Owner	Pose
Maria King	The backroom of the run down bar is not any better than the main bar itself. A table with a few chairs around it is used a few nights a week for a poker game. The kind of game you'd best bring a knife to, and not cheat unless you are ready to have to use it. A few boxes are stacked along the wall, a filing cabinet and some other things as the room is half-used for storage. The three men seated around the table are drinking from a pitcher. One, balding, with a tattoo of a knife on the side of his head, leans back in his chair as he takes a drink from his freshly filled glass. "I'm telling ya, if we went with an even split it should have been more than this," he says to the other two men. One of whom is kind of mousy looking, with a habitual tic. The other has a thick, thick beard and head of hair that earned him the nickname 'Shaggy'. Tic frowns and looks over to Shaggy. "What do you think? Did it seem right?" he asks. He pulls out a stack of bills from inside his coat and begins cutting them out. "Let's ask Cain when he gets here. If Marco is screwing us, he's going to want to know. He's the only one who knew a fence who would handle it though, so I don't even know who else to go to, to find out if it was a fair cut?"
Cain Marko	Usually Cain doesn't work with low-level thugs like this. But some jobs require multiple sets of hands, even if some of them are normal people. Doesn't mean he makes good friends with them or anything. After getting the word that the merchandise has been sold, he made his way to the bar. The trio can hear loud footsteps from the front, and then the door not quite slams open as Cain fills it. Since he's working, he's wearing his working clothes. The mountain of muscle and crimson armor more than filling the doorway as he squeezes through, straightening up and then peering down at the three. The top of his domed helmet brushes against the ceiling. "Guys. You got the money?" His voice is a deep, rough rumble. He has that sort of presence that some superhumans develop that's almost suffocating. Like he might crush them just standing there. His eyes shift to the money on the table, all divided up. He is not taking an even split with the other three. Reaching out for the biggest stack, he picks it up, then thumbs through it counting. After a time, a frown settles onto his features, eyes narrowing through the holes in his helmet. He gives the trio of thugs a glare. "You guys holding out on me?"
Maria King	Bringing in the Juggernaut definitely required him getting several times that of each of the other crew members. Though each was himself rather skilled in his particular area, and necessary for the overall job. As Cain expresses his dissatisfaction with the count in his stack, Baldy leans back in his chair. "We were just talking about that," he says, eyeing the immense superhuman a little warily. "This is what we got from Marco. He said this was all he was able to get for the goods." Shaggy lets out a little snort. With the beard and hair, and a thick build he resembles Hagrid from Harry Potter more than anyone, but not nearly as large as the half-giant. "It's about two-thirds what I was expecting," he says. "I don't know the exact market for those kind of tech goods. But yeah, this seems short to me." He takes a long drink from his glass, and then fills an extra glass they had for Cain. "If anyone's holding out, it's Marco, not us. You have any idea what that stuff was worth?" he asks Cain.
Cain Marko	Cain lets out a deep rumble as he recounts the money, making sure he didn't make a mistake. No, that's what he thought it was. His displeasure deepens. "More than this. I should have gone to make the sale myself." People were usually slower to try and rip him off when they actually saw who they were dealing with. He eventually splits off part of the stack, an amount equivalent to what the three of them should have made if they received the proper price for their stolen goods. He tosses it back onto the table. "I'm gonna go have a talk with Marco," said Marko. "I'll send you a message when I find out what's up." He turns away from the table, and ducks back through the door again. Moving through the bar. The stomping is noticeably louder than when he enters, and there's the sound of glass cracking, even if not shattering, when he opens the front door and exits the building. And then he's making his way through the late night streets. People coming from the opposite direction quickly crossing when they spot the crimson giant thundering along. "Alright you little ****, you better have a good explanation for me." It's so hard to find reliable people sometimes.
Maria King	It's a bit of a trip to Marco's house. There's a bus that leaves from down on the corner that will greatly shorten the trip. Plus it has the benefit of having heat, given the sub-freezing weather of nighttime December in New York at present. The pulls up, the driver's eyes widening a bit at the size and appearance of the man waiting there. Perhaps figuring just trying to drive off would be worse than letting him on, the doors on the side of the bus open up. The entire bus tilts to that side slightly as Cain steps up into the vehicle. Thankfully there aren't very many people in it so the shocks are able to handle the weight. There's an Asian older man who glances at Juggernaut and then just keeps his eyes forward rather than looking at him again. Three seats back is an elderly woman with a small dog seated in her lap.
Cain Marko	While he could run there probably faster than a bus, that would end up drawing the attention of somebody in tights. So Cain goes to a bus stop. It's a tight fit getting in, and he has to basically inch along sideways to reach his seat. He's at least not enough of a jerk to avoid stepping on anybody, including the old man and elderly woman. Eventually settling in several seats towards the back. He shifts in place then leans back. The seat creaking somewhat in protest. Once they start to move, there's the occasional brief scraping sound of metal on pavement whenever they hit a bump in the road, Cain ignoring that all and staring broodily out the window. Public transportation. He really needs to get a truck or something big enough for him to drive like this.
Maria King	While the man is looking anywhere but at Cain, the elderly woman keeps glancing over at him. The dog was napping in her lap, but wakes up at the sound of the undercarriage scraping against pavement. It wags its tail as it looks up at her, and then spots Cain sitting back there. Yip yip yip! The dog starts barking at him and gives a little protective growl towards the strange looking man. Whose palm is practically as big as the entire dog itself is.
Cain Marko	The yipping doesn't register at first, but eventually Cain's eyes track down to the little lap dog barking at him, and his lips thin as they press together. Really? Having to take a bus isn't humiliating enough? Now he has an oversized rat yapping away at him? Geez. He just looks at it for a few seconds, then turns his attention away again. His already not stellar mood is steadily worsening. It's not going to be a good time for Marco when he gets to his place, that was for sure.