For the most part, the sirens hadn't lit a fire under Cody's ass. In fact, he was damn frustrated by them, and begrudgingly threw on his bomber jacket over his new uniform. Though he was moving slower than molasses he was confident that the emergency would still be there when he arrived. He took a few moments to appreciate the shine on his new boots, which would surely soon be dragged through mud, or alien entrails, or nuclear snow, or something worse. Taking a deep and calming breath seemed to help as he finally entered the cavernous hangar. He looked around. As far as he could tell, he wasn't the only person missing, meaning a few other stragglers would surely show up after him. Cody almost chalked the raptor girl up as late, but realized that she had simply assumed her human form. That led him to an interesting riddle. Which was the true form and which the mutation? It was a classic case of whether the cretaceous chicken came before the fleshy egg-carrier.

He realized Merlovich was talking, but paid him no mind until he began to assign teams. Carefree as he was, he didn't want to be the lost fieldtrip kid who goes with the wrong group, ends up in the women's room, and is pummeled by made-up ladies in pumps. No, he'd never go through [i]that[/i] again. So, he waited. The bulky ones were grouped together, sent out on a vague mission for someone called The Mechanic. "Unknown duress" could be anything from a hostage crisis to the phones lines going down and he was glad he was sent on a task with clear direction. Robbers and civilians. Stop one, save the others. He knew he'd be an invaluable asset to the team if only for his forcefields. If a sticky situation arose, he could easily stand between some of the sitting ducks and a few bullets.

That gave him pause. He didn't know much about the others on his team, seeing as they didn't so much wear their powers on their sleeves. He already had a strong dislike of Variant and her shit attitude. A stuck-up cynical little princess she may be, but he hoped her attitude could be backed up by a useful powerset. Hearing the name Calculus, he knew his was right about his assumption regarding the girl he'd encouraged earlier. She was skilled in maths, apparently, meaning her forte would be more theoretical, such as knowing the right angle to shoot one of his balls if he wanted to ricochet and hit something out of a criminal's hand. [i]She came with the right team, then. Strategy and delicate calculations don't seem like the Bruise Crew's thing.[/i] He'd already figured out Mirage before Merlovich gave her a name. Magician's assistant til the day she'd die, that one. Junkyard... he admitted to having completely overlooked him the first time around. He hoped he could control metal and that he wasn't just one of those guys who makes cannons out of cathode ray tubes. Last but not least was the string-bean sob-queen. Angstbomb's cape name was so painfully on the nose that Cody prayed his power wasn't making others feel his existential dread and exaggerated ennui.

He was panicking now, ever so slightly. They had no battering ram. It was a bunch of tactically minded ranged folks or so it seemed. They'd need surgical precision to end the conflict from afar.

Clapping Angstbomb on the shoulder, he decided to be the positive one, "This'll be fun, huh? Nothing quite brings people together like protecting civilians and cuffing lowlifes." His grin was pretty fake. He didn't know why he bothered. All his life he'd been pleasant, but never really the ray of sunshine he was pretending to be, not since, well... the blonde turned to Calculus next, "Were you nervous earlier today because you hadn't gotten in a lot of superheroic practice with your skills? Don't worry about that. If you just tell me where to aim, we'll clear the place out." To demonstrate, he formed a small ball and shot it like a marble at the floor, watching with pleasure as it rebounded and leaped back into his hand.  

Then, an actual question occurred to him. "Merlovich," he started, "We're going two different places, right? Are we both taking the White Wing? What's that seating arrangement gonna look like?" He envisioned carpooling, grade-school style. Carpooling plus a drunk alien, a Frankenstein's monster, a raptor, a rat with clothes, a mopey elf, a math genius, a clumsy Mattel toy, a vaudevillian magician, a dour nihilist, a scrappy mechanic-type, and, well, himself? He felt carsick.