[center][color=FireBrick][h1]Oshea Jackson[/h1][/color][/center]
[center][img]http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/marveldatabase/images/6/62/Everett_Thomas_%28Earth-616%29_004.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/166?cb=20070412113055[/img][/center]
[center]"He wears a mask just to cover the raw flesh."[/center]
[center]MF DOOM[/center]
[hr]

Methodic, Oshea began tapping his foot against the floor of the van. The group would arrive soon, and then the world would once more depend on this group of teenagers and young adults to save it. from peril. Oshea could not settle his mind, and he needed a towel for the sweat slipping down his face. To praise oneself in jest was fun, and Oshea would big himself up in front of anyone if it helped veil the angst he felt before tasks undertaken--but it offered him no true cloth of courage. In himself, there was mighty cowardice; and it only reared itself when it came time for him to be a hero and cease mere portrayal of one. Silence crept and seized him.

There was more at stake here, grand and personal. Danger once more befell the extraneous human populous, but Oshea could only do so much for them. Here in this van there were individual lives which he [i]could[/i] have deeper impact upon, some who he had come to care about tremendously; others who he was sure he would come to care about. Gone was the worry about surviving the mission; present was the sureness of lives retained. Childish he was, and in this child like fixation the vice of cowardice and the virtue of selflessness remained--somehow, Oshea knew he had to find a way to spur the giving of himself contra the coward within.

There was, of course, always the problem of doing.