Owner	Pose
Wade Wilson	Philadelphia, Pennsylvania... At least, that's what it says on this sign that's been taped over actual sign that is clearly somewhere in New York City. Where? Who knows where? But for all intents and purposes this is probably just Pennsylvania, Avenue. Wade Winston Wilson, aka DEADPOOL, has made his presence forever known as his arrival in a crashed helicopter has set the street into a fit of traffic jammery that can only be described as 'Holy @&*^@#!'. Deadpool is standing on top of what's left of the helicopter that's mostly debris and also still on fire. His suit is singed and torn in various places but Deadpool is standing heroically and looking out at the crowd that has gathered to look at the madness that has been created by the Merc With A Mouth! "Friends! Romans! Comic Sans! Lend me your wallets!" Deadpool has a pair of giant guns in his hands. "It is I! Deadpool! And at the moment? I'm robbing this entire city! Of uh..." Deadpool looks around. "... Philadelphia!" He narrows the lenses of his mask and starts pointing those guns at the various innocents that are nearby. "My best buddy Wolverine, aka THE MOST FAMOUS MUTANT EVER, and I are taking over this popsicle stand! So if you'll kindly place your jewels, cash, car keys, credit cards, cd players and palm pilots into a pile right here in front of this burning helicopter... I won't have to kill you all!"
Logan	Phialdelphia, Pennsylvania... AKA New York City, Pennsylvania Ave. Where Deadpool and his massive guns are holding up a traffic jam with his good friend, the worlds most famous mutant, and star of stage and screen, Wolverine. At least, that's what would be happening: "How much are these?" Logan, AKA Wolverine, asks as he makes his way up the vendor stalls. "Five dollars?" Hmm.. his chin puffs out considering, nodding as he reache sout to grip one of the melons and give it a tenative squeeze to see how ripe it is. "I'll take two." Holding out the one in his hand and selecting a second from the bunch. He's wearing a tanktop, tucked into wrangler jeans, boots, unbottoned red flannel shirt, a fur lined brown leather coat, and a cowboy hat. Because he's not in Pennsylvania. Hell, he's not even in New York. He's in Anchorage, Alaska at a farmers market. Meandering along with his wares towards what looks to be someone selling fresh Honey in one of those stylized ''honey'' jars popularized by the childrens book ''Winnie the Pooh''.
Cain Marko	It's getting so that an incarnation of physical power and destruction can't have an evening that isn't being disrupted by something crazy going on. The other night it was demonstrations in mutant towns and then the attack of a fleet of person sized arcade minion styled Sentinels. Now it's....this. Somehow, this is crazier. So indeed, a certain Mr. Cain Marko had been minding his own business inside a corner convenience store when the helicopter crashed and traffice came to a chaotic and violent halt, resulting in one of the cars swerving onto the sidewalk to avoid debris and whirling rotor blades...and ultimately crashing through the front of said store. Cain turns his attention towards the car, eyes narrowing as it barrels towards him and then slams with a horrendous noise of metal warping and sundering right into him. He doesn't even move. The front of the car curmples like an accordion thuugh the driver had managed to slow enough for the airbag deployment to spare him - given that he just did the equivalent of driving into the side of a battleship. Bursting through the sttorefront was far more gentle. "You gotta be kidding me.." grumbles Cain, brushing off glass, plaster and assorted chips and candy as he kicks a leg up and shoves the car away fro m with a nudge. The store patrons attempt to clear out into the streets...and then come right back in upon hearing Deadpools speech from just over yonder. . "You GOTTA be kiddin' me..."
Domino	Crash landing helos is always a spectacle. Domino can't admit to really /miss/ it, even with her luck it's always a white-knuckled ride in the worst possible ways. But to catch a bird coming down in New York City is a special kind of treat, one which has her grateful as hell to have not been riding down. It sure looks exciting until the chopper vanishes between buildings, soon replaced with smoke and fire. Echoing through the urban canyons is the sound of a high-revving blacked out Ducati operated by one black clad albino mercenary, darting and weaving through traffic as her pursuit now turns into a recovery op. "Bird's on the ground" she reports to Weasel on the other end of the line. "What on Earth has he gotten into this time?" "It wasn't Pixie Stix, I can tell you that much" Weasel sighs. The bike zips around a corner and brakes hard enough to lift the back wheel off the pavement, the rider expertly sweeping it around into a half circle to neatly drop back down along the curb. "Got eyes. Yeah, he's ... very much alive. Um." "Well? What is it?" "He's holding the city at gunpoint. Not even joking. He's demanding valuables." "Right. 'Huffing Draino' is still on the list then." "Uh huh" Dom distractedly replies. "Any idea how Wolverine fits into this picture?" "Say what now?" Dom pulls out her phone and starts recording video of the spectacle, saying in a tired voice "See for yourself. Ornery old Canuck's not even here but Deep is callin' him out." Weasel comes back sounding distraught, "Oh, god. I knew we shouldn't have played Monopoly last night..."
Clarice Ferguson	Now this is a story all 'bout how, Clarice Ferguson was walking down the street in New York City without the theme song to classic 90s sitcom The Fresh Prince of Bel Air in her head. Which is more than you can say now, isn't it reader? 'cause it's stuck in your head now. But seriously, Clarice 'Blink' Ferguson was indeed walking down the sidewalk, minding her own business, radiating a real solid mix of auras. On one hand, it's 2024, so dark pink hair wasn't going to be getting her any attitude. Pointed ears? That might. pink skin? And not that 'Awww, look at that pink skinned baby' pink, like... Pepto Bismol pink? (If you tell her it is Pepto Bismol pink, Blink will stab you. She will stab you in your stabbables.) Yeah, Clarice is a mutant. And that tends to bring trouble in sections of town that aren't called Mutant Town. It also brings trouble in Mutant Town, but usually you hear that trouble coming. So anyway, all 5'6" of Blink is walking down the sidewalk, only drawing like 4/5ths of the attention she could be drawing because her bright green eyes are covered by a pair of mirrored green wraparound shades that hide her green eyes... like, seriously green. Pupils, sclera, other anatomy terms. But the shades fit the theme, as she's wearing a bolero style jacket with long sleeves and an upturned collar in a shimmering but dark green, overtop what looks to be some sort of tactical leotard number that clings to her taut, toned midriff and disappears into a pair of black hip-hugging jeans that are tucked into a pair of knee high boots with a slightly dramatic heel, dramatic enough to rocket 5'6" of Blink tup to a solid 5'10" without seeming to interrupt her natural grace. You know what does interrupt her determined, graceful gait? Burning helicopters and masked lunatics yelling about armed robbery. Oh, sure, she knows the masked lunatic, but she doesn't tune Wade out to a dull roar of white noise on instinct when it's not some sort of X-Force briefing or Brotherhood meeting or... listen, she doesn't do it on the street when he shows up unexpectedly. Which means she gets the full experience of his introduction. The crashing helicopter doesn't get more than a brief confirmation there's no shrapnel flying to deal with. The unhinged yelling about giving up valuables probably gets a roll of her eyes, though it's impossible to see behind those shades. But the mention of Wolverine totally earns a mumbled 'Wha'thefu?' and her head's suddenly on a swivel. Wade's harmless. Okay, Wade's as harmless as a psychotic mercenary with an arsenal to make a drug cartel blush and what would be a terminal lack of self control if he didn't heal from goddamn everything can be. But Wolverine? He's the best there is at what he does. And sometimes what he does is get brainwashed and murder just... a whole goddamn lotta people. Which is why Blink flicks her wrist like she's launching a cigarette butt at her feet, only instead there's a dart of pink energy that erupts into a circular portal in the sidewalk that spawns an identical portal up across the street so that as she falls 'down' into the sidewalk, she comes out 'sideways' to wall run along the front of an apartment building. It's just a temporary measure, but let's see that claw-swinging murder machine get her now. She just needs a few seconds to come up with a plan.
Wade Wilson	Whether or not some of the people around here are actually parting with their stuff is pretty irrelevant. Mostly because of the fact that Deadpool is not really trying to rob the entire city or maybe he is. Even he doesn't know what he's trying to do. All that truly matters is that he's standing on top of a terrible and horrible helicopter crash with a pair of giant guns and pretty much causing way too much mayhem to be actually doing anything illegal. R "That's right, see! Yeah! You coppers'll never take me alive, see! Yeah! They call me Dead 'The Swimming' Pool, see! And I'm the finest mobster this city's ever gonna' see, see!" For some reason he's now dressed like a horrible Dick Tracy villain wearing a black and red gangster suit (with fedora) over the red and black suit of his mercenary styling -- and when did those guns become Tommy Guns? Okay, well, this is just getting weirder. Dead 'The Swimming' Pool hops down off the fiery crash and starts struttin' in the direction of some innocents. "That's it, that's it! Reach for the skies, yeah! Me and The Wolverine'll be takin' this city by storm and youse mooks is gonna' have to recognize that we nows runnin' this whole thing! Kingpin just opened today so now it's up to us to fill in that spot, see!" Wade's gangster accent is horrible. But fitting. "Buh-buh-buh.... but who are you guys?!" The obviously paid local actor (known by the shirt that says Paid Local Actor) tosses his sides into the trash can and then goes back to looking horribly scared. And by horribly I mean he's not at all good at this acting thing. Deadpool has been waiting for this moment and makes sure to look in the direction of anyone that may be filming with their phones. "We're THE LEAKY GRINDERS!"
Logan	LOBSTERS. Logan can't remember the last time he had a good lobster. Obviously, if he's going to find good seafood it's either Boston or Alaska, which makes sense given that's one of the major trades this far north. He stops at a vendor offering fresh caught lobsters, with their claws bundled up in one red and one black rubberbands and kneels down to peer through the glass at them. There's one, a big boy, standing atop the wreckage of a toy helicopter. It's almost amusing... obviously not amusing enough that he wouldn't boil that son of a bitch and coating him with enough garlic butter that even his healing factor can fight the heart failure... But still amusing. "I'll take that one." He points to the big guy. "And a wad of them shrimp." He motions to another tank. Wallet out of his back pocket, bag of melons balanced in his curved arm at the elbow to fish out the fifty from the old leather folding billfold to pass over to the grizzled feller running the stall. Two bags, bundled together, Logan scratches at his beard. It's come in pretty thick recently, more so since moving out into the cold. And his hair is almost past his shoulders at this point. <"Breaking news from New York-"> Logan keeps it moving. As far away from anything going on in ''Pennyslvania'' as he can possibly get himself.
Cain Marko	In the present absence of Logan it seems it has fallen to Cain to play the straight man to Deadpools brand of chaos. How unfortunante. "What th'hell are you -doing- Wade?!" he thunders as he steps out of the broken remnants of the front wall of the store. His passage brings the rest of the front of the building down in the process because, well, Juggernaut. The wall shouldn't have been there then. "You're ruining my day here!" HIs identity as -The- Juggernaut is probably not known to the locals who just see a gargantuan yelling red haired behemoth... but they seem to get enough of a hint to keep out of his way as clouds of dust and debris follow in his wake on his approach towards the streets. "You -trying- to bring some capes down on your head?" He looks over the area, nose wrinkling and eyes crinkling as he considers the chaotic mess ...and then he frowns mildly as if fianlly calling to his mind something he overheard in Deadpools initial entrance rant. "Huh? I thought Wolverine was here..."
Domino	"Are you getting this?" Domino has to ask. "Yeah, I'm getting this..." Weasel replies. "Sooo...ideas? We should probably stop this, right?" she asks while staring vacantly at the zany antics of a guy she had known for some time and shared more than enough booze and gunfire with over the years. In a more vacant tone, she repeats "We should probably stop this." In truth she HAD been concerned Wade might be slipping. Maybe the crazy comes and goes though, it's not like there's a script. Well, there probably is if you asked Wade about it. He might even hand you a copy if you asked nice. Which...all things considered might not be the worst possible option for her to follow up with. "I could always shoot him in the head" she offers, perhaps sounding a little /too/ interested with the idea. "What?! You can't just ... I mean that'd be really ... That's mean, Dom. That's mean and you know it." "He'll bounce back" she counters with a half shrug. "Besides, do you know of any /other/ reset buttons on the guy?" Weasel sounds hesitant, "Well --" "You of all people should know the first rule of I.T." Domino cuts him off in the same motion she kills the bike's engine. "That's not --" "Oh, shit" she suddenly changes her tune, recognizing the sprinting flash of PINK in the middle of the city. "Hang on, fate just dealt me a Wild card." "Are we talking like a 'wild' Wild card, or a 'Draw Four' Wild card?" "I think this one comes with unlimited draws" she thinks while sprinting across the hoods and roofs of jammed up and abandoned cars. "HEY, BLI-IINK!" The ground shudders. The front of a building collapses. So, too, does the albino lady as the vibrations cause her boot to slip across the hood of a car and send her sideways onto sculpted sheet steel with a *WHUNK*. It's soon followed by a *rrrrRRRR--* as she slides down the front to collapse onto the pavement beside the front bumper. "Did you seriously just fall off of a ca--" "/Shut it/, Weasel."
Clarice Ferguson	Clarice is a solid half dozen steps of impressively acrobatic wall running when her situational awareness starts to catch up to what's going on. Wade's rambling and pulling his goddamn schtick where he talks like a mobster and generally makes 'Wade Wilson is bored' everyone's goddamn problem. And in the wake of a car crash, out steps... The Juggernaut? Oh come _on_! The world's greatest poster child for the threat of evil mutants, even though he's not a mutant... and notoriously bad humored! Or at least she's pretty sure he's bad humored. He's definitely always angry it seems. And she's not expecting him to take Deadpool's whole... /thing/ interrupting his... yep, see? He just said it. And then Blink realizes she sees a familiar figure! Well, like, familiar in a 'I actually know her' way, not 'Wow, that huge guy's so big he's like the Juggernaut and also we've met professionally'. Like, she /knows/ Neena. They've hung out. Clarice isn't taking responsibility for Neena tripping, even though she totally called out to her before it happened, and now the wall is... ohhhh boy. Fortunately, living on an asteroid base with its very own high tech training system means that Blink knows just what to do when her own foot slips on the wall.She starts to fall and throws out another dart Portal opens below her, and as she falls in head over heels, she pops out down at street level 'falling' upwards, only to land on her butt next to Domino. She glances sidelong and hisses out, "I hate him. I hate him SO much. Have you seen Wolverine?"
Wade Wilson	Deadpool takes a moment to sniff the air. "Is that... is that..." He sniffs harder. A bit too hard, honestly. "CAIN MARKO YOU SON OF A @(&@#!" The Tommy Guns get tossed over his shoulder and by the time Deadpool makes it over to where Cain is, he's no longer dressed like a mobster. Guess that's the end of the Leaky Grinders. "Hey, since you kind of just destroyed a whole building -- would you mind taking credit for the chopper? I think it belonged to one of news stations and I don't think people are gonna' get their traffic report any time soon." Wade nods backwards to what's left of the helicopter. "Besides, you're the one on a healthy Flintstone Vitamin diet. Your rep can take it." Wade reaches out to pat Cain on the chest. And maybe get an extra rub in. So muscles. Mrowr. "Thanks, pal. You're the breast." Wade doesn't even correct himself before turning back to the crowd... if anyone is even still here. "By the way! It's not just Deadpool and Wolverine -- who I swear is here as well! -- but I'm also bringing my secret weapon! THE SECRET IDENTITY OF THE JUGGERNAUT!" Wade realizes how close he is to Cain and takes a step to the right. "WHO IS NOT HERE YET BUT WILL BE HERE VERY SOON! IT IS DEFINITELY NOT THIS HUGE MAN RIGHT HERE NEXT TO ME! NO, THIS IS JUST A MAN THAT I SHARED MY UBER BLACK WITH!" Wade turns to Cain and uh... winks? Hard to tell. Mask.
Logan	''Have you seen her?''     'Have you seen her.'     ''Have you, have you, seen her.'' One of the big attractions for this years Anchorage, Alaska is an MC Hammer cover group. Logan stands, with his bags carried in the curve of his arm, which are otherwise folded across his barrel chest atop the furred brown coat in a small gathering of onlookers and revilers. ''At the movie, in my car, on the stareo. At the game, a different world, or the Cosby Show.'' "Huh... that didn't age well." He murmurs to himself. <"Reports say that Dea-"> Logan shakes his head and keeps moving. Bundling up his bags in the twist of one grizzled hand as he makes his way towards the beat up old FORD truck, outwardly anyways, that truck purrs like a kitten. "Now it's stuck in my head." He grumbles, squeel of the door needing oil, clank. "Have you seen'er... have you have you seen'er, seen'er..." Rurr-girg girg. Shift downward, reverse. His arm lays across the back of the seat, turning enough to look behind him after tossing the cowboy hat atop his bag of produce in the bench seat beside him.
Cain Marko	Well wait now, Cain's not angry -all- the time. In fact, he can be quite nice! Happy! Jovial even! Jolly! You should see the big grin on his face when he's obliterating things, crushing his enemies or unfairly demonstrating his unthinkable power on those hopelessly outmatched against him. He's practically glowing then! Right now, he's simmering at around a 6 out of 10. and he just glares at Wade as he approaches him and begins running off at the mouth at his usual mach 10 speed. "What? No!" he protests when the helicopter is pointed out. "Take care of your own damn mess!" Then Deadpool....fondles him? Lays hands on him? Uncomfortably runs his fingers across his torso? He's at about a 9 out of 10 now. "Wade.." he rumbles through gritted teeth. Then his identity is spoiled-not spoiled..and his temper is boiling at the 11. A massive arm lashes out, big hand reaching out and down with his huge fingers splayed and gigantic palm descending to try and swiftly grasp for Deadpools head.. Visions of exploding melons might fill peoples minds should he lay hold of it. Juicy melons such as those found only in a delicious farmers market. Perhaps in Alaska. In Anchorage, Alaska.
Domino	Like a good neighbor, Ferguson is there! The pink on pink teleporter pops up from nowhere and plops down beside Domino who, for the moment, is just sitting there on the road with her back against a taxi's bumper like she had been chilling there this entire time and hadn't just scored herself some fresh bruises for no damn good reason at all. Rather than offer another verbal greeting she reaches over to fist-bump the other lady. "Which? Deadpool or the walking dump truck?" she wonders while already having a /pretty good idea/ who Blink is referring to. "Not hide nor hair nor whiff of cigars. Pretty sure he only exists in Deadpool's head...which I'm debating helping him with" she suggests while calmly drawing a handgun and popping the magazine to check for ammo which she knows darn well is already there. "I'm still here, you know" Weasel deadpans. "Whup -- sorry Weas, going through a tunnel!" "Wait no don't you dare h--!" Back to Blink, Dom continues. "Buuut..." she cranes her head to look back at Cain Marko's imposing form and thunder-boomery voice, now with Deadpool not at all subtly suggesting that dudebro is also the Juggernaut, "the way this hand's going I may be able to kick my feet up, instead." The mag gets slapped back into her sidearm with a click then Dom finally turns to look at Blink. "How's it going? We should get trashed sometime, been too long." Said with an idle backward roll of pistol around index finger. "But first, let's enjoy the show" she grins, climbing back to her feet. The thing about shows? They're always better with booze. "Now I'm really craving a Melon Sunrise" she mutters.
Clarice Ferguson	Blink's eyebrows perk up from behind her shades and she hisses out a sharp breath, "Oh my god, if he wrecked Channel Six's news chopper..." Her head tilts towards Neena, her lips press into a thin line. "You can't... okay, you shouldn't... we... it's... I mean..." Her lips quirk, "It's like... I mean... it's not like it would..." In comes a slow breath, Clarice counts to five in her head. "...He uhh... he's /actually/ come back from being shot in the head before, right? So it's not... it's... like... I mean... sure you'd be shooting him in the head but you wouldn't be... /shooting him in the head/..." The pink elf leans over to try and crane her head around the car bumper she is /also/ leaning back against to eye Cain and Wade carefully. "I mean... maybe we let Big Red just..." She smacks a fist into a palm wordlessly. And then that fist is disappearing into her jacket, and out comes her phone, complete with Otterbox case. Because she loses a lot of phones to... misadventure. Fingers begin to fly as she mumbles, "That's it, I'm texting him. If he's actually around here, he can come... stab Wade a bunch. And if he's not, he can... get on a goddamn plane. And come stab Wade a bunch." And that's when Clarice sends a blistering tirade of invective to Logan's number. Or, you know, the number she has in her phone as Logan's number. ...When did she get that again?
Wade Wilson	"WAAAAAAAAAIT!" Deadpool holds up his hands in front of Cain to stop him for just a moment. At least a hesitation. And then proceeds to take that time to scoop up a couple of wallets that actually did get tossed into the pile. He takes a couple extra seconds to snatch the cash out of them before pouching the wallets and the cash separately. There's a bit of a smug wiggle that comes from Deadpool as he feels both seen and recognized with his latest acquisition. That done, Wade swings his head back into Juggernaut grabbing position. "Okay. Go ahead. But this time, could you aim me Southwest? Maybe you can do a better job than the chopper did!" Wait, is Deadpool trying to use Cain's super strength as a mode of transportation?! Yes. Yes, he is. Go on, Cain. Throw him. Hold on. Wade? "Alright, Big Sexy. Throw me." Thank you. "Anytime."
Logan	Dun-nunt-nunt-nunt, nunt, nun-nun-nun-nun...     Dun-nunt-nunt-nunt, nunt, nun-nun-nun-nun... "Fuck." Logan has a cigar in his teeth, leaning towards the uncapped zippo flame, when the flip phone starts chirping that annoying ring somewhere in one of the corners of his truck. He damn near drops his lighter, but manages to lean over enough to check the glove box, where the phone is not. Dun-nunt-nunt-nunt, nunt, nun-nun-nun-nun...     Dun-nunt-nunt-nunt, nunt, nun-nun-nun-nun... "Hold your tits, I'm comin'.." He fishes beneath the seat, *HOOONK* "SORRY!" He shouts at the rolled up window, nearly side swiping someone in the process. Hand fumbling about until he comes falls on something roughly the right shape. Nope. It's a match box car. Dun-nunt-nunt-nunt, nunt, nun-nun-nun-nun...     Dun-nunt-nunt-nunt, nunt, nun-nun-nun-nun... It's right there on the drave shaft, near the speedomoter. He grabs it, flips it open, and holds it up to his ear. "What?" But by then the call has already gone to voicemail. He brings the phone away from his ear and looks at the small green/black screen. "Gotta call Kitty and figure out how to check my voice mail again." Grumbling to himself.
Cain Marko	Cain's eyes twitch. His fingers spasm. His teeth grit into a visible bulldoggish snarl and one can almost see smoke coming out of his ears. Actually maybe smoke -is- coming out of his ears and nostrils as his skin turns a brighter red. It could very well be the Deadpool effect. The same effect that does indeed cause him to wait as if preparing for the absolute best timing to lay hands upon the Merc WIth A Mouth. The time comes when Deadpool gets back in position and makes his request known. The giant man lets out a bullish rumbling snort and then clamps his han down upon Deadpools skull....and to his credit he simply liifts up and doesn't attempt a squeeze that would turn super alloy into putty. Instead Deadpool is raised up towards being level with Cain's head and the huge man leans in and rumbles: "I'll bill ya for the milage later." Hopefully he won't aim for orbit. With that, he pulls back, turns, spins and then drags Deadpool around head first in a massive whirling discus style throw - releasing the mercenary after dragging his arm around to send him hurtling upwards into the air in a wide arc towards the southwest. He'll clear the buildings rapidly - hopefully. Well he might clip a few of them. Possibly.
Domino	There's a lot of protesting from Blink to the idea of ramping things up on a ballistic level but when she slaps a fist into her own palm Domino just about busts up laughing. "Yeah, that" she agrees with a showing of teeth. Then there's the idea of Logan coming in and stabbing him a bunch which gets another drawn out nod from the albino. This all changes the moment Clarice has a phone in hand and starts contacting Logan. "You actually have his number?" she asks. "He actually /has a phone?/" A glance from Clarice to Cain. A glance from Cain back to Clarice. "You could just teleport him here, couldn't you." It's not a question as much as it is a statement. "Yeah, I'm saving my bullets" she decides, neatly tucking her gun back into its holster. "I know a self-correcting problem when I see one." Arms fold. Arms unfold to nonchalantly rub at the side she fell onto. Arms fold again. Cain looks like he's blown a gasket. "Wade makes us all feel that way..." she says more to herself. Wait for iiit... "Hundred bucks says he makes it past 98th" she bets with an upnod toward Cain and Deadpool where one is looking awfully ready to be sent into low Earth orbit by the other who is now /holding him by the head./ And there's the toss! Domino starts clapping.
Clarice Ferguson	Shoulders shrug as Clarice sighs out, "I mean, I've got /a/ number. I'm sure the X-Men just like... get one of their MANY MANY TELEPATHS to tickle his brain. Us hardscrabble sorts gotta rely on more mundane options." Because Clarice is /unaware/ of any Brotherhood recruitments of telepaths. "Oh god no, I think I heard he's like... up in Alaska. I can't do that kind of range. I'd have to like... hopscotch all the way there. By then, I'm sure someone will ha-" Clarice cuts off. Looks up. "...Y'know, I bet he always wanted to be a lawndart." She sighs out and stands up slowly, arms stretching, fingers lacing above her head as she spins about on her heel and throws a wave Cain's way, "Thanks! That was... thanks!" And then she looks down at Domino and grins brightly, "We do need to catch up! ...Drinks on the asteroid sometime? They've still got the waffle bar too. I mean, if you haven't got anything else going on and all I could give you a lift." Yep. Just another Thursday in Philadelphia.