[h2]Alessa Heather: PRT Headquarters[/h2]
'Yes, I did. Please follow me.' She was being unusually formal with Dean, she was well aware, but she'd need formality for a decision like this. And, well... it helped her to keep her composure. She turned and began to walk, moving for about a minute before dipping into the nearest empty conference room, her fellow Ward in tow. Once in, she closed the door behind them, then took a seat at the table and motioned for Dean to sit by her.

'So, Dean,' she began calmly, reminding herself to be objective about her fellow team members for this explanation, 'I've brought you in here to discuss a few things in private, before any official announcements are made. Long story short, yes, I'm considering you for the role of second-in-command within the Wards. Of my other options,' she continued, counting each one off on her fingers, 'Evelyn's ability seems very strong, but she's untested, she lacks field experience as it were; Elliot's power is also useful, but not enough to counteract a general tendency towards brashness that would hinder tactical thinking; and Ira, whilst great for preparation, is not helpful in an immediate situation beyond any devices she's created for herself and the team. I'm not going to pretend you're a perfect fit either, Dean- amongst other things, you're a bit reckless with how you approach situations at times, and we'll need to sort that out at some point- but your power is generally helpful in a combat situation, and you are behind me the most experienced of the group by far. That is, of course, extremely valuable, it means we can discuss strategies with similar levels of expertise from different angles, bounce ideas off one another... assuming we don't discuss them as a full team, of course.

'Realistically, all I need from you is an agreement to take the position, and the decision is as good as made,' she concluded with a small smile. 'And of course, if there's anything else you want to say about yourself or any of the other Wards as far as suitability goes, good [i]or[/i] bad, now's the time.' She'd of course stop him if he started going on unnecessary rants about how he'd always secretly hated one or more of thir fellow team members, but any additional information she could get was vital for gauging how to arrange the team's activities.

[hr]
[h2]Raymond Haywood: Highway Robbery[/h2]
'I noticed,' Headhunter stated quietly. Frankly, none of the positions were brilliant, in his mind. Far, far too close to the target for him to be comfortable with, and getting up close and personal was exactly why Chatterbox now had his hands on his FN P90 and some of its ammunition, with the promise that it wouldn't be broken or otherwise lost. He reminded himself that other snipers would need relatively little range to remain accurate... and, on the off-chance that his aim would somehow be misdirected, it'd be immensely helpful for him to shoot from that short a distance, given that he was much more likely to hit a vehicle moving at seventy miles an hour from a hundred meters away than from a thousand.

Either way, Love Craft wasn't wrong, per se. The nearest hill would be a good vantage point, and it'd make a harsh climb up for anybody attempting to reach him... and at the same time prove useless against a flying foe. Still better than nothing, and he did have a good weapon to deal with something like that, but even so. He'd need to be quick on the trigger if he noticed a flying Cape; they'd almost certainly be fast enough or have enough range to take him out within seconds if they realised he was there... though ideally, he'd take them out first, and long before they figured out where he was.

Speaking of Capes, Love Craft was flirting with him again. And asking questions about placement, as well. There were plenty of placement options, clearly. Were any of them any good? Possibly not, at least as far as cover went. Maybe one of the hills on the Western side of the road? There might be trees they could hide behind... he wasn't sure at a glance. He'd need to scout the area more effectively, and he didn't really have time for that if he wanted to set up properly.

'I'll let you sort yourself out,' he stated vaguely. 'If anybody needs me, I'll be on that hill.' He promptly began striding toward his chosen sniping spot, already laying out in his mind the sort of position he'd need, the elevation and wind speed and countless other variables, as if on autopilot.