A cursory glance around the room would have made it painfully clear that they were exactly a clown and an elephant short of a three ring circus. Well, scratch that. The pleasantly grinning oaf could probably wear a red nose handsomely, and who could ask for those peanut-loving grandstanders when there's a living, breathing raptor in the room? He took a short, calming breath. They were officially Barnum and Bailey's. 

Doing what he knew best, he kept his hands busy, summoning up a marble-sized sphere and passing it between his fingers in a seamless wavelike motion. He really thought the past year couldn't get much worse. Little did he know, he'd be spending time in a room with a giant rat and a bunch of super-powered [i]kids[/i]. Some of them looked like kids to him, especially the stammering little waif who'd spoken first. That made his brow furrow, because nobody in the goddamn universe fussed about kids unless they were old and bitter. He definitely could check off the bitter box, but old? Cody shrugged and paid attention to what vitriol one of his new teammates was spewing.

He knew she was right, but the blonde still felt like he had to smooth it over. It just didn't sit with him that someone could make that their first impression when so much was on the line.

"Look, sweetheart," Cody allowed himself one pointed barb before continuing, "None of us came in here today with the expectation of saving the world single handed." [i]The raptor might've, but that would be single-clawed.[/i] He omitted the joke and moved on, "I don't think I'm too far off when I say a fair few of us have [i]already[/i] been knocked on our asses. We're here now, though, and we want to make something of ourselves, even if it means we get beat up sometimes." He offered a kind smile to the girl whose concern sparked all of this. 

Cody wasn't much of a motivational speaker, and that was really too much front-and-center time for his delicate constitution, so he leaned back against the wall he'd stuck close to, captured the marble of energy in his hand, and crossed his arms over his chest. With a wry smirk, he considered the fact that they at least had the numbers to overwhelm a group of crooks. Plus, he was sure each and every one of these folks had their own set of abilities, and a good deal of them were probably more impressive than the power to shoot tiny spheres around like in some arcade game.

He busied himself trying to guess his cohorts' talents. Raptor girl and rabbit-in-a-hat were both confirmed. He assumed the rat's powers were just... being a rat. Which was cool. The scowling one probably had some sort of toxins in her skin or something, like one of those rainforest frogs. The one he'd smiled at, with her question about success, either came from a background of insurance agents or she had a non-combat power. Mr. Rock'em Sock'em arms had the ability to give himself a bloody nose, plus he got to have metal arms. He snickered. 

He pretended not to notice Mr. Happystein falling out of his chair, as not to embarrass him. However, that reminded him of the metaphorical second shoe that had yet to drop. Everyone was asking about the mission: how many mooks would they beat up, where were they going, what would happen in case things went wrong. All he wanted to know was one thing, but he'd seen movies, and he knew Merlovich would never fess up directly.

"You're a really big name around here. You're filthy rich, and don't think this means I don't appreciate you giving us a chance, but couldn't you afford better?" He gave an apologetic shrug to his comrades, "I'm sure we'll be a great team someday, but most of us haven't used our powers for anything even remotely dangerous before. Guys like you take risks on the stockmarket, not on crusades like this one."