"Tequila," was her answer to Rankin's little sob story. She drained that one quick, too, and rolled her eyes. He'd always been so woe-is-me but she knew the place he was talking about upstate and if what she knew about it was true Mr. Ex-Convict had been living the life of luxury. While she'd been stuck in a shithole S.H.I.E.L.D. prison to wait out the apocalypse- not that she had anything to complain of now with living in Hammer's digs but the fact was she'd dealt with all kinds of crap and this guy was whining about what sounded like a pretty sweet deal. Playing babysitter with the X-men, wah wah what a terrible life. The fact that he was there at all told her that he hadn't really jumped parole. It was less of a hidey-hole in her opinion then another prison where he might think he was free but she would bet her ass they'd turn on him faster than he could turn on them and S.H.I.E.L.D. would show up in a heartbeat with the handcuffs. Let him have his delusion, it would fit on nicely with all the others.
"Pretty good," she replied to his question and tapped the bar to get her shot glass filled. "Escaped from the Raft," she said conversationally, "Living in a penthouse."