The hookers were the first thing that Del noticed when he stepped onto The Strip. They were better-fed now, and they were starting to look like normal people again after the chem-hooks has gone the way of the cat. Cachino was certainly doing a good job of improving the Omerta's image. Under normal circumstances, Del might have given them a faint smile and a pat on the ass as he walked past them toward the Lucky 38, but he was all business now. Mr. House wasn't a man known for his patience when he needed something done, or his tolerance for people denying his invitiations for an audience. Not that he thought this would be an audience. It would probably just be dealing through his lieutenants or that robot wife of his...at least he thought it was supposed to be a wife or...whatever.

Truthfully he'd never even set foot on the steps of the Lucky 38, but he found it...underwhelming for some reason. He didn't dwell on the disapointment as he made his way up to the doors, pushing them open to reveal all that oh-so-impressive pre-war splendor. He couldn't surpress the sharp whistle as he took in the room, wondering just how much money House had put into keeping this place running for over 200 years, and looking pretty damn good at that. But there'd be other times to gawk at the pretty lights and slots. He was supposed to be here for a job, and he aimed to find out what it was. He called the elevator with a single button-push and waited, tapping his foot absently. As he expected, that elevator made a damn impressive time of it. He only had to wait for a few seconds before it came down to the bottom floor.

When the elevator opened up on the Penthouse floor, he was greeted to a rather...odd sight. There were three men in there already. Two looked like regular wastelanders, while the third was an NCR trooper, uniform and everything. One of the wastelanders was throwing a grenade toward the trooper, though, thank Christ, it wasn't live. Still, he made sure to take a few steps away from the elevator just in face.

"So....look like dis is gon' be an in'er'es'in' little job interview..." He muttered to nobody in particular.