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It was quite possible that those seated near the door heard a snippet of the conversation. Then, considering how loudly they were talking, it was quite possible that the majority of the bar heard. "Yeah, he's a Canary, but don't let that put you off, senorita. Not like it's his fault where he was born. It's like one of them handicap things, you know what I'm sayin'? He's still got Ventru blood deep in'm, so he'll go like a stallion." This was followed by a woman giggling. A second later, the duo entered the room.
Evidently they were both Corsairs - each had the give-away Hispanic complexion. The male wore the traditional garb of a Corsair pilot. Other than this, there was nothing traditional about him. The flight suit was unbuttoned almost to the navel, and a large gold medallion hung around his neck. One of his eyes had been replaced with a cybernetic implant, which had been crudely soldered to his skull. He wore his curly black hair cropped short, and his smile positively glittered. Probably on account of the sheer number of teeth he'd had torn out and replaced with gold substitutes.
However, the most striking feature about the peculiar figure was his boots: they came half-way up his shins, even with the tops folded down. Their platform soles added four inches to his already considerable height. They blazed crimson in the lights, due to the phosphorescent substance that they'd been dyed with. In short, he was one of the most flamboyant figures to ever walk through McCool's doors.
The woman hanging off his arm was wearing what, technically, could be classed as clothing. She had evidently heard of leaving aspects of the female body to the imagination, and wanted no truck with it. She was shapely in a way that was considered popular by Cretian men, and covered in 'endearing' tattoos. Unfortunately, she was missing some teeth - she refused to elaborate on why. Probably gum disease or bar fights. The man peered around the room, looking for someone. There was a lull in the conversation as the bar's denizens turned to stare incredulously (or scornfully) at this over-the-top apparition.
"Yo, Viera-baby! Where you hiding? Leonardo's got your date!"