Owl arrived in America with little more than a suitcase full of bad decisions and an empty stomach. The trip across the Atlantic had been long, cramped and full of desperate people who had left their old lives behind. Like everyone else he had come here to carve out a new destiny for himself in the land of the free. 

Straight off the boat, the city greeted him with a breath of (mostly) fresh air and the promise of opportunity. Lights, cars, newspapers, people in a rush, and buildings as tall as the eye could see. This place was alive. 

Owl drifted through the streets, adjusted to it's rhythm and observed it's stage, as men made deals and sealed fates. He quickly learned which names carried weight, and the ones who did their dirty work, with it realizing his unfortunate disposition. He who walked alone would not stand a chance against the dangers of this world, dangers that where lurking the dark, but perhaps more frighteningly, the ones in plain view. 

With what little experience he had, Owl set out to make name for himself. Through petty crimes and small-time drug deals, rumors began to spread about a competent newcomer who knew how to stay out of trouble, unless trouble came looking for him. On the streets, he earned a reputation as a man of his word, someone who got things done. 

Owl knew that a flimsy reputation alone would not be enough to forge his new path. In this place power came from alliances, and survival depended on loyalty. As such, he lingered in bars, backrooms and at the edge of poker tables. Listening, watching.. Waiting for a chance to present itself.

After all, he hadn't come all this way just to be a nobody. 

Dynamite was walking down the busy Streets and was trying to make it to his next appointment. In his rush, he accidentally bumped into a gentleman who was standing taking in the sounds of the Streets.

"Oh god, sorry about that," Dynamite said to the man. He glanced into the man's eyes and could see he was impressed with the area, but was cut short by the abrupt and unexpected physical encounter. 

Dynamite stepped back and saw that a few lockpicks fell from the man. He helped pick up the lockpicks to give back to the unknown man.

"Listen, I know this is our first time meeting, but if you are interested in some work, give me a call," Dynamite said as he gave the man his business card.

Owl looked down on the business card in his hand, running his thumb across the embossed letters. His eyes then looked back up at the man who handed it to him. With a quick nod, he tucked the card safely away, "Dynamite, an interesting name for an interesting encounter".

"Looks like these trusty old tools can open more than just doors eh?", Owl said with a smile as he pocketed the recovered lockpicks.

With a tip of his hat, he continued, "I have a feeling we can do good business together, I'll be in touch". 

Dynamite let out a smirk at Owl's quick and witty lockpick line. He nodded at Owl and walked back onto his route, hoping to hear from his new acquaintance.