[center][h1][color=dodgerblue]PRT Headquarters[/color][/h1][/center]
[@yoshua171][@solokolos][@Kafka Komedy][@BCTheEntity][@Lugubrious]

Sonar, or Collin as he had introduced himself, smiled and nodded as each of his team introduced themselves to Tulpa. They were a newly composed team of Wards, but he had taken the time to get to know them in the few weeks they had been together. That's what they knew. Of course it was only logical to assume that he had gotten to know them far better than they knew him, but that was an unfortunate facet of his power. Even with the helmet to help matters, he couldn't turn it off. Such was his curse, but also his blessing.

[color=lightblue]"Sorry guys, we can't keep chatting. Something is up. Ira went to the firing range and something unauthorized is in there talking to her. We've gotta move!"[/color] Thus Sonar urged his team out of the room. The firing range was down only one floor, part of the larger practice attachment, so they could quickly and easily get there via a nearby stairwell. Like any good leader, Sonar was at the head of the charge. If any chose not to follow him, he didn't particularly chastise them for it. His priority was in reaching Epsilon and whatever this object was that was communicating with her. [color=lightblue]"The name is Overlook. Expert hacker and strategist. Glad to be in the presence of a similar individual for a change, it's really lonely where I am."[/color] Sonar repeated the words he heard from the... He wasn't sure what it was, honestly. His powers didn't actually work the same as his namesake, so he couldn't map out the area, just hear all the sounds as though they were right next to him. [color=lightblue]"You're really good with that gun, by the way."[/color]

At that moment the leader of the Wards kicked in the door to the shooting range. Spotting the apple-sized drone, he strode forward, placing a hand on his ear mounted communication device. [color=lightblue]"This is Sonar to Decoy. We've got an unauthorized breach in the shooting range. It appears to be some sort of small drone with a speaker system, engaged with Epsilon. The operator claims to be a parahuman going by the name-"[/color]

Sonar was cut off as nearby hologram projectors kicked in, emitting the image of an overweight Japanese man. Decoy was now, effectively, on the scene. [color=cyan]"Overlook, I am aware,"[/color] spoke the hologram. Well, the hologram didn't speak, but it moved in a life-like fashion and the speaker emitted the words perfectly synced with the light image's lips, so it appeared to speak for all intents and purposes. The voice that came was deep, and heavy with an Onaka accent. [color=cyan]"I detected the intrusion as soon as the drone had entered our ventilation system. Don't worry, I've already gotten into Overlook's systems. Kudos, by the way. You've got a really nice setup. I'd like to exchange notes..."[/color] The hologram gave pause, then lifted its glasses as though it were focusing on reading something. [color=cyan]"... Ruben."[/color]

[hr][hr]

[h2][center][color=1b1464]Overlook's Bunker.[/color][/center][/h2]
[@Banana]

As Ruben Manhattan controlled his RC drone, other bits of his computer system were left vulnerable, if even only a little bit. An instant message popped up on one of his monitors under the username "TheRe@lD3c0y."

[i]I've tracked your signal. Your presence in the PRT building is an unauthorized entry. Any reason I shouldn't take you in on a federal offense?[/i]

[hr][hr]

[center][h1][color=red]Icehouse Hideout[/color][/h1][/center]
[@yoshua171][@Eklispe][@Kafka Komedy][@BCTheEntity]

Well that was unexpected, and just a touch rude. The Broker stood over the kitchen counter now with one extra cup of coffee and nothing to do with it. He [i]offered[/i] something. [i]For free![/i] That insufferable, ungrateful, [i]philistine[/i] or an arrogant [i]worm![/i] Didn't he have [i]any[/i] understanding of what offering that coffee [i]meant[/i] for the Broker?! The man took a deep breath, and instantly all his rage washed away like footprints on a sandy beach. Had anybody been paying attention, they'd never have even noticed the severe emotional turmoil that had only seconds ago been raging within him. Well, not unless they had superhuman perception, or had empathic abilities, but they didn't. The Broker knew that before he went out to recruit them. Instead of giving in to the burning anger, instead of taking the mug of coffee and hurling it right at Headhunter's face, he smiled. 

[color=purple]"Perhaps I should have done my research proper so as to know that I shouldn't have offered you coffee,"[/color] he said, pleasantly enough in his North English accent. [color=purple]"Perhaps I can get you something else instead? Tea? Cola? Juice? Water?"[/color] Whatever Headhunter would respond with, the Broker would ensure that it was placed in front of the mercenary assassin, then took his own place at the round table. 

The manner in which this man sat was incredibly proper. His back adjusted until it was fully erect, his posture impeccable, and his eye contact constant. This was a man that had grown up in a high society position, or had his manners drilled into him since birth, possibly through violent methods. Regardless, he addressed each member at the table with a sociable, almost friendly tone, as though this weren't a meeting of villains coming together for business, that he wasn't their employer, but that they were friends starting some kind of new club. [color=purple]"I believe that first on the agenda should be out introductions. Mister Headhunter here is a mercenary of some reputation. Most people believe him to simply be a long distance killer of some great skill, which is true on its own, but he is in fact a thinker. Next we have Mister Chatterbox. His voice is addicting, and I do not mean to say that he is particularly charming, though you are of course. I have required that he grant each of you immunity to this ability so as to maintain... Professional trust. Which brings us to Mister,er, or is it Miss? Love Craft. I must say, I am amused by your name of choice. Love Craft here is a shifter with the ability to alter his or her body structure on a cellular level. Quite impressive. Finally, our youngest member. Miss... Well, as you don't have a name in the cape community, I will respect any wish for privacy you might have and not reveal your legal name. She is a stranger, able to phase through and ignore not just physical phenomena, but anything she chooses, so long as her eyes remain shut."[/color]

The Broker leaned forward ever so slightly and flashed a smile that could be seen as equal parts charming and Freddy Kruger. [color=purple]"And of course you all know that I am The Broker, your benefactor. I have gone through no small amount of trouble to track each of you down so that your talents and skills can be best put to use for mutual benefits. To the public of Denver, to the Protectorate and the PRT, you will be seen as just another local gang of villains. To us, to the visionaries, you are cogs in a greater machine, working to better each of us in turn. To that end I have offered you money, fame, and other more personal motivators. You will look out for one anothers best interests, as well as my own. I will occasionally require your assistance with a job or two, which you are welcome to accept or decline at your leisure. Rest assured that I will be paying you every cent and fulfilling every promise made."[/color]

The man gave pause long enough to take a sip from his cup of coffee. His eyes darted over to the counter where the remaining cup sat, unused, and his brow twitched just the slightest bit. [color=purple]"I have only a few rules, but they should be considered iron clad. Firstly, and Mister Headhunter I know you in particular will chafe under this declaration, you must avoid killing as much as is possible. If it becomes necessary then so be it, but I would rather the PRT, the Protectorate, and The Community not all have reason to put aside their differences and crush our operations in a unified force. Second, any capes you end up in conflict with should be captured and detained here in the Icehouse. I have a... Vested interest in parahumans. Mister or Miss Love Craft, once I have done what I need with them, I will gladly hand them over for your own research and investigations. Third, you may come to me with requests for supplies, which I shall attempt to provide to the best of my ability, and I will assign you tasks both as a team and as individuals, but when you are operating outside of this room I do not exist. Period. As far as anyone else is concerned you are an independent operation. Now as long as you agree to sign on, I have an envelope for each of you with bank and routing numbers. These are your private accounts which I will wire your individual payments to. You will find that they all already have 100,000 American dollars in advance. If any of you have any questions, now is the time to ask."[/color]