Odds frowned but he was grateful for Deadshot ignoring him. Listening in on the conversation, he decided that the best way to make Waller's life a living hell was to, ironically, join her little... What did they call themselves again? Sterilize squad... Odds had never been good with remembering team names unless he made them up. But he was spent for now. He needed to replenish his energy or he would be defenseless. Hearing their destination, Odds leaped from the rooftop. Upon contact with the ground, he found he had miscalculated the height and his left knee buckled, causing him to kneel in pain. "Well shit... I need more power than I thought!" He frowned, opting to head to the Iceberg Lounge.<br/><br/>Limping away, he was just in time to see Neotoxin and Vyrus blow up a quarter of a city block. "Oho! Now that I want to study!" He smirked to himself. Hotwiring a car(Without his precious staff's help, which made it take twice as long.) Odds drove to the Iceberg Lounge and sat at the bar, coincidentally a few feet away from Diablo. Noticing the Pyromaniac he smirked. "So you part of the 'lapdog losers'?" he quipped, his eyes doing the weird "look in two different directions" thing again as he ordered a bottle of 80 proof alcohol. Downing some of it, he felt his power returning and sighed in a disturbing sound of extasy. "You seem tense... and here I was wanting to join Waller's little task force just to see if she'd finally recognize REAL talent! The newbies seem promising too... almost blew me up without knowing I was there..." He downed the rest of his booze and twirled his staff around. "The name's Odds. Nobody cares who I used to be... and before you incinerate me... Let's just say I... studied... Jeff Oblivion."