Contrary to popular opinion among the Acolytes, Sabretooth did actually do
something to take care of his appearance. He'd spent the past ten minutes
in the river, swimming to rid himself of sweat, dirt, and blood from past
encounters. He'd also scared a troop of boy scouts half to death when
they'd come across him swimming in the nude. They'd gotten off lucky.
Sabretooth was having one of his more laid-back days and contented himself
with making them run off screaming. He'd only scratched one and thrown
another into a tree.
Sabretooth went back to where he'd left his clothes. After kicking the ragged remains that had been his uniform before the last battle, Sabretooth came to the conclusion that not even the coat was salvageable. After centuries with his mutation and blood-lust, he knew what could be brought back. Of course, that didn't mean he wouldn't give anyone who found out he could sew a very painful lesson about respecting other's privacy.
Well, at least the current base was way out in the woods. He could walk there without having anyone bug him for not caring about such civilized things as covering his own rear. Of course, when it came to the saying rather than the literal, he was very good at doing exactly that. Sabretooth idly stretched. That last fight had really helped him take care of some of his problems. He was probably the only one who could induce a fight for aesthetic reasons.
After years of living in the wild, Creed found brushes and haircuts to be an incredibly strange idea, so he refused to use them. Of course, that meant that his fur got matted up over the course of time. It hadn't taken him long enough to figure out an alternative to cutting or brushing out the mats. All he had to do was get in a knife fight and let the other guy cut them out for him while he entertained himself. The runt was particularly good at it. There was more than one reason that he kept hunting Logan down.
Sabretooth had finally reached the log cabin that was the current base of operations. He walked in, noting that all his companions had their usual reactions. Remy ignored him, Piotr turned away and blushed, and John created half a dozen flaming Creeds to follow after the original. Of course, the original wasn't involved in the flaming Congo line. Creed saw some new papers from Magneto laying on the table. He grabbed them and settled down to read as the now scarlet Russian left the room. Prude.
After realizing that it was just reports on old operations and not instructions on tearing apart new targets, Creed threw the papers in disgust. He could read them later, if he had to. For now he was going to his room to get dressed before the Russian had a hernia.
Creed enjoyed the ability his mutation gave him to do things other than just try to look his best. He didn't have to look acceptable to popular society. Anyone who tried to say anything bad about his looks would immediately find the error in their ways, and very few who ever met him were even tempted to try. His mutation meant that bites from fleas, ticks, and lice didn't bother him, so he didn't bother getting rid of them. They actually came in handy sometimes. They convinced his annoying teammates, especially Pyro, to keep their distance. If he was ever captured and didn't have the opportunity to 'play' with every soldier in the base, he knew that the little critters would get at least some of their blood in his stead. Fleas were good.
Sabretooth never brushed his teeth because he wanted to give anyone he bit every disease he possibly could. He didn't smooth out his coat because the bits of dirt and moss in it helped act as camouflage. Everything he did had a practical reason behind it.
Quite frankly, he was disgusted with his teammates cleaning habits. They never let nature wash them clean, instead depending on the metallic, recycled water from pipes. Even after that, they had to make themselves smell even worse with that disgusting stink-water half of them used. At least the Russian was smart enough to leave it alone. They never even took the time to clean their weapons properly. Pyro always had so much gunk on his flame-throwers that Sabretooth was ashamed to be seen in his presence.
Sabretooth didn't have that problem. He took care to make sure that his bike told others exactly what to expect, and always took care not to wear anything that would make him be seen as anything but a warrior. He even extended his habits to the weapons of his own body. Sabretooth removed the nail file he'd hidden within his room and started sharpening his claws. When he was done, he'd put some oil on them to make them look nice, sleek, and deadly. He knew how to take care of the parts of his appearance that really mattered.
_________________________________________________________
Opinions?
Sabretooth went back to where he'd left his clothes. After kicking the ragged remains that had been his uniform before the last battle, Sabretooth came to the conclusion that not even the coat was salvageable. After centuries with his mutation and blood-lust, he knew what could be brought back. Of course, that didn't mean he wouldn't give anyone who found out he could sew a very painful lesson about respecting other's privacy.
Well, at least the current base was way out in the woods. He could walk there without having anyone bug him for not caring about such civilized things as covering his own rear. Of course, when it came to the saying rather than the literal, he was very good at doing exactly that. Sabretooth idly stretched. That last fight had really helped him take care of some of his problems. He was probably the only one who could induce a fight for aesthetic reasons.
After years of living in the wild, Creed found brushes and haircuts to be an incredibly strange idea, so he refused to use them. Of course, that meant that his fur got matted up over the course of time. It hadn't taken him long enough to figure out an alternative to cutting or brushing out the mats. All he had to do was get in a knife fight and let the other guy cut them out for him while he entertained himself. The runt was particularly good at it. There was more than one reason that he kept hunting Logan down.
Sabretooth had finally reached the log cabin that was the current base of operations. He walked in, noting that all his companions had their usual reactions. Remy ignored him, Piotr turned away and blushed, and John created half a dozen flaming Creeds to follow after the original. Of course, the original wasn't involved in the flaming Congo line. Creed saw some new papers from Magneto laying on the table. He grabbed them and settled down to read as the now scarlet Russian left the room. Prude.
After realizing that it was just reports on old operations and not instructions on tearing apart new targets, Creed threw the papers in disgust. He could read them later, if he had to. For now he was going to his room to get dressed before the Russian had a hernia.
Creed enjoyed the ability his mutation gave him to do things other than just try to look his best. He didn't have to look acceptable to popular society. Anyone who tried to say anything bad about his looks would immediately find the error in their ways, and very few who ever met him were even tempted to try. His mutation meant that bites from fleas, ticks, and lice didn't bother him, so he didn't bother getting rid of them. They actually came in handy sometimes. They convinced his annoying teammates, especially Pyro, to keep their distance. If he was ever captured and didn't have the opportunity to 'play' with every soldier in the base, he knew that the little critters would get at least some of their blood in his stead. Fleas were good.
Sabretooth never brushed his teeth because he wanted to give anyone he bit every disease he possibly could. He didn't smooth out his coat because the bits of dirt and moss in it helped act as camouflage. Everything he did had a practical reason behind it.
Quite frankly, he was disgusted with his teammates cleaning habits. They never let nature wash them clean, instead depending on the metallic, recycled water from pipes. Even after that, they had to make themselves smell even worse with that disgusting stink-water half of them used. At least the Russian was smart enough to leave it alone. They never even took the time to clean their weapons properly. Pyro always had so much gunk on his flame-throwers that Sabretooth was ashamed to be seen in his presence.
Sabretooth didn't have that problem. He took care to make sure that his bike told others exactly what to expect, and always took care not to wear anything that would make him be seen as anything but a warrior. He even extended his habits to the weapons of his own body. Sabretooth removed the nail file he'd hidden within his room and started sharpening his claws. When he was done, he'd put some oil on them to make them look nice, sleek, and deadly. He knew how to take care of the parts of his appearance that really mattered.
_________________________________________________________
Opinions?
