpronounceable by most everyone in the universe, so he took the name Fisher because of his profession.
Fisher is in the same line of star work as Cairo is, though in a different branch. While Cairo chases down stars, Fisher gets to sit around on his Lunar-ship with a fishing pole, literally fishing for stars. The actual process of this is very complicated and would probably take several hundred pages to explain in detail; but appears similar to what fishing is, here on earth.
His appearance is not at all similar to Cairo’s. Fisher’s skin is bone white, his hair pale blue and lightly tipped with tan, and his eyes are an odd light purple shade. You would never guess the two to be related unless you knew them.
His relationship with Alan is complicated; they both feel attraction towards one another, but Fisher either doesn’t really care or just never feels the need to act upon it. He prefers to spend more time with Cairo, usually, or off on his own.
He’s an odd one.
=------=
*Starboard: Not a part of a ship; not in this case, at least. A starboard is an interesting little compact star-ship, similar to what [Kirby] flies around on. :3
A Lunar-ship is basically the same idea, but looks more like a crescent moon.
If anyone's wondering about the use of "Belgium", that's one of those Guide references I was talking about. Just ignore it. ^^
...
-hides- I'm sorry it's so huge {and probably has so many errors}~ D:
X 
![[Kirby]](http://www.bravowebs.com/tiffanysh/kirby_star_2.jpg){kind=link}