Member
Simple Unicycle
Punished GN
Metropolis, Metro Tower, Justice League Headquarters, 6:30 p.m.
"There's a situation in Midway City. I could use the Wisdom of Solomon." said the Green Lantern.
Najee paused. Already there was chaos brewing, and--as with most things in his life--not enough time to relax and enjoy the world. Though, come to think of it, the world was always in the belly of some kind of chaos from some villain who had either one or a multitude of inferiority complexes with an even greater range in severity. Of the short amount of time Najee had spent at the Tower, he didn't spend enough of it getting to know the people who he would be working with, a fault on his end for sure. He was by no means a recluse, nor did he harbor disdain for his fellow heroes, so even he was unsure as to why he hadn't bothered to interact with them much. A mission was the finest way to bond with comrades. Duress brought inhibitions and personalities out of people, it gave depth to character.
This depth is what Najee desired. At 24, he had spent his fleeting youth bouncing from odd job to odd job before he settled, unceremoniously, as a taxi cab driver. It was a life filled with lows, mostly, kin to chauferring--just without the need to call everyone 'sir' or 'ma'am', tip your hat, and open car doors when society's elite expected you to. For that, at least, Najee was grateful. Of any trait which makes someone 'great', Najee possessed one--compassion. It was compassion that made the Wizard choose him as his champion, it was (so Najee thought) compassion which made the League induct him into its ranks. Compassion never stopped one from dying; it didn't equip one with guts needed to save an entire city, either.
Inadequacy was a symptom of the human side of Najee, a part of him that assured he always knew he was nothing more than a human. Captain Marvel was an entity entirely his own. Marvel knew he was powerful, he knew he was nigh a 'god', and in him the meek Najee found confidence, purpose, order. There was one problem: his transformations were spare, for he had adjusted to life as a normal man and was comfortable enough walking among fellow mortals. But now, much was required of him and he was among others whose gifts were extraordinary. An alien, a sentient cartoon, a man with a magic ring, a magician, all incredible in the truest sense. Still, something about the awe was diminished. Yes, these beings were all fantastic--unbelievable, even--but there was a touch of weakness in them all.
One could look at the whole group and tell that none of them were ready for what was to come. It was an odd comfort, a selfish one, perhaps; for all their potential greatness, few had realized it. They were still flawed, still human. Maybe this was why Najee was afraid of giving himself over to the Wizard's gift; it would, in Najee's mind, strip him of his essence as a human being. Great mythologies of past civilizations recounted the same story--a person is endowed with miraculous ability, is corrupted by it, and soon becomes the thing he was supposed to destroy. Najee also knew, in part, that fear of the role one is given makes him equally accountable for any ill he could have stopped if he assumed his role as he should. For all these dilemmas, one thing was apparent: today he would be forced into his role, regardless of what he willed.
Najee's throat went dry, his lips lost moisture, nerve set in. Body and mind often betray one another, and Najee's legs broke from his mind's will and carried him to the teleporters. He wouldn't have a chance to transform until the citizens were clear of the mayhem. Until then, he figured he would blend in as best he could. Najee's mind was filled with doubt, and he did his best to arrest it. Duty called him, and was forcing him to answer.
Midway City, Robotman's Downtown HQ.
Once they were in the city, namely Robotman's HQ, he heard Toon Girl chime,
"So... while GL deals with the civvies so they don't hurt themselves... How are we going to find this telepath guy? Just follow the screams or what?"
"Good question. Uh... well." He hadn't done this in a while, but it was the only way he could think to help. Hopefully the Wizard hadn't turned his back on Carter.
"You might want to stand back." Najee iterated to all those present.
"SHAZAM!"
A bolt of lightning rippled from the heavens, it did not break through the roof, however--as it was no regular lightning bolt. It was the power of Shazam! Once struck, the gangly Najee was replaced by a large, muscled being clad in all black. When he spoke again, his even his voice had deepened and his words echoed with unbridled power.
"We should check outside. Even in disarray one can find answers; and whoever is doing this probably knows we are here and expects our arrival." Obvious? Maybe. Sometimes wisdom--whether it be from Solomon or not--was found in doing the obvious.
"Also, hello. My name is Najee Carter, some call me "Captain" Marvel; I am no captain. It is a pleasure to meet you all."
