[ his eyes pick up a little more sadness, and he nods. yeah. space. the final frontier of not knowing what the fuck is going on. that's frank castle's life now. which is why he clings to tending bar and starting gardens and any mundane task he can get his hands on. ]

Lean back to engage them.

[ if peter does as he's told the magboots have a little panel in the heel that glows as they grip onto the metal grating of the floor. frank shakes his head, tossing the rag down and leaning on the bar top with an elbow a second. ]

Hell's Kitchen. Me and Max. [ he lazily points to them both. yeah he's fucking heard of it. he never thought he'd miss it like he does right now. ] There are a few of us. New Yorkers. ...And one from Jersey City. I guess she's okay too.