<div class="floatleft">(http://nextews.com/images/54/92/54922a357e640ed3.jpg)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Zachary Zatara (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=309416.msg15029970#msg15029970)<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>Sleeveless black hoodie, light-blue vintage jeans with tears, and black Chuck Taylors<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>21 August 2020<br/><strong>TIME:</strong>Within the hour of 12<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Secret Sanctuary, Meeting Chamber, On a Bed that appeared magically some ways from the snack table.<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>Ain't nobody got time for this shit.<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Zatara, Open<br/><br/><hr/><br/><em>Pop!</em>The noise came out of nowhere accompanied by a plume of white smoke. A wooden bed had appeared out of thin air and landed upon the floor away from the snack table with a loud crash. The wooden legs of the bed had broken and lying on his back in a start was a man in a black hoodie. His arms were at his sides, raising at least his shoulders off the mattress. The sleeveless hoodie revealed olive arms covered in intricate tattoos. His hands pushed against the bed, raising himself higher until he was seated on his light-blue denim-covered bum. The hem about his ankles were frayed and a vintage cut was in the knee. Bright, hazel eyes darted from the shadow of his hood about the meeting chamber as his brain processed what had happened.<br/><br/>As soon as he took note of all the super heroes gathered, especially his Uncle Zatara, the corner of Zach’s lip cocked in amused. “I see what happened now,” he muttered before he tipped his head back in laughter. He then glanced over to his uncle still wearing a smug smile. “You knew I wasn’t gonna show up to this abysmal casting call.”<br/><br/>Zach’s smile fell from his face as he tilted his head and regarded his uncle carelessly, “You know I can always leave right?”<br/><br/>As he thought over it further, he wasn’t in the mood to get into a magical showdown with his uncle. Zach flopped back upon his bed and crossed his arms behind his head. His hood cast a shadow over his face above his nose and lips as the ceiling lighting played over more tattoos visible about his neck and collar. He crossed his left leg over his right, resting his calf upon his knee and muttered, “Whatever man. You’re not cutting into my time.”<br/><br/>He reached a hand into the front pouch pocket of his hoodie and removed his cell phone and headphones. He put the earbuds into his ears as he pulled up the UTube and started watching his recommended list.