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@Eviledd1984 here's the full sheet for your review.


If he could just concentrate for a moment, he could weave a spell to purge the toxins from his body. Or maybe carry his body backward in time to a point before he’d been exposed. Or forward to a point that the toxins had been processed out of the body?

He couldn’t make up his mind. It was like one idea after another, floating in a fog.

Then an explosion ripped a hole between the floors of the tower. The boy looked and saw what appeared to be Shazam emerging from the smoking ruins.

The black-and-gold clad figure started toward him.

Instinctively, the boy shied away, even as he tried to steel himself. “You’re just an illusion. You’re not real. You’re not me,” the boy uttered, speaking to himself to try and muster up the courage to stand up to his hallucination even as he took another step back.

“Teth are you okay?”

The child’s green eyes just blinked. A look of confusion replaced that of fear, before the boy’s head tilted to one side.

That was a... very odd thing for him to say to, well, himself.

Plus, Shazam was way too much of a jerk to ask that. Something about the wisdom of Zehuti. Ultimate intelligence...

...and absolutely zero social skills.

“It’s me, Kara.”

The boy’s head went back at the statement, as what appeared to be Shazam’s face was now speaking with Supergirl’s voice.

“I believe the appropriate idiom for this situation is, I am tripping balls right now,” the boy deadpanned flatly, still noticeably apprehensive toward the spectre of his empowered form, but accepting for the moment that it was just a product of whatever he’d inhaled.

“I need help figuring out where this gas is coming from. Do you know where ventilation room is?”

“The what room?” the boy asked, for a moment looking his age as he stared up at the man, who was really a woman.

Ventilation, as in air conditioning? To be honest, he’d never even given the tower’s method of air circulation a thought.

Maybe if he’d been in his empowered form, he could have helped, but as it was...

That was when it seemed that the air pressure suddenly dialed up, as the tower was aired out. “I have a feeling that’s Red Tornado,” the boy opined aloud.
Later

“Zor Isis Fulmis.”

As he spoke the incantation, the child moved a hand in the air. As he did, the damage that Kara had inflicted from earlier seemed to reverse itself, until the hole was patched as if it had never happened.

Rather than inspecting his handiwork, the child looked down at his hand. Snapping his fingers a few times, pale sparks seemed to form.

He was finally back to being able to cast magic again.

“Well, that was officially annoying,” the boy commented aloud.

The child’s green eyes seemed unusually large as he stared up at the figure before him. A figure that, by all appearances, was himself. The likeness of Shazam peered back at the small youth with an intense energy that caused the air around the larger figure to crackle with electricity.

Then the man’s head went back, his face adopting a sneer as he barked, “Do you not bow before your god?”

“God complex maybe,” the boy uttered under his breath, along with the absolutely necessary roll of his eyes.

A bolt of lightning struck the ground at the child’s feet.

The figure before him seemed larger than life as he levitated up from the ground, voice booming as he spoke, “I am Theo Ramses Teth-Adam. I forged the chains of Egypt into weapons. I built the great cities of Khandaq...”

-tch- the boy uttered, a derisive clicking of his tongue. There was a roll of his head before he leveled a glare up at the figure, arms crossed, and he tossed back, “You made the name up to try and impress the Assyrians.”

Wait, why was he even wasting time with this conversation? His arms un-crossed, making a gesture as if to try and wave off the figure of Shazam, as he boy began to think out loud. “We can’t both exist. An illusion? I bet this is Mister Mind’s work.”

A shadow passing over the boy gave him a warning. Jumping backward, Teth narrowly avoided a fist that slammed down into the floor where he’d been standing.

“Ignore me at your peril, mortal!” the figure of Shazam barked, before a roll of thunder seemed to shake the walls. “I am the THUNDER GOD!”

Hands balled into fists, the child glared up at the glowing megalomaniac. “You were supposed to be the best version of me, and somehow, you’re a total jerk! the boy snapped, before taking a deep breath. His green eyes flashed dangerously as he boasted, “You want to play with lightning? Then let’s do this – SHAZAM!

This was generally the point where Metro Tower was supposed to get hit with lightning and Teth was going to get yelled at for one or more broken window, burned out electrical appliance, and or exploding television.

He also should have been over six feet tall and spitting lightning bolts.

Sadly, none of that was happening right now. And, instead, Teth just found himself staring up at a large fist that was coming right at him.

Pitching himself to one side, the child rolled out from under the sweeping punch and then scrambled to his feet as he started to break into a run.

“This has to be an illusion. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening...” the boy muttered to himself, as he skidded around a corner and broke into a sprint, as a voice came overhead.

This is Red Tornado speaking. I strongly suspect that our base of operations has been struck by some type of airborne poison...

That was reassurance.

...well, maybe not reassurance, but at least it was confirmation of what Teth already suspected. “Great,” the boy muttered, turning another corner and looking to see if this illusionary Shazam was following him or not.

Wait, if he wasn’t real, then why was Teth running?

“We’re under attack and I’m too high to be of use,” the boy remarked aloud.

Definitely not a good look for a new Leaguer.

Metropolis was impressive.

Even the thrift stores were nicer than what he’d found in Fawcett City. That is, at least, until one started sifting through just what it was that one would find in a Metropolis thrift store.

The heather gray t-shirt was obviously second hand, well washed and worn, with a distinctive S-shield emblazoned on the chest that had faded from use.

Humanity, it seemed, never changed. Thousands of years ago, they had built temples and worshipped him as a god. Today, they wore the icons of their heroes on their clothing and spent their money in gift shops, such as the one in the tower. The forms of adoration may have differed, but hero worship was unchanged.

“Gur’sr be pirun!”

Across from the young boy repping the Superman merch, an Atlantean with glowing violet eyes had summoned tendrils of water that snapped and writhed in the air, before lancing out toward the child. Switching from Atlantean to English, Garth snapped, “Quit playing around, transform and get serious.”

A thin smile tugged at the edges of the boy’s mouth. Bringing both arms up, he crossed them at the wrist as his fingers seemed to form some obscure symbol as he uttered, “Asmku het fisos.”

It was a long forgotten language. The echoes of a people whose culture continued only in the child. As soon as he’d spoken the invocation, he split his arms apart.

As he did, the watery spears stopped short of his form, seemingly erupting as droplets of water sprayed harmlessly across the training arena.

“Bring your A-game and I might consider it,” the boy tossed back at the Atlantean mage.

“Heh. Step into the ocean and say that, Shorty,” Garth quipped, faking bravado even as his shoulders slumped slightly in defeat at having his spell broken so easily. Arms crossed over his chest, Tempest raised one eyebrow in curiosity as he asked, “How’d you come up with a counterspell that fast?”

For a moment, the bronze-skinned youth seemed every bit his young age, as he gave a slight roll of his head that was accompanied by a roll of the eyes as he said, “One, appearances not withstanding, I’ve been doing this since before King Tut.”

“About that,” Garth interjected. Gesturing to indicate the timeless hero’s short stature, the Atlantean asked, “Couldn’t you just stay an adult if you wanted?”

The boy shifted underneath Garth’s violet gaze, reaching across his body with one arm as he suddenly looked down, and then away from Tempest. “Yeah, that... that didn’t go well when I tried it,” the boy offered, in a muted tone. After a moment of icy silence, he added, “For anyone.”

Garth just stood there, as though uncertain of what to say. “Heavy,” the former Aqualad deadpanned finally, before asking, “Want to talk about it?”

Teth made a dismissive gesture. “You wouldn’t want to hear about it. Ancient history, right?”

Now it was Garth’s turn to adopt a smug look. “I’m from Atlantis. So, I get it. Can’t live in the past,” the man offered, in a conciliatory tone. Then, electing for a change of topic, opted to get back to what they’d been discussing earlier. “What was the other thing? About my magic, that is.”

The ghost of a soft smile seemed to relax the boy’s apprehensiveness. “Your Atlantean tradition would probably benefit from the study of some wuxing,” Teth offered. “I have some scrolls you could look at. It’d probably help your technique more than if I gave you the answer.”

“Did you seriously just say scrolls?”

Yeah!” the boy exclaimed, slipping back into the energy and enthusiasm appropriate for his age. “The library in the Rock contains humanity’s earliest writings on the mystica arcana. There are clay tablets dating all the way back to Babel!”

A few thousands years hooked up to the wisdom of Zehuti had definitely made the former slave-boy into a bit of a nerd, which was on full display with the enthusiasm he was projecting at the thought of ancient libraries, papyrus scrolls, and inscribed tablets covered with a layer of dust.

It was an energy that Garth clearly did not share. “Dude, ain’t nobody got time for that,” Tempest stated flatly.

Now it was Teth’s turn for his shoulders to slump in defeat, as if Garth had just taken all the air out of him.

“Can’t you put the collection on a Kindle or something?”

The boy blinked. The look of momentary confusion transformed into a scowl as the young Canaanite shot a look up at the Atlantean that made clear his disapproval of the idea. “Nevermind,” Teth uttered, with another roll of his eyes. Instead, turning his back to Garth, the boy started toward the exit into the tower proper. “I’m going to get some coffee.”

Who knew hot bean juice could be so addictive? For a fifteenth century novelty, coffee was proving to be one of Teth’s favorite parts of the modern world.

As Garth watched the boy head for the exit, the Atlantean’s violet eyes began to glow. The droplets of water around the room began to slowly coalesce behind the child’s back.

“Pirun,” Tempest whispered, summoning an orb of water that was suddenly lobbed at Teth’s unsuspecting back like a water balloon.

The boy’s hand came up, his voice echoing, “Fisos,” as he snapped his thumb and finger loudly.

The same moment as the snap, the watery orb reversed it’s arc through the air. As it hit Garth, the water suddenly turned to ice, trapping him in an icy webbing.

“Damn it!” Garth seethed.

Without so much as a glance back, Teth made his way through the door and walked out of the room.

It wasn’t until he was well into his way down the hall that he finally let out the laugh that he’d been holding in, another crack in the veneer of the mature face that the boy put forth.

Then he stopped.

His nose wrinkled, as a look of disgust passed over his face.

He really hoped it wasn’t something that someone had brought into the break room. It wasn’t as bad as when Garth had shared some of his Atlantean cuisine with them – sea urchin surprise was not for the faint of heart – but it definitely wasn’t pleasant.

The boy rounded the corner...

...and found himself stopping short as he nearly collided with someone.

The figure was dressed in black. The lower part of a lightning bolt glowed with an otherworldly light. Teth's head went back, his green eyes tracing up along the lighting bolt until he found that he was looking up at himself.

“This can’t be.”
I heard reworked canon, so here's a take on Shazam that blends Billy Batson and Black Adam.

I think a lot of us were waiting to see sheets to get an idea of what others were doing. I feel like all I knew with any certainty was that we might have a High Elf paladin who was looking for a Blood Elf to play off of. I was about to post my sheet, but I see I waited too long thinking I had more time.

I hope you'll decide to revisit this at some point in the future.
Curious to see the party comp. I have a basic idea that could work any one of three ways in terms of race/class. We seem Alliance heavy, so here's some KEK KEK KEK FOR THE HORDE!

1. Undead (Priest, Rogue)
2. Blood Elf (Warlock, Rogue)
3. Orc (Warlock, Shaman)
I've apologize for the delay in responding. I'm currently on the road, but I should have a sheet up this weekend.
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