Steve misses a few of their words for Governor Jameson's black boot polish responses, only catching Danny complaining as he's walking back, shoveling more of his food into his mouth. Focused so much less on whether it tastes good and more on just getting it in and over and behind him. If it's all there is between him and his next acquisition on the way to Hesse, it doesn't need to keep existing at all.

He's still halfway through one bite, and about to put another heaping forkful in his mouth, when he interrupts throwing Chin a look of barbed and resigned amusement by way of Danny, "Because everyone else on this island knows how to live."

Not that he was knocking the car. But between the suit and the house and the not swimming. It's not living. Not here.

He shoveled the last bite in his mouth, tossing the fork inside the container, and with the lack of a trashcan anywhere like conveniently brought in or within sight, the box gets piled with the others, on the table and the rumple of the bag they came in. He's got bigger things to concern him, when he's rubbing his hands together, and against the thick fabric of his pants, before tossing a thumb over his shoulder toward the door they only too recently came through. "Let's go meet your guy."