Location biggrin own the Street
In the distance, the soft rumble of a 1584cc engine grumbled, rising and lowering as it drew closer. Turning down the final street that lead down into the Warehouse district, the Electric Purple Harley Roadking came slowly into view, being followed in the air above by a Raven that seemed to be three sizes too big.
Sitting behind the apebars was a man in loose leather pants, his steeltoed boots shimmering in the dim light, the red and black leather vest with the criss cross buckles covering his bare tattooed chest, his long silvery white hair fluttering in the wind of his passage. His eyes were hidden under a pair of aviator shades and the brim of his wide cowboy hat that had seem better days. As he popped the clutch down into second, his studded gloved hands gripping the handle bars, the Cleric looked up as he drew closer. His lower mouth and nose were hidden behind a breathing unit of some sort, soft pink mist pouring from the vents on either cheek pad
As he drew closer, more could be heard. It seemed that he had a small stereo on the bike, playing "La Grange" by ZZTop just loud enough to be heard over the engine when he revved it up. Strapped to his back was a holster of some sort, what looked to possibly be a shotgun but it was oddly shaped in some fashion.
Stopping outside the Warehouse, the old Cleric looked up as he flipped down the kickstand. Reaching down, he slowly turned off the bike before removing his mirrored shades, taking in the outter facade with his deep sad violet eyes.