[center][b]James Buchanan Barnes
Bucky
Boy's Got Guts[/b][/center]

Out of all of the people in the general vicinity, the kid had to accost him. Was it not obvious that Bucky wasn't the sociable type, or did his intimidating, aloof stance come off as amiable? Regardless, despite the obvious glare he threw the kid's way, he was persistent. Of course, Bucky didn't give him the benefit of shaking his hand and simply turned to better address him. His gaze never faltered as he looked down at the person who introduced himself, a Red Arrow.

Well, he was going to work with him for quite a while, it seemed, so insulting him may be unwarranted, as would brushing him off. A coworker with a vendetta was just as bad, if not more so, than a vindictive villain, though Bucky couldn't attest to that... just yet. He was edging awfully close, though, and his new 'coworkers' per se, may not appreciate his aloof, cold demeanor. But, Bucky wasn't above warming up to a few people, it just took time, especially after what had recently happened to him. And Steve did his best to accommodate his needs, as well as his space—he knew him best, after alll; and thus, knew how best to handle him.

So, Bucky, despite not taking the offered hand gave Red Arrow a quick nod.

"James Buchanan Barnes," he finally responded, "Or Bucky. Whatever suits you best."

With that, he gave a sigh and turned around to, once again, find the Captain.

---

[center][b]William "Billy" Kaplan
Wiccan
Best Day Ever[/b][/center]

"Oh, I'm technically a mutant," he responded with a grin, "Can't really hide from that, superhero or not. People treat me differently than you all, so a secret identity isn't a commodity I can quite have. A name like Wiccan just serves as a title attesting to my specialty!"

Billy did his best to restrain himself when she previously explained what all her gadgets did, but he was still having a hard time not going totally crazy in the midst of legends. The day, so far, was going gloriously and he had his powers to thank for it. Oh, if not for his damn genes, he'd probably be back home probably doing the same thing he was now, just up close and personal with the TV, and not the actual things. What more, he was going to get to work with people just as acclaimed—well, maybe a tad less. Batgirl's raging fans seemed to disprove that the kids behind the masks weren't as good as their adult counterparts.

Youth sells.

Of course, Billy didn't quite think so highly of himself. From where he was standing, Billy was not better than the girls that cried for autographs and pictures in comparison to the beings standing before him. There was something inside him, he knew, that could be great, but Billy saw it more as a hazard to be tamed and pushed back, rather than a gift to be shared and used. Sure, teenagers, especially those instilled with powers of various kinds, had all the reason to doubt themselves, as they were still inexperienced, but most tended to grow out of that, in order to flourish in the real world. Billy was just on the extreme side of that spectrum.

However, more people were corralling in the area, particularly future colleagues and heroes and all that weight that had hit him prior to coming here, had once again settled with a great strength in the pit of his stomach and the back of his throat. Billy gave a deep breath, smiled at Batgirl, and waved himself away.

"Guess they're about to call us up, or something," he mumbled, now attempting to survey a spot behind everyone where he'd cause the least trouble, even if he wasn't the troublemaking type—precaustions, simply.