Men's Second Style

The Drifter walks in the nearly empty bar as the few patrons casually turn to check out the intruder, the dust from outside following him in. The Drifter looks around, finds an empty table, sits himself down and looks around and waits.

He looks down at his dusty overalls, battered and torn. He frowns as he remembers how each hole was ripped, climbing jagged cliffs, chasing down a wild muklok for food, running from a bandow who thought he got a little close to her cubs. It’s been a long trip, but worth it. An old man in the corner rises from his table and makes his way over to where The Drifter sits, settling in a chair opposite. “Call me Doc,” the man says. The Drifter nods. “Do I know what you’re here for?” Doc asks slowly. The Drifter nods again. Doc sits for a moment, gathering his thoughts, looking The Drifter over. “All right. Follow me.” Doc gets up and heads for a door in the rear of the bar. The Drifter follows behind.

Doc slides open another panel after the door behind them closes it and leads The Drifter to a hidden room. The smell of tanned flesh fills his nostrils and he stops in awe. Hanging around the room are a multitude of outfits, all leather and rough cloth. Some hang with belts, straps, chains. Some as black as night, others punctuated with swaths of color. The Drifter breathes in the smell of leather deeply and smiles. “What ya got?” Doc asks. The Drifter looks down at his torn, dusty clothes and digs in his pocket. He pulls out a palmful of bronze coins. Doc strokes his beard and shakes his head a little. “All right,” he says after a pause. He goes over to one of the stands and pulls down a handful of leather and cloth. “This’ll do ya for that much.” He lays out the clothes — a sparkling silver shirt made out of woolish material, fastened with metal hooks and buttons, a black leather jacket with a dark wing-like collar, leather straps around the elbows and metal hinges to hook up the center, black leather tight-fitting pants held up with a wide red belt.

The Drifter quickly strips off the dusty overalls and slides on the new outfit. It fits him well. He admires his new look in the dirty mirror on the wall, noticing the red patches on the arms of the jacket and the center belt that fastened the jacket in the middle. The clothes crinkle a bit with his body, suiting him well. He runs his hand through his dusty hair, looking a last time in the mirror. As he exits, he hands over his coins to Doc, barely regarding him as he strides back out the door and finally out into the waning light. The dust blows at his feet. He smiles; tonight he’ll be ready for the Lottery.

DoC Eldritch has a style, one I like to call Upscale Apocalyptic. After civilization has extinguished itself and rats are left to fight with rats, the upper echelon of warriors left to carry on will shop at DoC’s place. His clothes are the epitome of apocalyptic style and his latest, an update to his previous Badlands outfit called Badlands 2 – Red Dawn, is no exception. This outfit is beautifully crafted in leather, cloth and metal, black being the dominant color with red accents for the belt and on the jacket. The shirt is shining silver, crinkled in just the right places with metallic fasteners up the center. The black leather pants are wrinkled after a long ride, held up by a wide red leather belt and metal fasteners. This is a must-have outfit when heading offworld.

It’s available at DoC’s store and also on SLExchange for $L375.

The female counterpart is also available for $L375.

All outfits are non-transferable.

Pictures taken at the Dune roleplay Sim, Splintered Rock.