[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]"We gone see if they really 'bout it."[/center]

It was always something. Well, all of Oshea's meticulous planning was nil. He thought it a shame, too, this was a chance for him to show the rest of the team he wasn't just a snarking nuisance--even if this allocation of his character had some hidden truth. Once more, it was time to submerge, the lives of thousands in his comrades' and his hands. They would prevail, Oshea knew they would. They had no choice this time. If Oshea was being real with himself, they probably would fail again; whatever divine forces were out there, if any at all, seemed not to favor this bunch of would-be heroes. Clasping the side of his ruby red goggles, he slid themoff the crown of his head and rested them on his eyes; to him, the world dawned a deep red wherever he now looked. With a roll of his neck to loosen the building tension in his muscles, he turned to Charlie and Cassandra.

[color=FireBrick]"Like Queen Bee said, don't serve us none waitin' 'round. Y'all ready to roll?"[/color] Oshea stood up, arms jolting out to either side of him in a stretch. For a sliver in time, he had intentions of waiting on their respective replies but then his mind jumped to the next though milliseconds later; he turned to Quicksilver, 

[color=FireBrick]"Don't trip ova yaself trynna keep up wit' me this time, aight?"[/color] a wink and a grin. Oshea sped off, leaving a gust of wind in his wake.