Afro Samurai

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

Dope. Also, could someone re-iterate the teams?

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

The Primordial Light

Character you have created: The Zero Light, The Primordial Light
Alias: Zero
Speech Color:
Character Alignment: Hero
Identity:Hidden
Character Personality: Benevolent and caring. The Zero Light will do all it can to help those in distress. It has no patience for evil and will seek to eradicate it at any and every cost. Its zealous nature posits it as a threat to many.

Uniform/costume: Whatever its shapeshifted body is wearing (or sometimes not wearing).

Pure Appearance

Origin Info/Details: In the Christian tale of creation, the Lord said “let there be light” and saw it was good. This primordial light sufficed for eons until the Fall of Man. After which, it was rescinded by God from the world and tasked to wander the cosmos until the fulfillment of the Crucifixion. Proceeding the Great Flood told in Noah, the first primordial light returned to Earth to once again light the new world only to find it had been replaced!

Distraught, Zero lamented to its Creator for it was unable to understand why it had been cast aside as such. The primordial light was to find that it had not at all been cast aside, but repurposed for something else: following the death of Christ and the penance for man’s sin, the primordial light was to intervene in the world’s affairs, conducting miracles, healing, and keeping peace within the world. Then something unexpected happened: the Pax Metahumana. The rise of metahumans not only constituted a change in the way the Divine was perceived--as many people began to believe themselves Gods incarnate--but it also caused the dissociation of its creator from the primordial light itself, for these petulant humans had ‘raised’ themselves so as to deny the gods and thus were left to their own devices.

Now, the Zero light wanders among the galaxy alone, hoping that it may carry out its original mission: bringing peace to humankind.

Hero Type: Supernatural/Speedster/Shapeshifter
Power Level: Cosmic
Powers: Unending: The primordial light does not end. It is a vast energy source which spans throughout all time. It is truly immortal.

Cosmic Energy Manipulation: When it has formed a physical body, it has the ability to manipulate most forms of energy, natural and magical. It cannot usurp entities whose power over a specific energy is absolute (it could not outclass the Psionic Nexus’ ability to manipulate psi energy, but it can manipulate psionic energy as well). The color of the cosmic energies varies depending on what type of energy the Zero light chooses to manipulate.

Cosmic Energy Absorption: As an entity of pure energy, the Zero light can assimilate other energies into itself with no harm done to it. When Zero shapeshifts on its own after not having found a suitor for some time, there is no true limit to the amount of energy it can absorb. When inhabiting a body, however, the body it inhabits must realize the full capacity of this ability.

Hyperlight travel: As it is light itself, Zero can travel at lightspeed and beyond instantly across galaxies or dimensions.

Superhuman Speed: In a regular body, Zero limits itself to blink travel--that is, he moves at speeds equal to that of a normal speedster.

Shapeshifting: Breathed from the mouth of his pantheon’s Lord, the primordial light can mimic its maker’s creations down to the cellular makeup. The Zero light can manifest its own body if it so wills. It can also mimic the more unique features of a person: voice, gait, small portions of their personality.

Healing: Zero’s light is also repairative, it can mend injuries of others near instantly regardless of severity. When dwelling in a corporeal body, the body can heal itself at a rate which mitigates injury almost as soon as it happens.

Holy Voice: When encountering a dark or demonic being, the Zero light can utilize its holy voice to cleanse or purify the dark energy itself.

Temperature Immunity: Even when utilizing a corporeal body, the Zero light itself is mere energy and as such there is no temperature which effects it regardless of energy type.

Flight: Disembodied, the Zero light travels via flight. With an assumed body, it mainly uses running as its mode of speed travel, but it will use flight when necessary.

Revitalization: It can return to full vitas an organic or inorganic being which is barely alive. It cannot resurrect beings already passed, for this goes against the will of its maker.

Holy Territory: The primordial light can designate a portion of land as a holy territory, preventing dark entities of any type from entering it while it is active. Any who try to enter are typically turned away by the white hot purifying light and any whom the primordial light does not deem worthy who attempts to force their way into the Holy Territory will be disintegrated slowly.

Absolute Light: As the Zero light is the light of creation, it can overcome all natural and magical darkness except for its equal--the primordial Darkness.

Light Generation and Control: Zero can summon light. It can be used for inexhaustible matters: constructs, weapons, invisibility, etc.

Disintegration: A white flame of purity erupts from an object or inorganic life and reduces it to ash near instantly. It is used for quickly disarming foes.

Self Sustenance: Any inhabited body the Zero Light has sustains itself independently of sleep, water, food, oxygen, etc. It is also not effected by vacuums or magic entrapment. It cannot be dispersed by another being.

A Body of Celestial Light: Any body the Zero Light inhabits lacks organs, blood, muscles, etc. As such, the corporeal body risks no breaking, tearing, or physical degradation.

Quantum Vision: Opening the inhabitant's eyes to the light of creation, the inner workings and secrets of the a single planet are revealed at any time. It allows the wielder of the Primordial light to see all energies and their respective sources, including the ley lines of a planet if there is magic present on it. It also allows the user to see in every direction around themselves.

Attributes (Select one at each category):

Height: Varies
Weight: Weightless in its pure form; shapeshifted bodies are also extremely light.
Strength Level: 100+ (constructs)
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: 20x (shapeshifted); light/beyond light (pure form)
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Incalculable.
Agility: 20x
Intelligence: Intelligent.
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Resources:

Not needed.

Weaknesses: The Zero Light's greatest weakness is its passivity. Never will it pick a fight with another unless it is forced. It comes to the aid of the afflicted wherever and whenever it can. Its greatest weakness outside of this is the Primordial Darkness.

Supporting Characters: Rochelle Williams (a firefighter, aged 30): One of the first people the Zero light will be watching in hopes of finding a suitable person to inhabit. (her CS will be made soon.)

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:

Hider

Sample Post: Refer to other posts.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

nice

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

Oshea Jackson

"We gone see if they really 'bout it."

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.

"Like Queen Bee said, don't serve us none waitin' 'round. Y'all ready to roll?" 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,

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

Heroes Reborn - A DCAU Roleplay (Always open!)

Wounded

Marvin sat in the soft computer chair when he heard the thud of something against the walls of his warehouse; part of him wanted to activate the warehouse’s defenses--but something else told him that would be excessive. Maybe it was just those kids again; some of those knuckleheads never learn! Marvin wanted to go check, but he couldn’t expose himself to the denizens of Marcy, even if everyone knew who the Man in the Warehouse was now. He could use his present predicament to his advantage somehow, but Marvin was unsure how as of yet. He wasn’t in fighting shape, and though his body was repairing itself at an astronomical rate, the aches and the frequent jolts of unanimous pain throughout his entire being made each step agony.

All Marvin knew now is that yet another person or being had found where he lay his head, but at this point it didn’t matter. It was time to plot. If his enemies wanted to flank him, he would let them think they had the advantage… except, he couldn’t plan for something he couldn’t see. The phone continued ringing and Marvin picked up,

“Marvin Hayes? Forensics officer Felix Martinez. NYPD. We have something you need to see. Translator at the lab said it was German.” some seconds later, a blue loading screen fizzled onto the massive monitor in front of him. When the loading was complete, it read, Kinderfressen! With one click of his mouse, the video feed was freeze framed, cropped, and saved to the cloud storage of his personal network system. Marvin’s eyelids tipped closed and lifted open in rapid succession, he tried to muster a reply to the forensics officer but it was less than true English and more gibberish.

A gunshot. Marvin’s eyes flushed open. It never ended! He had given his all, but the shootings, the muggings, the greed, the murder, the selfishness, it never ended. Beleaguered, Marvin dragged his hapless unmasked head toward the lower third floor window and stared out at the sound as its hollow rang dissipated into the mouth of the night’s howling winds. Even if he was healthy, he was too tired. Tonight, he would sleep--someone else could handle it tonight. Little did Marvin know, someone else was handling it.

October 30th, 11:00 p.m.

Marvin had just awaken. The 70’’ television displayed the news,

”Jennifer Greene with Channel 52 News. Yet another child has gone missing from Brooklyn’s Marcy Housing Projects. Last night, 15 year old Teon Hollins disappeared from his home. Residents say they heard nothing suspicious in the lowrises last night. We spoke with the victim’s mother this morning. Here is what she had to say,”

Pan. A hefty black woman wearing a long flower print gown, pink rollers, and black house slippers to match stood in front of a rounded microphone and she was surrounded by family members and other dishevelled looking residents of the neighborhood. On her cocoa skin there is worry slit into the lines of a weary face. Dried tears decorate the sides of her smooth cheeks. An older man’s hand rests on her shoulder, consoling her as she fights through another wave of tears--he grips tighter the more frustrated she becomes as if to relax her.

“I-I just don’t know! I don’t know, I do--who done took my baby from me? Why they took him from me?! MONSTER!” she had nearly begun to cry again, her consoler--another black man who appeared no more than 40, sporting a bushy mustache, bald head, a white tanktop and some pajamas--tightened his grip and she composed herself

“All our babies is missin’ and nobody care! Who next? Huh? Who next! Ain’t nobody gonna nothin’? Why we gotta suffer? Y’know--it jus’--” her thoughts appeared to escape her, someone in the background filled the lull,

“I know tha’s right!” an Afro puff laced black woman erected from the back,
“Don’t make no damn sense I tell’ya’at.” a grandfatherly gentlemen added. The camera was still focused on the woman of the hour, Teon’s mother and she spoke again after she had once more gathered herself,

“And, you know--where that ‘Tiger’ at, huh? He supposed to be some type’a ‘hero’ or somethin’, but far as I seen he ain’ done nothin’!”

“Yeah!” someone else added from the back,
“Ain’t none of em no good.” went another,

The camera swayed up to the reporter on scene, Jenny Wong, who re-directed the segment back to Jennifer at the station.

BREAKING NEWS

Marvin cut the TV off. He had done something, something rather idiotic in truth. He had sent every kid he could round up within a mile of the projects to Gotham City. Outlandish? Yes. Foolhardy? Yes. And evidently his plan was not as foolproof as he thought, kids were still disappearing. Marvin played his hand too early, and from the looks of the deal, he had lost. At least now he had a lead; “Kinderfressen.” German. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had--and like with everything else, Marvin would unveil its shroud.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

six posts in CAH ooc in a day, the bonanza posting prologue begins

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

Oshea Jackson

"Much to learn, you still have! That was Yoda or somethin', right? That's a bad little green dude."

A grin. Oshea rarely smiled, though he was always welcoming and did his best to be approachable. He was joyed that Charlie wasn't turned away by his plaintive speech. Though this was only Oshea's second mission as an X man, he knew well the steeled nerve one needed to function in the field. It was a skill he had learned long before he'd ever thought of coming to the X Mansion: resilience. Poverty was the finest craftsmen, its hands heavy, its tools unfair and keen. A hungry stomach, the constant wonder of when that stomach would be filled again--these hardened the mind and body to expect nothing and to learn to receive what he could get for himself.

Here, that would include forcibly ensuring the safety of his teammates, regardless of how well his body was holding up at present.

Oshea's grin faded, he turned to Charlie with a glare more sly, "You'd have to catch me first, young blood."

Marvel AU - The New Avengers

Still accepting?

Heroes Reborn - A DCAU Roleplay (Always open!)

Contingencies

8:30 a.m.
All Across the City of Brooklyn
October 30th, 2020

---

A citrus sun rose above the city’s skyline. On this day in particular, there were an odd number of public transit vehicles parading the already dense streets of New York. Buses, trains, taxicabs, all of which had apparently divulged from their normal routes on this special occasion. Today, the kids of Brooklyn would be taking a city wide field trip, sponsored by an anonymous backer.

Brooklyn Arts and Sciences Elementary School

“And that is how you do PEMDAS!” Miss Huckle chimed to her brimming class of third graders as some valiantly scribed the chalked math equation which sprawled the spacious green board at the front of the classroom while others threw paperballs at one another and passed notes demeaning their fellow classmates in secret. A man clad in long trench and matching slack swung open the door, creme fedora brim pushed back slightly to reveal his thinning hairline. It was detective David Ramsey, FBI. He’d come with a special message for Miss Huckle and her band of third graders,

“Miss Tabitha Huckle! David Ramsey,” he whipped the badge, federal bureau insignia etched on its face , “FBI, please escort yourself and your students to the playground.”

“B--” expectant of defiance, Ramsey sliced her speech before she could knit it,
“This is for the safety of you and your students, Miss Huckle, please do as I ask.” ever stern was 6’1 Ramsey.
“But, but you can’t take them now! I’m trying to teach! What is going on?!” Tabitha shot back, not one to be silenced swift,

David only glared. A cold quiet cleansed the room, stained only by the rising giddy of twenty four 3rd grade children deciphering the situation before them. Too lofty for their capacity of sense, half the class looked on with excitement--if it meant they got to leave class early instead of partake in another dreadful math problem, they would. The other half spurred disappointment; a correct answer on a math problem in Miss Huckle’s class meant candy for everyone! Stupid crises, they always ruined a good thing.

Scenes such as these played similar across the city as the afternoon waned. Principals sat dilapidated in their offices as disgruntled single mothers, fathers, and purveyors of classic nuclear families flooded the meager protection the principal’s office doors provided from such an encroaching threat. No matter how many times public and private school principals and deans hoped to assuage the ire of the parent body, there was no rest. Schools graced with less funding than the more prestigious Brooklyn Arts and Sciences Elementary who still used LAN line phones could not escape the seemingly endless ringing of the phone’s hook as it sat on their desks.

Around the city, kids of all age brackets were summarily stripped from classrooms and hauled onto the public transit system. And visiting every classroom, knocking on every door, pulling out every strand of greying hair he had left, was Mr. Ramsey, FBI detective extraordinaire. He was not extraordinary today, though; no, today he was just annoyed. Annoyed at that goddamned Tiger.

---

October 30th, 2:02 PM
Kasimir Castle, Gotham City

It had been a surprisingly good few days for Zoey Kasimir, especially considering her hate for early November months. Aside from unpleasant memories at this time of year, the entire city turned into a shit show of teenagers trying to be edgy and too tough for their britches simultaneously. That wasn’t including the occasional lunatic off their meds who thought actual zombies were rising up - which, to be fair, you know this time he was actually right.

Plus, that certain chill that filled the air was creeping in. Zoey hated the cold.

However, none of that was on the billionaire’s mind currently. At the moment she was on the phone with Nicole, her personal assistant, checking and double checking that her little plan had gone off without a hitch. Well, as much as covering every grave in Gotham in concrete could. Charity work sure had changed since she was a kid.

“Alright, so only the Rosier Cemetery is left… and it should be done by five, correct? Excellent. Has there been any reports of any undead rising?” She wasn’t expecting any, considering Jaina had sent her a quick text informing her of how quiet the last two nights had been. The first day, the 28th, had been laying down a mess of concrete over every grave - function over form. The past two days were cleaning everything up to be respectful to the dead, pouring more concrete and shaping it to create tasteful slabs.

”Great, so make sure that I’m informed if - what was that?” A sudden honk, faint but still surprisingly close considering she was in the Castle, was Zoey’s first alert that something was wrong. The second was one of the servants hurrying to her, whispering to her that a bus was outside.

What?

And the third, and final part, was her intercom coming to life. Zoey flicked her phone to the custom app to accept the intercom call after informing Nicole she’d call her back, staring at the video feed of a well dressed man.

“FBI.”

David better not have done something stupid at school today.

---

Gotham’s cold was no better than Brooklyn’s at this time of year; Ramsey’s stylish trenchcoat no match for nearing winter winds. He buried wrinkling hands into his coat pockets before speaking into the intercom,

“This is the ___ residence, yes?” Marvin had given Ramsey strict orders not to use Zoey’s real name, for her own protection and for his.

Ramsey continued, “I have--” the rustling of paper, what sounded like a small and single notecard fold blossoming into one large sheet, “I have a ‘gift’ for you from a ‘distant friend’ in five. . .” the sound of more wheels stopping, “or more parts. Yes, one-two-th… yes, yes. I was told this is where I should drop off this ‘donation’.” David began to wonder whether or not this was a drug deal merely disguised as hero work. Marvin was not the finest coder of language, written or verbal. Given recent events, Marvin wanted to keep everything secret, even the way he spoke to others--in this case, one Zoey Kasimir, the only person Marvin believed he could trust.

A screech, the doors to the several buses opened; some children dressed in coats, some not--all of whom stood in Gotham’s blistering cold, huddled together. At the head of the amassing pack of presschoolers and middle schoolers was their patron saint, Ramsey. He hoped there was some ounce of grace in this ‘dog’ person Marvin told him about; why exactly Marvin referred to her as a dog Ramsey was unaware, nor did he care. All he wanted was for these kids to find safety and warmth; he hoped he could find some for himself as well.

Behind him, Ramsey heard the chattering of teeth, the cries of kindergarteners and ushered some of the chaperones to escort the smallest children and those without jackets onto the bus.

For a long moment Zoey could only stare at the video feed being streamed onto her smartphone, at the well-dressed man, the bus behind him with a multitude of children, at the utter catastrophe unfolding in front of her gate. Finally, with a lifetime of grace and well-bred manners, the billionaire responded in the most appropriate way.

”What the fuck?” There was so, so much wrong with this scenario. For a moment Zoey was even tempted to turn them away, but … trap or not, she couldn’t just leave the children in this person’s care without knowing his intention. For all she knew the whole bus was loaded with bombs and this was Anarkee’s next big ploy. Something about the ‘FBI Agent’, or more specifically the message he was delivering, bothered her. The thought of it just pecked at the back of her brain, urging her to read into the situation more closely.

Finally the billionaire huffed, irritation coursing through her veins. A quick flick of a button in the bottom right corner of her phone had the gates unlocking, before swinging open with a flourish to provide access to her Castle’s magnificent lawn. It was a stupid idea just letting him in, but to be honest Zoey would never allow him to be turned away with a bus load of children either.

”Approach, we’ll talk at the front.” With that Zoey cut off the intercom and rose, pacing quickly to the front. A quick text to Nicole to take care of the graves was sent off, followed by one to her chef letting him know to prepare… a very large amount of snacks.

This better not be more magic bullshit.

Ramsey waited for the gates leading to the mansion’s front doors to open. Once they did, he lead the procession of confused, tired, restless children to the entrance of their resting place. He waited for Zoey to approach before he spoke,

“Mrs. Dog, one of our… mutual” he spat the word with disgust, “friends is having a bit of a problem. Under no other circumstances would something like this occur, I assure you. Inside, if you will? The little ones are beginning to annoy me.” Ramsey was not a man with tremendous patience for one with his line of work, but for the sake of the children, today he would ring the last bit of patience from himself to assure the safety of those in his charge. The children stood a long shadow cast from Ramsey’s back, eyes wide gazing up and across the wide architecture of the castle’s front.

“In, in, shall we? The little ones are cold.” As was Ramsey himself, but now he could only wait.

Dog.

Zoey’s eyebrow twitched, her teeth gritting together as all at once she was filled with a wave of irritation. She knew exactly who sent this gaggle of children now. While the part of her that was coiled and waiting for a trap relaxed, her shoulders had tensed now knowing the sender of her ‘gift’, as the FBI Agent had put it. One of the most brilliant men she knew, and the one who had the ability to step all over her nerves so easily.

He still hadn’t apologized for the window!

“Inside, then,” With a short nod of her head Zoey turned on her heel to retreat back up the short set of steps and passed the double doors. As soon as she was inside Dan was looking to her curiously, and her nod to him was much stiffer. ”Guests. Henry is making snacks for them - get them set up … somewhere. Wherever you need to make them comfortable. Call in the other staff if you need more hands.” The billionaire took a few paces before stopping, glancing over her shoulder.

”When David comes home from school let him know I don’t know yet, either.” The last part was stated in a very flat tone before Zoey moved ahead, gesturing the Agent to follow her. She honestly couldn’t remember his name, despite having gotten it less than ten minutes ago. She never had a head for names.

Having the feeling this wasn’t for prying ears of small children Zoey led the Agent to a small office on the bottom floor, obviously one not regularly used considering how spartan it was, but clean and secure. Shutting the door behind him Zoey none the less took a moment to sweep over the room, paranoid as she was, before turning back to him expectantly.

Ramsey’s steps were hurried, though there was yet no apparent danger. Once inside the small office, Ramsey did away with his long trenchcoat, hanging it atop the headrest of a nearby chair. Now donning a tan dress shirt and brown suspenders, Ramsey resembled a classic 40s noir detective. Never one to disrespect etiquette, Ramsey removed his hat and let it rest upon the table positioned in front of the chair where his coat hung. An admirant of scenery, Ramsey surveyed the room; his eyes reflecting interest and fatigue. He had been in so many board rooms, offices, and meetings in the last four days and they were all beginning to look the same.

If Ramsey stood idle in one spot for too long, he may have toppled over. Sleep escaped him, nights joined together as a chain; the worry for the safety of the children outside these gothic doors of this castle intensified the gradual incline of dismay he was beginning to feel for his own son. To keep busy before he spoke, Ramsey latched his shirt’s wrist cuffs undone and peeled them to his elbow and then began,

“Kids are disappearing. Three abductions this week. Ten this month. We still don’t know who or what the hell is behind any of this. Our friend has asked me to reach out to you and inform you to keep these kids safe while he--we, while we investigate the matter.” Ramsey, for the sake of remaining awake, began to pace about.

“Coffee? You got any?” he finished.

For a moment, Zoey could only stare at the Agent opposite her. Brows furrowed, the corners of her lips downturned, eyes narrowed. He was being serious. He was being serious.

“So the solution to kids disappearing was to pack up a couple dozen - no, there had to have been at least a few hundred kids there, and send them to me?!” The billionaire raised her hands, rubbing at her face. Now was not a good time for these… these shenanigans! The Agent’s words had the redhead glancing up, examining the man before her with a cold gaze. He seemed exhausted, a man running on his last legs. Ten children disappearing in a month - it was no wonder, even if she thought this was ridiculous.

“... Yeah, sure.” Retrieving her phone once more Zoey’s slender fingers tapped out a quick text message to her chef, followed by swapping to disable the more dangerous defenses set up deep in her home. Children had the tendency to get into things they weren’t supposed to. With that done she deposited the phone in her pocket once more, her painted nails soon playing at the cuff of her white button up.

“I can house the children, if you both consider this the safest method.” Zoey finally admitted. Her jaw rolled as she considered her words. “My home is fortified and monitored. I can have the staff assist. What of their parents?” A knock at the door, typical of her swift order, had Zoey turning. Her muscles coiled as she put her back to the Agent, but she none the less unlocked the door and took the offered tray with a short nod.

The door closed once more the billionaire set the tray of coffee, two cups, cream and sugar on the desk and gestured him to it, before once more resuming her position of standing back to a corner of the room.

“Blue mountain, strong. You look like you need it. I don’t suppose this can count as a tax write off, huh?” The last part was stated dryly, as Zoey relented to the absolutely insane idea. At least it wasn’t as bad as breaking her windows.

It didn’t take him any time to engulf the entirety of the Blue mountain coffee. Dead eyes strum awake; the change in chemical balance was so rapid that his hairs would have stood up on his body from excitement if they could. But he was a hairless man. Awakened, the dull drag of his tone changed to one more involved--a glimpse of what he was when well rested,

“I might be able to work something out!” a smile,
“Back on topic, Davey, back on topic, back on topic! Uh,” he rustled a hand through his brown hair,
“Yeah, right! Our mutual friend doesn’t know how long these kids are going to have to remain here. Their parents will be here shortly. Whatever this threat is, it has no interest in the parents. We aren’t sure how aggressive this kidnapper is, so they may come here once they figure out the ruse. I advise you to be ready, but something tells me I don’t need to advise you of that at all.” David finished.

David finally took a seat.

“If there is anything you need, our mutual friend advises you to let him know. He says he is willing to repay you in equal parts for this favor.”

”I’ll be ready,” Was the immediate, dangerous response. Zoey lifted her head, crimson bangs falling into her face as she gazed back at the Agent. ”Of that you and our … friend, can be assured. I will protect them as though they were my own two sons. Nothing will be a threat to these children while they’re within these walls.”

A crash came from beyond the walls, followed by a child’s yelling protests.

”... Except each other.”

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

Oshea Jackson

"You ain't got nothin' to worry about--until you do."

---

Oshea's daydream snapped, he was drawn to reality by the question of one of the rookies. He had to make a point to ask the rookie's name, he had already forgotten it--soon as the thought crossed his mind, the faster it slipped by. Still, he responded to Charlie's inquiry, "Nah, never was able to hurt nobody. Not yet, anyway, right? I'ono though, I ain't really one to bring action to nobody 'less they bring it to me, yew kno'? I wouldn' even worry about it, dog; you gon' be in this savin' the world business, you gon' have to run it a couple times." Oshea savored his own words for a moment--the last time he tried to hurt somebody, he was the one who got hurt. He didn't want Charlie to learn the same way he did, if he were being honest with himself.

But lately everything ran contrary to his personal whims.

Longwinded as he was quick, Oshea continued on, "You know what though, all that fear you feel gon' pass right ova you once they in ya face. All you gon' wanna do is fight. I'on' think you undastand right now, but you'll see. You gon' see, for real. When it go down, it go down! Trust ya mental; trust them gifts you got, you'll be good, rook'. S'all like chess, righ'?" So he hoped. Oshea was never a great purveyor of comforting words, his language was plain, plentiful, and stained by a dim sprout of pesimism all the same. But it worked; rather, he wanted it to work, the last thing he wanted to do was plant doubt in a rookie's head.