[center][h1][color=FireBrick]Oshea Jackson[/color][/h1]
[img]https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/2d/XMEN_Synch.jpg[/img]
("I never worry much about dying, everybody I knew died while they were livin'.")[/center]
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Sabertooth, he was one ugly cat. He also wasn't the type of feline who played with yarn and drank mile, the kind of cat Oshea liked. He wasn't even a cat; he was a dog. Ugly mutt. Sabertooth was dangerous, all the Brotherhood were dangerous--they were organized, ruthless, and comprised of some of the strongest mutants in existence--except for Toad. No one respects Toad. Thoughts ran through Oshea's head a mile a minute, he couldn't slow them down; he never could. Would they survive? What would happen if they failed? Death wasn't probabl right? Right? No, it always was. Oshea knew he was fast, but no one he ever knew was fast enough to outrun the Reaper.

It plagued his mind, a sullen veneer sunk across Oshea's face. He carried himself with caution behind the other group, several paces behind. Usually, he was eager for missions; most of them were easy. This one was different, something about it was heavy. His heart pounded in his chest, it almost leapt out. Ahead, he saw Allison: the bubbly beacon. She seemed so confident and happy, prepared for anything. But Oshea had known many people like her; he grew up poor, and poor folks were masters of masks. Now wasn't the time to inquire, he supposed; for now, he would clear his mind and prepare himself for what was to come. Time to suit up.