Shiro and Nathan

[x-sanfuaiyaa.livejournal.com]

Set for later this afternoon. Nathan watches Shiro try an advanced Thwomp scenario in the DR. When things don't go well, Shiro calls for some help. It's a very good thing that Nathan is still telepathy-less.


"Dammit dammit dammit," Shiro hissed. He slammed against the metal floor beneath him, his personal plasma field saving him front anything more than a few bruises. As the Thwomp dropped and threatened to press him into a pancake, Shiro threw himself backwards . . . straight into the wall. He had to fight the birds and stars that were blurring his vision as he clumsily got to his feet.

He was not going to let these Thwomps get the best of him. He'd already failed this scenario once today. He wasn't going to make it twice.

In the control room above, Nathan made a face and reached out with his good hand to trigger the exterior mikes. "Sunfire! Settle down," he said, wishing for his telepathy back properly so that he could project it right into the younger man's brain. "You push that hard, training accidents happen, and I speak from personal experience - Voght is not impressed when she gets casualties from the Danger Room!"

Not for the first time today, Shiro asked himself why he'd signed up for training now, with Nathan assigned to the control room. The Thwomps set him off enough as it is, and adding this into the mix did nothing to improve his temperament. What he wouldn't give for Scott to be the one up there. Not just for the obvious reasons, but his comment back in San Diego ("I'm proud of you") still echoed in his head, and he'd kill to hear it again.

Maybe it was a good thing he wasn't here, though. Two Thwomps slammed against each other, and Shiro just barely flew out of the way in time. The loud clap that followed two tons of steel smacking into each other jarred him, and he didn't see another ride up from beneath him.

Shiro swore even louder when it touched his foot and the alarm signaling the end of the scenario went off.

Nathan leaned back in his chair with a groan, rubbing at his jaw. Shiro was not focusing, his concentration was clearly all over the place. He reached out and triggered the mikes again.

"Do we want to try that again?" He paused. "Are you fit to try that again?" he asked with a trace of sarcasm. "I noticed how hard you hit the wall."

'I will not blast the control room I will not blast the control room . . .' Shiro shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Concentrate. He had to concentrate. He was paying too much attention to where he had been and not enough to where he ought to be. There was a pattern here, he'd recognized that much.

His hand fell to his side, and he nearly jumped when he felt the small bulge in his pocket. "I will be fine!" he called back. "I just need a drink of water." The problem wasn't so much that he wasn't thinking. He just wasn't moving fast enough. Shiro quickly ran to the locker room and withdrew the small inhaler from his pocket. His aura was up and stronger than ever when he walked back into the Danger Room.

Nathan straightened in his chair, frowning a bit at the brighter aura surrounding Shiro as he came back in. Okay then... "Setting up the scenario again," he said, entering the commands on the console. "Starting in five..."

This must be what it's like to have a healing factor, Shiro thought, the pain from his earlier trials disappearing. I could get used to this. He felt rather than heard the rumbling beneath his feet as the Thwomps disengaged from the floor, and easily outmaneuvered the first few platforms than rose up. So far so good. Better than the other two times, at least.

He was doing better, Nathan thought, watching him. Rather abruptly better, actually - stubbornness? He wouldn't put it past the kid. Again, he wished for his telepathy as he watched Shiro flying with considerably more agility than before.

Shiro laughed as the Thwomps passed through the trail of fire he left behind him. He was untouchable. This scenario was child's play now, and it made Shiro wonder if he should add drones to the mix. His laugh turned into a smirk, and he dropped to the floor as a horizontal Thwomp was released. But this time, he caught himself mere centimeters above the ground, and threw himself forward as the floor rose. No way he was falling for that again.

Laughing. Shiro was definitely laughing, and Nathan rubbed at his jaw again, frowning. The shift in mood... could be explained by the improved performance, of course. Damn it, I want my telepathy.

All the Thwomps retracted into the walls, floor, and ceiling, and Shiro just hung there in the air. "Well, that's anticlimactic," he muttered. Did he finish? But the alarm hadn't gone off yet, so he couldn't have. He darted around the DR, not unlike a hummingbird, looking for any loose panels that might signify a waiting Thwomp.

He saw it almost too late. It came out from the wall, and Shiro flew straight up to avoid it. But then another one right above it came out, and then another, and then another, until Shiro was almost hugging the ceiling. And then he heard the gears above him move. Shitshitshitsh . . . He flew across the room, his path erratic, as every Thwomp seemed to release at once. It reminded Shiro of July 4th fireworks, where the finale begins after a brief respite and everything goes off at once.

Nathan leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as Shiro made his last run. Speed's still up, agility's good... now, don't smear yourself on the wall again, kid...

Shiro realized too late that he was moving too quickly to stop in time. He was going to hit the wall, smash his face, and fail training for the third time today. Unless he could break the laws of physics and just lose all his momentum instantly.

He started laughing again as the idea came to him. He might need to put in some volunteer repair time, but at least he'd win. Forcing power through his body, down his arm, and into his hand, Shiro blasted at the wall in front of him, all the while trying to put the brakes on. Thank the gods for Newton's third law of motion. The force he exerted on the wall was exerted back at him, and within seconds, he once again hung motionless in midair.

Shiro cheered himself when he heard the alarm ding.

Nathan raised an eyebrow as he got a good look at the wall of the Danger Room. He reached out and triggered the exterior mikes one last time. "Well, that was impressive," he said. "I'm sure the wall thinks so, too."

Shiro smiled faux-sweetly at Nathan in the control room. "About time somebody demonstrates to the X-Men how to fly, don't you think?"

Nathan's jaw tightened. "I'm not flying anywhere at the moment, Shiro," he said curtly, "in case you'd forgotten." He glanced down at the chronometer on the console, wrestling with more anger than he really should be feeling. He'd started the ribbing, after all. "Speed was good. If you hadn't nearly blown a hole in the wall I'd say you were damned near perfect on this last run. A little on the reckless side, though."

"I am alive, and not tenderized," Shiro retorted, floating over to the wall to get a closer look at the damage. He was actually quite impressed. With his level of power, he could have easily blown a hole through the Danger Room. One melted panel was a small price to pay for the road to perfection. "I'll e-mail Storm about assisting with repairs. Wouldn't want to give the trainees any bad ideas."

"Write up your assessment, after you've showered," Nathan said just as brusquely, already rising from his chair. "I'll have mine in the database sometime tomorrow. After I review the tape on your less successful runs."

Shiro saluted, "Yessir!" and lowered himself to the ground. "I look forward to seeing you in here after you have . . . recovered." He hid a smirk behind a cough, and a little voice in the back of his head told him that he could only push it so far. Said voice was promptly stuffed back into its little box.

Nathan glared down into the Danger Room for a moment, but then made himself turn and leave the control booth. He was not a teenager. He didn't get the luxury of firing back after shots like that.

Being old and responsible occasionally sucked.