[color=gold][h2][center]Delvin Crawford[/center][/h2][/color]
	Dropping the crumpled pack of cigarettes back into the bag behind him, Delvin shrugged slightly as Sacha made for the weapons crates.  [color=gold]"Eh, good for you."[/color]  He started the bike up once again as the Godmother left in an apparent hurry, leaving her negotiator stranded with a pair of armed alligators that were starting to look hungry.  Laughing to himself about that dark image, he steered his iron steed to follow the armored jeep while tightening the straps on his gas mask.  A sandstorm could easily wreck havoc on the exposed engine below him, and he wanted to get his loot back to the hole in a working state.  Thus, he took off for his ultimate destination that day; the Hole.

	As he weaved his way through the macabre streets of New Earlton, the raven was sure to occasionally glance at the scenes he passed by.  Beggars lined the streets, a few prostitutes and druggies were scattered about, and the occasional corpse was being devoured by flies in a disturbingly fast manner.  This place was a hellhole if one existed, but it was home.  A broken home, that was.  His thoughts were interrupted as he heard a scream from a little ways down the street.  Shrugging the noise off as someone probably getting beaten to death with a lead pipe, he turned the corner and continued on his way to the Hole, not to be stopped.  He'd had a long enough day already.  

	He slowed down as he entered the parking lot of the hotel, guiding the bike into a space near the door and killing the engine.  He removed the keys and dropped them into his vest's pocket once again and locked it, then started to undo the mess of bungee chords than had been keeping the TV in place for the last few hours.  Several minutes of cursing and fighting against the tools, the television was under the bird's arm and the other was peeling off the gas mask he'd worn all day.  Clipping the mask onto a belt loop and withdrawing the pack of smokes from his bike again, he flicked it open and fished one out with his beak.  The cigarette secured, and the pack now tucked into another pocket within his vest, he took hold of the lighter hanging from his neck and lit the end.  All affairs in order now, Delvin made his way into the hotel before him and took a seat at the bar.  Dropping the flat screen onto the counter and removing the butt from his beak, he tapped impatiently, waiting for a bartender to make an appearance.

	[@Hawlin][@Midnight Howl]