"Computer, activate target, 20 feet, standard style."

Mettaliar's voice rang throughout the empty Danger Room, echoing inside the hallow walls as a target displayed in front of him, exactly as he asked. Mettaliar was used to this; every other day, he'd come down and throw knives for a few hours to pass the time and keep his form in shape. Sighing, he removed his coat and laid it down a few feet behind him showing his blank t-shit as he got into position. All he seemed to do was train, sleep, eat and play music. For almost a year, it seemed, he barely had any sort of contact or conversation outside of normal deli talk when he got food. He wasn't one to mind isolation, yet he was human and did crave some sort of attention from somewhere. In a mansion as big as the one he stayed in, it was surprising how long he stayed away from it's inhabitants. With new people coming in and out all the time, how he kept himself from meeting them was a surprise. Then again, Mettaliar always was one to surprise himself at times.

Taking another breath, he moved his arm up and, like clockwork, created three knives that fell into the tips of his fingers. Two he held to the side while bringing the last one up to face level, eyes set on the target twenty feet away. He recited the forms and rotations through his head as he calculated everything in his brain.

Form one; knife in throwing hand, arm extended for better aim.

Through this he found meditation. The Japanese had perfected this with archery and other techniques; repeat a step consciously while the subconscious is stuck pondering. He wanted to meet more people since it'd been an uncountable number of years since he moved into the Mansion and only a few people he had met through his trials developed some kind of relation, barely any holding up because of Mettaliar's isolation.

Form two; one clockwise rotation of the shoulder, extending through the whole body in preparation of distance and loosening of the rotator cuff.

Why was it that he caused these fallouts? Why was it that Mettaliar never really found the motivation to keep up with those he met and found comfort in knowing? Why didn't wasn't he more respectful to those that call him a friend, as he taught him to be as a boy?

Form three; one clockwise motion around the front of body, releasing blade at the top of the arc.

His meditation got the better of him as he went through his motion and released the blade, falling three circles outside of the bullseye. Mettaliar stared at the miss and shook his head, gathering another blade and holding it in form one.

Let's hope someone else decides to show up; at least I'd have an excuse to talk to someone.

It was one of those lazy February weekends when Gemma found herself lacking anything to do. Well, actually, she always had plenty of things to do, but today, she did not feel like doing any of them. The Mansion was pretty quiet; paperwork was in order; Sam was probably taking a nap; Jorge was working.
Gemma decided to go downstairs and check out the Danger Room.

She had been planning on doing that for a while now. It was part of her unwritten job description, after all: helping the students train and learn to live without their powers. It was a very important task; she just never got around to actually doing it.

Walking down to the Danger Room, she noticed that someone was already inside; Sam had snown her how to check if it was occupied, in order to not walk into a battle scenario or something. Pressing a button on the wall, she called in ahead.

"This is Gemma Taylor, the school councelor. Mind if I come in?"

Mettaliar's arm was almost through with the second motion when the intercom rang out, breaking his train of thought and stopping his arm in it's tracks. His head tilted to the side as the name and title entered his eardrum and caused an eyebrow to be raised. School... councilor? Mettaliar realized then that he was REALLY far behind. He had no idea of there being a councilor inside the mansion. He considered how this would help his current dilemma along with the others he let seep into his subconscious; he had considered seeing someone to talk to, especially someone qualified in the field of talking. Letting his arm rest in it a holding position in front and took aim again. His fingers slightly in motion, bouncing back and forth at the target.

"Door's open, miss. Feel free to come in."

With the last syllable flowing out of his mouth, he started his second motion quickly and released the blade at the top of the arc, just as before. Closer, the blade stuck to the outer ring of the bullseye and quivered for a few seconds from the impact. Mettaliar kept the last blade sheathed and turned his head to the door, hair fixated in front of his scar at the perfect angle to hide it.

"I'm sorry if I'm not supposed to be in here right now, the room was empty. I'm Mettaliar, by the way." Mettaliar let out a small, welcoming smile to the stranger, hoping not to seem too out of place being in a room all alone throwing knives at a target. Inside his mind, he ran through the title of "councilor" and still kept wondering what she was doing in here. I'd be shocked if it was for me.

>>"Door's open, miss. Feel free to come in."

Gemma opened the door and walked in, looking at the boy in front of her. She had been through most of the student files; at least the files of current students. But even though he had obviously been living there long enough to be allowed into the Danger Room unsupervised - which meant he was part of the X team - she realized she did not know all that much about him.

>>"I'm sorry if I'm not supposed to be in here right now, the room was empty. I'm Mettaliar, by the way."

"Nice to meet you" she smiled, shaking his hand "My name is Gemma Taylor. I'm the school's guidance councelor."

In case he missed the notes. Some kids always missed the notes.

"Sorry if I disrupted your training. I was just curious." she said with a small smile "I like to know about the abilities of the people I'm responsible for."

Mettaliar smiled as he shook the hand of the councilor, doing his best not to look the woman up or down; he had control, but he was still a young adult after all. He kept the blade in his little sheath on his side so to not make her feel uncomfortable. The small apology she gave for coming in made him giggle, then sigh and shake his head in a welcoming manner.

"No need to apologize, Ms. Taylor. You actually came at an interesting time as I was pondering how I should be talking to others more instead of sticking to my room or down here." He chuckled again at the coincidence and heard out the reasoning for her being here. He nodded his head and smiled slightly; he had answered the questions of his mutations about a million times by this point and was never shy of continuing to answer it. He held his hand out and attempted do the usual "block-o'-wood and bar-o'-metal" routine. Yet while his mind was focused on creating the block of wood, the block never came. Ever since he was eight, he had never run into this problem before. His eyebrow shot up in confusion before looking up at Gemma completely dumbfounded.

"Well, uhh... I CAN create wooden and metallic objects out of air molecules but... it seems I'm having a hard time showing you proof of it." Again and again, he tried and failed to conjure up a simple block of wood. His mind kept racing and panicking yet still nothing formed. What is wrong with me?

>>"No need to apologize, Ms. Taylor. You actually came at an interesting time as I was pondering how I should be talking to others more instead of sticking to my room or down here."

Gemma smiled. So that's why he did not look familiar. There were a few Mansion residents who hardly ever showed up; some were nocturnal, others just... secretive. Apparently, Mettaliar had been training here for a while now. It was about time she got to meet him.

She tilted her head, and bit back a smirk, as the young man tried and failed to demonstrate his mutation. Maybe it was cruel to do that to a person, but at the same time, it was also kind of fun. Even Mama had a wicked side, after all.

>>"Well, uhh... I CAN create wooden and metallic objects out of air molecules but... it seems I'm having a hard time showing you proof of it."

"No kidding" she chuckled, looking at him "I wonder why... has this happened to you before?"

Mettaliar's cheeks flushed up a bit at the giggle and the scenario. He had never experienced an event like this; he'd gone through the opposite in the past. The whole thing frustrated him to the point where he gave up on it and put his hand behind his head and tried to act natural. To try and pass it off, he gave off a chuckle at the same time so to hide his internal freak out. He never liked messing up and it doubled that the person he failed to impress was a female; he was always embarrassed with himself and things of this caliber never helped very much.

"No, actually," he answered with a chuckle, cheeks still slightly red, "never failed to produce in the past. Hopefully it's just a fluke or something. . . ." His mind kept racking at the reasons why he couldn't produce a simple block of wood, something in his room he could do a million times in a row and barely feel tired. Something was wrong, which lead Mettaliar to think of why Gemma was here. A power reducing mutation maybe, the opposite of Haywire? He seemed convinced to ask but was deterred from asking so bluntly.

"Haha, hey, maybe my power doesn't my power doesn't work around you. In some sort of way, maybe." His tone of voice was sarcastic and joking but it was fairly clear he was implying for an answer; inside his brain he hoped for an answer, else something was wrong with him. He put in a good chuckle afterwords to keep the mood high and not seem like he was blaming her, he just hoped she wouldn't react negatively to his words. His fear of women was in they're unpredictability in words. Sometimes they reacted normally, sometimes... not how Mettaliar would expect.

>>"No, actually, never failed to produce in the past. Hopefully it's just a fluke or something. . . . Haha, hey, maybe my power doesn't my power doesn't work around you. In some sort of way, maybe."

He looked embarrassed and freaked out by now, even if he was trying to hide it. Gemma decided it was enough torture for a start. She smiled at the young man, folding her arms.

"You think so? Hmm." taking a few staps back, she made sure he was out of her aura, before she nodded "Maybe you should try again."

She had great experience with how far her aura reached. She was standing just far enough to allow him to use his abilities. She was not done playing around yet; but she wanted to give him the comfort of knowing he still had his powers, in case he was the kind that tends to freak out without them. One can never know.

Mettaliar raised his left eyebrow as the woman appeared to have something up her sleeve as she took a few steps back. His head tilted naturally at the confusion, figuring only that it was true she might have been causing this lack of mutation. Her pleased face also kept this idea afloat in his mind; many people only seemed pleased at something going wrong when they were somewhat involved, at least most of the time. Mettaliar waited with a hopeful mind as the woman stepped about the length of his body before requesting him to give the mutation another try. He smirked a bit, almost expecting his mutations to work at this point, at least he hoped.

His wish came true but with surprise. The sight and feel of the wooden block forming caught him off guard, the weight throwing him ever so slightly off and causing a jerk reactions with his arm. With a loud "Gah!" the small block flew downward and landed on his foot. The shot of pain was quick and short but completely noticeable. Mettaliar picked his foot up slightly before setting it back down, trying to act like what just happened never actually happened. He looked up to Gemma, not sure what facial expression to expect from her. To calm things down, Mettaliar smiled and chuckled at himself.

"Well, at least I know what the cause was." He laughed a bit more as the pain faded away, taking the moment to make a small metal bar. "And I can create this. If I may ask, what potential powers do you have, Ms. Taylor?" His smile was kept on, welcoming and interested in the answer ahead; he could guess what it was, but he wanted to know it in full, just in case there was something more he should know.

>>"Well, at least I know what the cause was. And I can create this. If I may ask, what potential powers do you have, Ms. Taylor?"

Gemma chuckled as he sturggled with his newl regained powers; it was really an interesting ability, creating things out of thin air. Even though he looked a bit confused, he also seemed to relax now that he got a hint about why his powers did not work before.

"I have an aura that nullifies mutant powers" she explained, walking closer again to let him feel when his ability disappeared "I ti snot really a mutation itself, but something very similar. It has its advantages" she smiled "I usually use it to help mutants who have problems controlling their abilities. I have been thinking about helping some of the X-tem in training to teach them how to act when they meet someone like me..." she glanced arund the Danger Room "I just did not hav the time to actually come down here for training... so, now, here I am."