[log] Yukimura, Tezuka
Date: 12/15/07
Rating: G~
Summary: Yukimura discovers a new 'student' making use of the Danger Room. Tezuka sets a goal for himself. I don't do witty summaries. >>;
As far as he'd seen, not many of his fellow Ryuhana students made use of the Danger Room beyond what was required for their training sessions. Personally, Yukimura Seiichi thought they were missing out. The simulations in the Danger Room provided a vast array of experiences, some of which, if programmed correctly, couldn’t be experienced anywhere on Earth. True, there was little that could beat the real thing -- but it was difficult to train with one's powers while in the midst of reality. And the Danger Room could be paused, repeated, stopped and retried infinite times, for infinite outcomes, in relative safety.
Still, he was surprised to actually be waiting for use of it.
Yukimura leaned back in one of the chairs in the control room, idly twirling a pencil at the edge of his vision with his power; the sweats and jacket he'd worn over his training uniform for the walk between his room at the faculty apartments and the basement of the classroom building had already been stripped off and folded neatly on another nearby chair. The computer, however, had not yet been brought to life. Its screens were black, the controls untouched and even the room's lights still dim, as the young telekinetic watched another, unfamiliar mutant through the heavy pane of glass that separated the control room from the Danger Room itself.
At first, it had been strange doing this. More than once, Tezuka had wondered what he was doing, standing in the middle of this large room glaring at the metal chair. Yet he had obediently come back day after day, ever since the day he had...
Manifested, Dr. Hanamura had said. Mutated, the doctors at the hospital had said.
Tezuka resisted the headache threatening to appear. Ignorance was widespread, and it would do no good getting angry at one doctor when there were ten more with the same beliefs. It's not an illness, Tezuka had said; the doctor had accepted it in the way that Tezuka suspected he might accept a cancer patient saying they would recover from a malignant growth. Equating gene mutation with cancer. It was true cancer was a mutation of cells, but how could one compare to the other? How could this?
The vague pulling feeling had grown stronger and more tangible with practice, and Tezuka could feel it right now, a light something at the edge of his perception, a presence beginning to interfere with the edges of a bubble he could not see. Taking a deep breath, Tezuka closed his eyes, willing himself to relax. He took another breath and stepped forward, feeling the presence pushing further into the bubble, registering a slight quake and tremor. Then he heard it, a scrape of metal across the floor. Harder, he thought, opening his eyes to watch the chair. It quivered, a light rattle of metal. Tezuka raised his arm, not thinking about what he was doing, focusing on merely pulling, slowly, slowly...
The chair shook and tipped a little bit. Then suddenly it toppled and shot towards Tezuka without warning, flying towards him. It was too fast--Tezuka could see the fork flash by his mind's eye. Instinct took over as he pushed as hard as he could, wildly in all directions. He could feel the bubble expand, the reversing of the force, and all he could think of was getting that away from him before it hit.
There was a loud crash, and he stared at where the chair had landed, thrown against the wall. The crash had echoed, loudly, but now the sound had died down, and it felt far too quiet to Tezuka. He was breathing hard, and he felt dizzy. Perhaps that had been too much too soon; he should have practiced control and finesse with something a little smaller. If only paperclips would stay put for him to practice on.
Tezuka took another breath. He would try again. He walked towards the chair, stopping about two arm's reaches from it, and faced it. Already he could feel the forces intersecting. Slowly. Let's not get careless. He focused intently, his awareness of the world narrowing into a universe of pulling and pushing, opposing forces he couldn't see but felt strongly. Again.
Still seated, Yukimura winced sympathetically as the loud crash resounded over the control room's speakers. The chair had been headed right toward the unknown mutant, cutting quickly through the air, but just as suddenly, it had been thrown back.
Its movements seemed a bit haphazard to the telekinetic. Almost…frantic, actually, he thought, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the control panel and his chin in his palm. The chair had been moving forward slowly enough, scratching across the ground, but then it had leapt up at the other before being hurled backward.
Early days then, Yukimura assumed. The pencil just inside his peripheral vision wobbled a bit before starting to spin the other way, its motions guided by little more than the occasional, conscious push with his powers. Still, he could remember early days -- the random things that would suddenly shoot up mid-air in the room, the sharp headaches as he tried to settle them down, and the hours of training once he'd been accepted into the Institute just so he could not lift things without thinking about it. He'd probably done exercises just like this.
Though most of the objects he'd moved didn't fly straight at him.
And if the other's control was still in development, then most likely, he was not staff at Ryuhana. He also looked too old to be a student, but then, one didn't need to be in high school to have powers manifest.
It was now Tezuka's fifth try. The chair looked a little battered now, but then again, after having been thrown against the wall twice (and stopping just short the other two times), it was unlikely to look in pristine condition. Tezuka was tiring, but stubbornly refused to stop. I'll stop once I master this, he told himself. One more try. This time the chair wobbled but didn't tip over, and began to scrape across the room slowly. The grating filled Tezuka's ears, and he winced, but he steeled his jaws and forced himself to continue pulling, slowly.
Five feet away, the chair leapt, but by then Tezuka was ready, and he grabbed it with his hands, stopping its advance. He stood there a moment, frozen, and then relaxed. I understand.
There was a hint of a smile on Tezuka's face. He left the chair where it was, walked away, and then repeated it again, the slow pull, the scraping of legs across the floor. Carefully, and the pull must lessen just so, right before the force is _this_ strong. He repeated this three more times before he was satisfied that he had it under control. Tomorrow, he would use a different object.
Now, to control repulsion. Tezuka faced the chair, and then walked forward until he could feel the forces intersect. He pushed, intensifying his opposing force.
The chair toppled over away from him. Not like that, then. Walking towards it, Tezuka wondered if he could lift the chair. Pulling directly wouldn't work, not unless he managed to maneuver himself so he was above the chair.
It would be easier to just lift it up and avoid friction all together. Or at least, that was Yukimura's experience. And if the other was a form of a telekinetic, like himself, then it would be more prudent to do so. His initial assumption was, after all, that the other was a telekinetic, but watching him now?
Yukimura wasn't so certain.
Most TK's had issues with things going up or being pushed away, not coming straight at them. Of course, there were also no hard and fast rules about how a TK's power behaved -- if the stranger was even a telekinetic.
Leaning back, Yukimura stretched his arms overhead and let the pencil settle back down on the console. TK or not, the other was certainly not putting the Danger Room to its fullest potential, and what he was doing? Could easily be taken care of in any empty classroom, even if it meant clearing the whole room out for just that one chair. He sighed, spun the chair around by way of his power, and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes more.
This was going to get boring. He had homework, true, but it was also not due until later that week and already partly done; what was left would not take him very long. It was mostly English, after all, which left him only with going to the gym and working out with his power and weights or staying here and waiting if he wished to train. Neither option sounded particularly interesting. It was a pity the other mutant probably didn't even realize that someone was waiting on the Danger Room. Though perhaps if he did…
The seventeen year old smiled softly to himself and pressed a few buttons on the console, initiating the computer and setting up the program he would use later on. It would only take his voice commands to activate the holograms.
Then he stood up and exited the control room, circling around the halls to the main doors of the Danger Room itself.
In the meantime, Tezuka had been studying the forces he could feel. He could assimilate the forces; he had an idea how they interacted, now, and he experimentally tilted them a little. The chair rattled lightly.
It took a lot more concentration now, after what might have been close to an hour in the room. Tezuka's limit was approaching. But he could feel it, the conscious slant of the power. There were invisible currents flowing about him, winds that cooled no skin nor relieved heat; and Tezuka could control these "winds". Up, Tezuka thought, and he pulled, but the initial attempt didn't move the chair. A moment's reflection reminded Tezuka that he would need to counter gravity now.
Up. But the chair didn't move. Up. A light rattle, and then the chair settled again.
Tezuka frowned--he could feel his control beginning to slip. Perhaps one more try. He took a deep breath, feeling the wind surround him, and then focused, willing it to concentrate in one area to amplify the pull. There ...
UP.
The chair flew in an arc, over Tezuka's head. He flinched--NO!--and it bounced mid-air--directly towards the opening doors.
"Look out!" Tezuka shouted, powers desperately reaching for purchase on metal, not succeeding.
There were times when Yukimura was grateful for the fact that his training hadn't just covered his powers alone. He saw the chair coming at him the moment the door opened, but instead of freezing, he stepped back out of the trajectory path even as his powers reacted.
The chair stilled mid-air.
Yukimura let out a small breath, half-chuckling under his breath. "It's fine," he called back to the new mutant in the Danger Room. "I've got it." At least, he thought he did. The chair was being suspended by the force of his own power, yet he could feel it pulling backwards against him. Strange. Though probably not unexpected, if the other supposed-TK had also grabbed onto it. Yukimura was reluctant to let it go, however; with the power-based tug of war -- him keeping it still and the other trying to tug it back -- it could easily shoot off in the opposite direction.
The chair wasn't moving anymore, and Tezuka moved closer, hoping to take the weight off the other (definitely younger) mutant. He could feel his grasp on it slip--it was barely at the edge of his range. Though he could feel the chair, he suspected it wasn't his power keeping it up.
"I apologize," he said, walking slowly. He wasn't sure what to say when he'd just sent a chair hurtling towards a younger mutant, and suddenly felt very tired. The other said he had the chair under control, and maybe he did. Tezuka didn't know what other mutations there were in the school, and this other person seemed to be a student, and an experienced one at that. It would be better to conserve his energy--that last move had been decidedly careless.
"I'm letting let go now," Tezuka said, though it cost him a small piece of his pride. He took a breath, and slowly released his hold. The chair stayed where it was, and Tezuka kept an eye on it, ready to rush forward and push the other out of the way if it wavered, but grateful he hadn't done any harm. He glanced at the other. "Thank you. I'm very relieved it didn't hit you. Again, I apologize."
The tugging ceased, the chair falling wholly under Yukimura's control. "Ah, don't worry about it," he smiled. "No harm done."
And it wasn't like he hadn't known there was a risk just walking in to the Danger Room when another mutant was practicing. But a chair was hardly something he was going to be afraid of. Calmly, the telekinetic spun the chair upright in the air, then drifted it over to settle on the floor near the far wall, out of the way.
His attention returned to the stranger in the Danger Room with him. "I was just wondering if you could tell me how much longer you might be in here?" he grinned, shrugging his shoulders.
The blatant display of the other's powers and control did not go unnoticed. Are you keen to show me how far behind I am? Tezuka thought, an idea that was not reflected in his face. He didn't appreciate the feeling that he was being dismissed because his powers were unworthy of the room, either. The other's mutant powers were clearly far more developed than his at the moment though, so Tezuka could understand how this young mutant could think so. It's not personal. He's young, and he may have been waiting a while.
He would have stopped in a few minutes, anyway, Tezuka thought. "I was just leaving," he said. He'd come back tomorrow; hopefully the room would be unused. If not, he would simply need to find another time to visit. It was unfair to make others change their schedules for his sake, after all. He was the latecomer. I have a lot of catching up to do, but that relies on my effort alone. I shouldn't hold others back. Aloud, he said, "Please take your time. Excuse me." With a nod of his head, Tezuka turned, leaving the room.
Yukimura might have just shrugged it off and pointed out that he just wanted to know how much longer the other needed, but he didn't even get the chance as the elder mutant slipped by him and out the door. Well, he supposed that solved that.
He took a moment to stretch, then opened the doors into the Danger Room and grabbed the chair with his powers. It floated out easily, settling down on the other side of the hall -- and safely out of his way. Then he shut and sealed the door. Returning to the center of the room, Yukimura drew a small breath. "Computer. Program on. User. Scion. Password..." Around him, the room shifted and changed from cold metal to dark, dense trees. The lights dimmed to night. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of voices carried through the wind.
Now to just find them. Before they found him.
Walking away from the danger room, Tezuka thought about the younger mutant he'd just met. He had obviously been very comfortable with his powers; the chair had given Tezuka trouble, but the other had had no trouble controlling it. A telekinetic, perhaps--Tezuka hadn't sensed any other magnetic forces, and it certainly seemed in line with what Tezuka imagined being a telekinetic was like. The mutant wasn't shy about using his powers, that Tezuka had to admit.
While he was being honest, Tezuka was also forced to admit that he might be tempted to display his powers if they had been as well-developed as the other's had. He wondered how long one needed to train before one reached that level.
Sounds were coming from the control room as Tezuka passed by, and he looked in to see the computers whirring and the monitors filled with a figure and face he'd just left behind. On the screens, Yukimura was flying through trees, dodging branches and what seemed to be shots. Looking through the glass--he had not noticed glass before, but it made sense; Tezuka made a mental note to find out if he was being watched next time--Tezuka noticed that the room had darkened considerably, full of trees now.
It was difficult to believe those trees he could see in the distance had moments ago been metal wall. Tezuka watched as Yukimura dodged bullets and shot back at enemies Tezuka couldn't spot from the monitors. Yukimura bent, flying past the mirrors, and Tezuka moved back instinctively, but Yukimura merely intercepted a small dark object that had been headed straight for the glass, and threw it in another direction. Tezuka could hear the sound of impact and the resultant cry.
He watched Yukimura train, and was forced to admit the difference in their abilities. At the moment. Tezuka would work harder. He could start tonight. If one thought about it, training with mutant powers could be likened to training with wrist and ankle weights. Tezuka had done that before. This time he would be training with the mental equivalent of weights. I won't be found wanting.
Besides, he wanted to use that room. Properly. The way it should be used. The way Yukimura was using it.
With one more backwards glance at the banks of monitors, Tezuka left. In the meantime, he had research to do. Hanamura-sensei had prescribed learning as much as possible about one's powers. Tezuka had been reading, before, but it had felt like reading for school, rote memorization and learning things he understood abstractly. Now he felt perhaps he knew what he would be reading for.
Rating: G~
Summary: Yukimura discovers a new 'student' making use of the Danger Room. Tezuka sets a goal for himself. I don't do witty summaries. >>;
As far as he'd seen, not many of his fellow Ryuhana students made use of the Danger Room beyond what was required for their training sessions. Personally, Yukimura Seiichi thought they were missing out. The simulations in the Danger Room provided a vast array of experiences, some of which, if programmed correctly, couldn’t be experienced anywhere on Earth. True, there was little that could beat the real thing -- but it was difficult to train with one's powers while in the midst of reality. And the Danger Room could be paused, repeated, stopped and retried infinite times, for infinite outcomes, in relative safety.
Still, he was surprised to actually be waiting for use of it.
Yukimura leaned back in one of the chairs in the control room, idly twirling a pencil at the edge of his vision with his power; the sweats and jacket he'd worn over his training uniform for the walk between his room at the faculty apartments and the basement of the classroom building had already been stripped off and folded neatly on another nearby chair. The computer, however, had not yet been brought to life. Its screens were black, the controls untouched and even the room's lights still dim, as the young telekinetic watched another, unfamiliar mutant through the heavy pane of glass that separated the control room from the Danger Room itself.
At first, it had been strange doing this. More than once, Tezuka had wondered what he was doing, standing in the middle of this large room glaring at the metal chair. Yet he had obediently come back day after day, ever since the day he had...
Manifested, Dr. Hanamura had said. Mutated, the doctors at the hospital had said.
Tezuka resisted the headache threatening to appear. Ignorance was widespread, and it would do no good getting angry at one doctor when there were ten more with the same beliefs. It's not an illness, Tezuka had said; the doctor had accepted it in the way that Tezuka suspected he might accept a cancer patient saying they would recover from a malignant growth. Equating gene mutation with cancer. It was true cancer was a mutation of cells, but how could one compare to the other? How could this?
The vague pulling feeling had grown stronger and more tangible with practice, and Tezuka could feel it right now, a light something at the edge of his perception, a presence beginning to interfere with the edges of a bubble he could not see. Taking a deep breath, Tezuka closed his eyes, willing himself to relax. He took another breath and stepped forward, feeling the presence pushing further into the bubble, registering a slight quake and tremor. Then he heard it, a scrape of metal across the floor. Harder, he thought, opening his eyes to watch the chair. It quivered, a light rattle of metal. Tezuka raised his arm, not thinking about what he was doing, focusing on merely pulling, slowly, slowly...
The chair shook and tipped a little bit. Then suddenly it toppled and shot towards Tezuka without warning, flying towards him. It was too fast--Tezuka could see the fork flash by his mind's eye. Instinct took over as he pushed as hard as he could, wildly in all directions. He could feel the bubble expand, the reversing of the force, and all he could think of was getting that away from him before it hit.
There was a loud crash, and he stared at where the chair had landed, thrown against the wall. The crash had echoed, loudly, but now the sound had died down, and it felt far too quiet to Tezuka. He was breathing hard, and he felt dizzy. Perhaps that had been too much too soon; he should have practiced control and finesse with something a little smaller. If only paperclips would stay put for him to practice on.
Tezuka took another breath. He would try again. He walked towards the chair, stopping about two arm's reaches from it, and faced it. Already he could feel the forces intersecting. Slowly. Let's not get careless. He focused intently, his awareness of the world narrowing into a universe of pulling and pushing, opposing forces he couldn't see but felt strongly. Again.
Still seated, Yukimura winced sympathetically as the loud crash resounded over the control room's speakers. The chair had been headed right toward the unknown mutant, cutting quickly through the air, but just as suddenly, it had been thrown back.
Its movements seemed a bit haphazard to the telekinetic. Almost…frantic, actually, he thought, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the control panel and his chin in his palm. The chair had been moving forward slowly enough, scratching across the ground, but then it had leapt up at the other before being hurled backward.
Early days then, Yukimura assumed. The pencil just inside his peripheral vision wobbled a bit before starting to spin the other way, its motions guided by little more than the occasional, conscious push with his powers. Still, he could remember early days -- the random things that would suddenly shoot up mid-air in the room, the sharp headaches as he tried to settle them down, and the hours of training once he'd been accepted into the Institute just so he could not lift things without thinking about it. He'd probably done exercises just like this.
Though most of the objects he'd moved didn't fly straight at him.
And if the other's control was still in development, then most likely, he was not staff at Ryuhana. He also looked too old to be a student, but then, one didn't need to be in high school to have powers manifest.
It was now Tezuka's fifth try. The chair looked a little battered now, but then again, after having been thrown against the wall twice (and stopping just short the other two times), it was unlikely to look in pristine condition. Tezuka was tiring, but stubbornly refused to stop. I'll stop once I master this, he told himself. One more try. This time the chair wobbled but didn't tip over, and began to scrape across the room slowly. The grating filled Tezuka's ears, and he winced, but he steeled his jaws and forced himself to continue pulling, slowly.
Five feet away, the chair leapt, but by then Tezuka was ready, and he grabbed it with his hands, stopping its advance. He stood there a moment, frozen, and then relaxed. I understand.
There was a hint of a smile on Tezuka's face. He left the chair where it was, walked away, and then repeated it again, the slow pull, the scraping of legs across the floor. Carefully, and the pull must lessen just so, right before the force is _this_ strong. He repeated this three more times before he was satisfied that he had it under control. Tomorrow, he would use a different object.
Now, to control repulsion. Tezuka faced the chair, and then walked forward until he could feel the forces intersect. He pushed, intensifying his opposing force.
The chair toppled over away from him. Not like that, then. Walking towards it, Tezuka wondered if he could lift the chair. Pulling directly wouldn't work, not unless he managed to maneuver himself so he was above the chair.
It would be easier to just lift it up and avoid friction all together. Or at least, that was Yukimura's experience. And if the other was a form of a telekinetic, like himself, then it would be more prudent to do so. His initial assumption was, after all, that the other was a telekinetic, but watching him now?
Yukimura wasn't so certain.
Most TK's had issues with things going up or being pushed away, not coming straight at them. Of course, there were also no hard and fast rules about how a TK's power behaved -- if the stranger was even a telekinetic.
Leaning back, Yukimura stretched his arms overhead and let the pencil settle back down on the console. TK or not, the other was certainly not putting the Danger Room to its fullest potential, and what he was doing? Could easily be taken care of in any empty classroom, even if it meant clearing the whole room out for just that one chair. He sighed, spun the chair around by way of his power, and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes more.
This was going to get boring. He had homework, true, but it was also not due until later that week and already partly done; what was left would not take him very long. It was mostly English, after all, which left him only with going to the gym and working out with his power and weights or staying here and waiting if he wished to train. Neither option sounded particularly interesting. It was a pity the other mutant probably didn't even realize that someone was waiting on the Danger Room. Though perhaps if he did…
The seventeen year old smiled softly to himself and pressed a few buttons on the console, initiating the computer and setting up the program he would use later on. It would only take his voice commands to activate the holograms.
Then he stood up and exited the control room, circling around the halls to the main doors of the Danger Room itself.
In the meantime, Tezuka had been studying the forces he could feel. He could assimilate the forces; he had an idea how they interacted, now, and he experimentally tilted them a little. The chair rattled lightly.
It took a lot more concentration now, after what might have been close to an hour in the room. Tezuka's limit was approaching. But he could feel it, the conscious slant of the power. There were invisible currents flowing about him, winds that cooled no skin nor relieved heat; and Tezuka could control these "winds". Up, Tezuka thought, and he pulled, but the initial attempt didn't move the chair. A moment's reflection reminded Tezuka that he would need to counter gravity now.
Up. But the chair didn't move. Up. A light rattle, and then the chair settled again.
Tezuka frowned--he could feel his control beginning to slip. Perhaps one more try. He took a deep breath, feeling the wind surround him, and then focused, willing it to concentrate in one area to amplify the pull. There ...
UP.
The chair flew in an arc, over Tezuka's head. He flinched--NO!--and it bounced mid-air--directly towards the opening doors.
"Look out!" Tezuka shouted, powers desperately reaching for purchase on metal, not succeeding.
There were times when Yukimura was grateful for the fact that his training hadn't just covered his powers alone. He saw the chair coming at him the moment the door opened, but instead of freezing, he stepped back out of the trajectory path even as his powers reacted.
The chair stilled mid-air.
Yukimura let out a small breath, half-chuckling under his breath. "It's fine," he called back to the new mutant in the Danger Room. "I've got it." At least, he thought he did. The chair was being suspended by the force of his own power, yet he could feel it pulling backwards against him. Strange. Though probably not unexpected, if the other supposed-TK had also grabbed onto it. Yukimura was reluctant to let it go, however; with the power-based tug of war -- him keeping it still and the other trying to tug it back -- it could easily shoot off in the opposite direction.
The chair wasn't moving anymore, and Tezuka moved closer, hoping to take the weight off the other (definitely younger) mutant. He could feel his grasp on it slip--it was barely at the edge of his range. Though he could feel the chair, he suspected it wasn't his power keeping it up.
"I apologize," he said, walking slowly. He wasn't sure what to say when he'd just sent a chair hurtling towards a younger mutant, and suddenly felt very tired. The other said he had the chair under control, and maybe he did. Tezuka didn't know what other mutations there were in the school, and this other person seemed to be a student, and an experienced one at that. It would be better to conserve his energy--that last move had been decidedly careless.
"I'm letting let go now," Tezuka said, though it cost him a small piece of his pride. He took a breath, and slowly released his hold. The chair stayed where it was, and Tezuka kept an eye on it, ready to rush forward and push the other out of the way if it wavered, but grateful he hadn't done any harm. He glanced at the other. "Thank you. I'm very relieved it didn't hit you. Again, I apologize."
The tugging ceased, the chair falling wholly under Yukimura's control. "Ah, don't worry about it," he smiled. "No harm done."
And it wasn't like he hadn't known there was a risk just walking in to the Danger Room when another mutant was practicing. But a chair was hardly something he was going to be afraid of. Calmly, the telekinetic spun the chair upright in the air, then drifted it over to settle on the floor near the far wall, out of the way.
His attention returned to the stranger in the Danger Room with him. "I was just wondering if you could tell me how much longer you might be in here?" he grinned, shrugging his shoulders.
The blatant display of the other's powers and control did not go unnoticed. Are you keen to show me how far behind I am? Tezuka thought, an idea that was not reflected in his face. He didn't appreciate the feeling that he was being dismissed because his powers were unworthy of the room, either. The other's mutant powers were clearly far more developed than his at the moment though, so Tezuka could understand how this young mutant could think so. It's not personal. He's young, and he may have been waiting a while.
He would have stopped in a few minutes, anyway, Tezuka thought. "I was just leaving," he said. He'd come back tomorrow; hopefully the room would be unused. If not, he would simply need to find another time to visit. It was unfair to make others change their schedules for his sake, after all. He was the latecomer. I have a lot of catching up to do, but that relies on my effort alone. I shouldn't hold others back. Aloud, he said, "Please take your time. Excuse me." With a nod of his head, Tezuka turned, leaving the room.
Yukimura might have just shrugged it off and pointed out that he just wanted to know how much longer the other needed, but he didn't even get the chance as the elder mutant slipped by him and out the door. Well, he supposed that solved that.
He took a moment to stretch, then opened the doors into the Danger Room and grabbed the chair with his powers. It floated out easily, settling down on the other side of the hall -- and safely out of his way. Then he shut and sealed the door. Returning to the center of the room, Yukimura drew a small breath. "Computer. Program on. User. Scion. Password..." Around him, the room shifted and changed from cold metal to dark, dense trees. The lights dimmed to night. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of voices carried through the wind.
Now to just find them. Before they found him.
Walking away from the danger room, Tezuka thought about the younger mutant he'd just met. He had obviously been very comfortable with his powers; the chair had given Tezuka trouble, but the other had had no trouble controlling it. A telekinetic, perhaps--Tezuka hadn't sensed any other magnetic forces, and it certainly seemed in line with what Tezuka imagined being a telekinetic was like. The mutant wasn't shy about using his powers, that Tezuka had to admit.
While he was being honest, Tezuka was also forced to admit that he might be tempted to display his powers if they had been as well-developed as the other's had. He wondered how long one needed to train before one reached that level.
Sounds were coming from the control room as Tezuka passed by, and he looked in to see the computers whirring and the monitors filled with a figure and face he'd just left behind. On the screens, Yukimura was flying through trees, dodging branches and what seemed to be shots. Looking through the glass--he had not noticed glass before, but it made sense; Tezuka made a mental note to find out if he was being watched next time--Tezuka noticed that the room had darkened considerably, full of trees now.
It was difficult to believe those trees he could see in the distance had moments ago been metal wall. Tezuka watched as Yukimura dodged bullets and shot back at enemies Tezuka couldn't spot from the monitors. Yukimura bent, flying past the mirrors, and Tezuka moved back instinctively, but Yukimura merely intercepted a small dark object that had been headed straight for the glass, and threw it in another direction. Tezuka could hear the sound of impact and the resultant cry.
He watched Yukimura train, and was forced to admit the difference in their abilities. At the moment. Tezuka would work harder. He could start tonight. If one thought about it, training with mutant powers could be likened to training with wrist and ankle weights. Tezuka had done that before. This time he would be training with the mental equivalent of weights. I won't be found wanting.
Besides, he wanted to use that room. Properly. The way it should be used. The way Yukimura was using it.
With one more backwards glance at the banks of monitors, Tezuka left. In the meantime, he had research to do. Hanamura-sensei had prescribed learning as much as possible about one's powers. Tezuka had been reading, before, but it had felt like reading for school, rote memorization and learning things he understood abstractly. Now he felt perhaps he knew what he would be reading for.