[b]Wire[/b]

He looked at the mob boss for a second, before giving a curt nod. A short wave was given to Howard, who seemed to have tensed up like a brick in an oven. He gave a slight tilt of his head in recognition, and lowered his shoulders by an inch. A wry smile etched it's way across Wire's lips. He did not envy him.

On the way to his assigned bed, and he pulled out a curious looking device mixed between a calculator and a smartphone which had no display. The guards knew who he was so didn't stop him. The simply raised their eyebrows at the mishmash of tech he had in his possession. He typed something into it with alarming speed, paused for a second, and then began to type again. Sensing a question, he spoke.

"I'm just typing up what the boss offered. I don't hire an accountant." He lied.

They seemed to accept that, barely, as he continued to type up everything that had just transpired, and proceeded to save that last conversation with the mob boss. It was a good little function his gadget had: it could be left to record everything it heard for the last hour, and save individual clips to a server at home. It didn't have a screen, because for Wire, refresh rates only slowed him down. Which is what he was doing now, along with typing up some context: documenting potentially important events always helped him out in the long run. He finished typing, and continued walking. A short 'tick' came from the device as they reached the guesthouse, as a sign that it had successfully uploaded.

He put it back into the duffel bag, and bid his guards a goodbye. He thought on the "out of towner" and conducted some protocols based on what allegiance he may serve: his own, or something greater. He would not know until he spent some time with him, so he instead decided to get some sleep. His stomache growled, but he ignored it.

[i]Food is overrated. Sleep on the other hand...[/i]