nexus_sages | (no subject)

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A young man sits on one of the many couches in the Forum, and sighs at a notebook in his hands. The page is full of scribbled-out text, pages and pages of it. The pages are dog-eared and a bit ragged, indicating he's been using this notebook for a while.

"How can it be this hard to think of a good name for a secret identity?"

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Does the good Captain remember those canon-questionable crossovers with the Justice League? Maybe. If not, he can at least infer enough from context to answer sensibly. "Oh? Maybe something that builds on the family legacy, then."

"That's the plan," Jon says with a nod. "But there's only so many words that sound good when you stick 'Super' in front, I've learned."

"Super-something, hm?" The old man grows thoughtful. "Maybe instead of following type that closely, you could follow the theme--say you're super with some other word? Excelsior, apex, zenith..."

Jon looks intrigued, but slightly skeptical. "Possibly, though then I've got to find two words that sound good together."

"Why two words?"

"Well, I guess I don't have to," Jon admits. "There isn't a rule or anything. But my mom's superhero name was two words, too."

"Oh? Family business, indeed." His tone is an approving one, for all that he worries over children getting tangled up in the insanity of the superhero life. "What was hers?"

"Dark Oak. She's always had this tree theme going on, even though her powers aren't nature-related. Dad's Superman. Super-names run in the family, too. Supergirl and Superboy are cousins of mine."

"Mm. 'Super Sprout' probably isn't the way to go, I suppose?"

Jon doesn't hide his laugh. "I think I'd have a hard time getting taken seriously if I went with that. God forbid the news ever hear them call me Acorn in public. I'd never live it down."

The old man chuckles. "I've seen them pick up worse--although that's an option: don't pick a name at all, just go out and do what you do. The news will throw around a few names for you, and you can see if you like what's on offer, or set the record straight with your own."

"That's kind of what Dad did," Jon says with a nod. "He was 'the Red-Blue Blur' for a while because of it. It was only after he stopped hiding that they started calling him 'Superman.'"

"Ah, so it would even be tradition."

"Yeah. I guess I'm just nervous because I might get stuck with a name I don't like."

"That's why you give yourself an out. If you don't like the names they call you, at some point say, 'actually, I'm--' and go from there."

"Assuming they listen. Newspapers love to go with what's trendy. But I take your point."

"It doesn't matter what they call you, it matters what you answer to," the old man counters with firm certainty.

"You sound too sure of that not to have some kinda personal experience," Jon says, hoping that it's a polite way to ask about it.

"I've had my share of names," the old man admits. "I was Captain America for a long time. Nomad for a while, the Agent once." He pauses, thinking back, then admits, "I once pretended to be Mirage. And I've been called plenty else, besides."

"That's a lot of names," Jon says, raising his eyebrows.

"It was a long career," the old man points out.

"So it was kind of one of those... 'being who you needed to be at the time' sort of things?"

"It was," he confirms, and gives the young man a smile by way of encouragement.

"I guess I get that," Jon agrees, nodding. "Dad didn't start being Superman until he decided to take the plunge and get in the public eye instead of just zipping around so no one could see him."

"That sounds like something I would've done."