<div class="floatleft">(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CzXxffY-_rc/Srm-kZr59HI/AAAAAAAACy4/bfRCaJ8LqJw/s400/JASON+CHAMBERS++4.JPG)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Victor Creed<br/><strong>Alias:</strong>Sabertooth<br/><strong>Dorm Assignment:</strong>Room 5<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Auditorium<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Camo-Cargo pants, white tank top covered by a button up jacket and running shoes.<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>September 2nd, Early evening<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Dani<br/><hr/><br/>He tilted his head. He felt the sharp tang of anger flickering through his body. It had been a lie, he knew, but a relatively harmless one. He knew that he had powers, he... just wasn't sure what they were yet. Was he like the Hulk from New York, only growing strong when he was angry? No, that wasn't quite it. He was powerful, and more than his body should be at his current size, faster too. Sharper. Better reflexes. And he wasn't like that before. But he still wasn't sure about it. He didn't know.<br/><br/>Someone tell the smartass to shut up, he thought, turning to her. He felt like a Tomahawk, locking on it's target and not letting go. He felt that irritation, burning his his body, begging for action, but something new too. A dull ache in his fingertips, growing as he stepped closer to her. He licked his canines, the action feeling natural.<br/><br/>Why the hell was he getting angry? She was calling him on his bullshit anyway. It was supposed to be a joke, right?<br/><br/>Right?<br/><br/>"It's Victor," He said, his voice calm but shaky," And I'm not the broken one here. You are. Tell your mouth to quit flapping before someone else has to tell it for you," His fingers clenched and the pain was getting worse. His fingernails were bleeding. Again. He clenched his hands into a fist, forcing the pain back," I'm not ashamed of what I am. I just don't know what it is I am yet. Is you're ashamed, you need help. I hear they have a killer psych department around here," He shook his head, feeling his body cooling down. Now to find somewhere where he could wash the blood off of his hands.