Cordelia sized him up like a prize fighter staring down a rowdy drunk, as if she was trying to decide if he was worth her time. Didn't bother him unduly, dressing up as gaudily as he did you had to be prepared for folks to stare. He just sat patiently, eyes rolling slowly across her now bare wrists, taking in the faint scars and hint of ink. [i]Aye, definitely not the Leagues usual type of recruit. Isn't that refreshing?[/i] He couldn't help but notice how much pastries and sweets she had piled up on her plate, and how quickly she was putting it away, like she wasn't used to being so well provided for. Maybe she just saw the League as a free meal? Hell, she wouldn't be the first one through the doors with that kinda idea. It took a while, but he finally seemed to pass muster, Whisper, or Cord as she apparently preferred to go by, finally started to speak to him. 

Tommy laughed, warm and genuine, at her suggestions for his next pick up line. 

“Would ya believe me if ah told ya ah was one ah the first to put on brightly coloured tights and risk ma life on a daily basis after the awakening, and ah've honestly never thought to use that line in ma puff!” It was true. Just because you got superpowers didn't mean you also got a way with words. Silvertongue was always getting at him for the lacklustre quality of his puns. He chuckled again. He found himself warming to Cord, enjoying her no-bullshit attitude. Too many people he dealt with nowadays were either politician's or wannabe celebrity’s, always smiling outta the side of their heads. 

“Ok, Cord it is, though ah'm 'fraid ah'll have to insist on ye calling me Volt. No offence, ah'm just no the trusting sort.” He shrugged, as if to say 'Nothing personal'. Which it wasn't. The Lightning-Slinger still hadn't told Sonja his real name, and by his reckon she'd pulled his bacon from the fire three times in the last six months. 

This was good, he decided, discourse was good. Volt was just starting to think he could make some sorta leeway with Cord, maybe she was a bit guarded but that was hardly uncommon. She seemed ready to be receptive to whatever he had to say anyway.[i] I gotta say, I ain't half bad at this induction lark. Shift over Apogee, the League has a new public face! [/i]Aye, everything was going swimmingly, until that bloody numpty Hot-Rod stuck his big nose in. 

Volt had met Hot-Rod, otherwise known as Ryker Charleston, in the Fortress, a Chicago club well known for catering to super powered clients. Then, like now, Ryker had 'invited' himself to a conversation he wasn't strictly part of. Terrible manners not withstanding, after Volt had got to know Ryker he'd realised he was one of the 'good ones'. Sure, he had a fat head, bad timing and was in desperate need of a boot up the arse, but his heart was in the right place. But of course he was just the sorta show-boater that would be sure to piss off Cord. 

The lady in question had gone stiff as a statue when the speedster arrived, her whole body going rigid. Volt had plenty of dealings with real hard types in the past to know this lassie was one of them, or at least knew what she was doing. She didn't so much flinch as she just stopped making any sudden movements, her slow gaze swivelling to fix Ryker in place. Yeah, she was dangerous alright, but it wasn't an obvious type of danger. Her shadow though, deep and black and swaying like a dancing cobra, that looked dangerous. [I]Jesus, listen to me. A dangerous looking shadow. What a world we live in.[/i]

The Lightning-Slinger tried, and failed, to hold in an irratated sigh, rolling his eyes and mouthing along as Ryker described himself as 'America's favourite hero'. Only six months he'd known the man, but Volt felt he'd heard that line more often than he'd had hot dinners. Never heard anyone else say that Hot-Rod was their favourite hero though. Still, if nothing else you had to admire the man's confidence. [i]Though I reckon that brass neck must slow him down some.[/i] 

"Ryker, this here is Cord. Me and Cord were just having a lil private one-to-one, see if I couldn't help settle her into our little club." He put as much emphasis on 'private' as possible, mostly because the past had shown that Hot-Rod was just fucking terrible at picking up on social ques. He tried to give Ryker a look that said 'I'll explain later', but it wouldn't have surprised him overly much if the speedster stuck around to argue his case. If there was one thing Hot-Rod loved more than being a hero, it was talking. The Scotsman decided not to give his friend the chance though, turning his attention back to Cord. 

"Nah, ah ain't bullshitting ya. For one ah doubt it woulda worked, 'Cannae bullshit a bullshitter' as my da always says. And no, coincidentally, he never did nothing but love me. Ah can't stand the life, or mosta the people, ah shit ma breeks at the starta every fight I get into, and ah hate the way ah look in tights. Ah do this cause ah have to. If ah could ah'd give it all up right now and get the next plane home."

"Truth be told ah'm here talking to ya cause the high hegions felt ye could do with someone to talk to. So, in their infinite wisdom, they sent me. Lucky bint that ye are." he smiled at that, his warm blue eyes sparkling with good humour. 

"So, if in ya ever feel the need to talk, know that ah'm willing to lend an ear." He shrugged again, as if to say that she could do what she wanted, he wasn't her boss.