xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxLocation: Fatherxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  Speaking: #919191 | Thought: #D8BFD8
A sense of unease filled him at the watchful eyes of a blonde. His gaze was unnerving somehow, he was different from the other mutants, his demeanor unsettling. Jax pulled his gaze away, an announcement letting them know that orientation would commence in thirty minutes. The snow leopard glanced at his reflection in the glass, straightening out his powder blue suit. Underneath it was a black shirt and paisley tie, not an outfit Jax would pick for himself, as it was most certainly too loud for his liking. Axel had picked it out, stressing the importance of standing out. If Jax wanted to attract the attention of sponsors, this was the way to go.
Jax's stomach was grumbling, that's right, he had skipped lunch, having to rush to get here. It was now nearly dinner time. There was a table laid out with an assortnment of food, since the dining room was currently closed. Jax had his eyes set on it when he noticed another gaze. A man, short, maybe a teenager? Gazing at him. Jax's tail flickered as he observed, his cool gaze settling on him. He veered from the food table, heading in the direction of the lounge.
Cybernetics, those were unmistakable, but they were expensive. How had a mutant gotten their hands on it? Jax stopped a few feet away from the man, taking him in. He was definitely older, with slight wrinkles around his eyes, probably from laughing or smiling in abundance. The mutant had scales, almost unnoticable and an unmistakable cybernetic arm. Was it stolen? It wasn't uncommon for mutants to fish from human trash.
No, from up close, it was a little more rustic, not shiny enough or flashy enough to be human made. "I'm impressed," Jax would not lean in closer to take a look, as that was rude. Then again, he was rasied by humans and not mutants, who seemed to have no qualms with entering your personal space without warning. "Did you make that arm?" Jax extended a hand, where were his manners? "My name is Jax, I'm a Doctor, so your cybernetics caught my attention." Or at least, he was a Doctor before entering this game.
Of course, he had no real degree or oath and his training came from the woman that had raised him after he had escaped the ships, but Jax never let an injured mutant slip through his fingers. People traveled from far and wide across the Tundra to come to him. He knew plants and herbs that could stop a fever, six different types of stitches to sew cuts, and how to diagnose various ailments based on vague symptoms.
"You must be pretty handy with a set of tools." Someone to make note of, depending on his answer. Perhaps in the future, an alliance might be in order. Jax was already thinking strategically, attempting to maximize his chances of survival.