<div class="floatleft">(http://cyborgphotos.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/cyborgphotos-wordpress-com-closet_cyborg_by_rocklou-cyborg-man1.jpg)</div><hr/><strong>Name:</strong>Traitor/Jack Cordero<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Kitchen of the Jean Grey Institute<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Carpenter Pants, Hoodie, Sandles.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<br/><hr/><br/>The cyborg in the room smirks and stands up, deciding to answer with a transformation of his own. He reaches up and takes off the hoodie without saying a word. It's when he takes off the hoodie and sets it on the table that it starts. The eyes, windows to the soul, start it off by starting to generate light from their insides with the blue of his eyes starting to slide away to a metallic grey. It only speeds up as soon the entirety of his eyes including the sockets soon look like a computer tried to make an artistic recreation of eyes out of silver. Lines go down his face as hatches seem to open exposing cheek bones made from titanium and pistons with a plastiskin cover. It seems to cascade down his neck, collect in his collar bone, go down his arms and his toned torso exposing that a large amount of what was flesh now was chrome and steel with a think synthetic skin coating.<br/><br/>Pockets of his khakis split revealing that he doctored the pockets so he can access the main weapon system underneath, a pair of futuristic pistols from the looks of them. A hatch on his abs briefly opens and shuts again and he smirks as he does it all.<br/><br/>"<strong>Might change it one day, but for now - I like the idea of them knowing who exactly I am. As for the hummer, I probably drive it better then you do. I talk to it on its terms now, after all.</strong>"<br/><br/>He chuckles once, then starts to turn back- or at least put it all away.