The Ship Thief
(This scene appears after a little downward scrolling in a slightly different version. Still, though...enjoy anyway.)
Madrian looked exactly as Rædis and Traveler imagined a man with such a moniker would. Tall, whip thin, quick moving but never in a rush. His jet black hair was wet-look crazy, slicked back along the sides and hung in points well below the collar of the glossy brown leather jacket he habitually wore. The top of his do was shaped into a magnificent crest and from any angle was visible the finely spaced lines of lines of a comb one never actually saw him use.
He viewed his world with hazel eyes shaded by amber tinted shooting glasses, the frames of which, were gold and perfectly perched, immobile on the bridge of his prominent nose. His thin face was perpetually clean shaven save for a wide set of mutton chops that were edged with laser precision.
He was wearing a pair of tight, green corduroys that flared out over black, pointy toed boots, a white silk shirt with a wide collar done up half way with glossy green snaps ringed with silver. His wide leather belt had silver embossed holes down its length and a large buckle of brushed chrome. Around his neck hung two chains of rhodium and platinum. From one of them dangled an ornate medallion that flashed under the lights of the club they were in.
"That's the guy we're looking for." Rædis said pointing him out from where they sat at a floating table littered with odd shaped glasses of half drained exotic drinks and small ashtrays full of colorful cigarette butts.
"I'll bet you anything that gold 1969 Mercury Cyclone 428 Cobra Jet in the car park is his." the machine said over the terrible music thumping through the creepy, futuristic discotheque.
Traveler hated places like this. As a master of sonic design he couldn't stand how they sounded, even if the music was good, which it almost never was. As one of the most fashionable beings, literally of all time, he could usually only scoff at the pathetic attempts at any semblance of style the denizens of these crowded, badly lit, social
hell holes attempted to pull off. This man was different, however in that his choice of couture was in such deliberate opposition to what was considered in style where they were that he was, with the exception of Traveler himself, the most stylish person in the large room.
"How can you be sure?" Traveler shouted back as he tried to get a better look at the dude through the haze of various kinds of smoke, ill lighting and laser effects.
"Seriously?" Rædis said back. He could somehow modulate his voice to make it much easier to hear over the din without having to shout. It sounded to Traveler like he was right next to him speaking normally in a quieter and smaller room. The robot's friend always found it an impressive and useful trick. "Trust me, I'm sure it's his. None of these other posers would know to ever get their hands on something that unique let alone be actually able to do it. I mean, look at him!"
"I'm trying!" Traveler hollered. "How would he have gotten something so rare and unusual?"
"That's what we're here to find out." Rædis answered more testily than he normally would. The awful nightclub was beginning to get to him too. "But I'm sure that's the guy." he said confidently.
"Well shit man, works for me. Let's introduce ourselves!" Traveler yelled to which Rædis finally replied:
"You don't have to shout, Trav. I can hear you fine, you know."
Traveler realized this instantly, of course, and understood he was only yelling because that's what one always ends up doing in such obnoxious venues.
"I hate these fucking places." he grumbled.
"Let's just wait for him by his car." Rædis suggested. They left the club for the car park to await the man called Madrian and marvel at his amazing automobile.