Christopher Philip Summers | Marvel Boy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
marvel_boy) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nextgenerationmarvel2012-04-19 08:16 pm
marvel_boy) wrote in nextgenerationmarvel2012-04-19 08:16 pm
Let's Get Physical! (Just not like that.) [Open to X-Students and X-Faculty!]
“Alright, Animus. It’s just you and me,” Christopher Philip Summers said to his evil psionic demon twin-thing. (He really wasn’t sure how to describe it – just that it tended to explode out of his body whenever he had overloaded on negative energy and hadn’t released any of it.)
The shadowy blue-black figure leered back at Christopher, its stark white teeth bright against the bruised colouring of its lips.
Topher narrowed his eyes. He took up a fighting stance that he’d learned from Wolverine, and shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, making it easier for him to move in case Animus tried to do anything bad. Which he already had, considering all of the unconscious bodies of his teammates around him.
Animus rushed him. Topher moved to intercept the psionic being, suck in all of that negative energy back into himself. He outstretched his hands and...everything went black.
Topher blinked and looked up at the ceiling. The lights flickered once, and then twice, and then he heard an odd whirring sound. “Great,” he said to no one but himself. “The Danger Room’s on the fritz.” This, normally, would be a bad thing, but technically, Topher wasn't supposed to be down here, unsupervised. He'd used his father's passcodes to access the Danger Room while everyone else was at lunch.
Topher turned around and walked towards the exit doors, which had slid open on their own. As soon as he was outside of the Danger Room, he ripped off his hoodie and walked up the steps towards the control room, his sneakers padding softly on the ground. He was no tech genius, but maybe he could call someone to help him figure out what was going on.
Or, y’know, not.
One of the consoles was smoking. Topher groaned. Not only was he most definitely in trouble now, but it looked like he was going to have to do expend his energy the old-fashioned way. With a punching bag.
He turned on his heel to go towards the gym, grumbling to himself. As he stepped into the elevator to take him onto another level of the lower levels of the compound, he caught his reflection in one of the mirrors that lined the walls. A sad, grumbly face stared back at him. His eyes widened for a moment before he forced a smile onto his face. No sadness, no negativity for him. That way led to trouble. That way possibly led to Animus. He didn’t want that.
The doors gently swooshed open and Topher stepped out onto the next level of the underground compound. Eight steps to the left and he was in the gym, ready to take some energy out on a punching bag.
The shadowy blue-black figure leered back at Christopher, its stark white teeth bright against the bruised colouring of its lips.
Topher narrowed his eyes. He took up a fighting stance that he’d learned from Wolverine, and shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, making it easier for him to move in case Animus tried to do anything bad. Which he already had, considering all of the unconscious bodies of his teammates around him.
Animus rushed him. Topher moved to intercept the psionic being, suck in all of that negative energy back into himself. He outstretched his hands and...everything went black.
Topher blinked and looked up at the ceiling. The lights flickered once, and then twice, and then he heard an odd whirring sound. “Great,” he said to no one but himself. “The Danger Room’s on the fritz.” This, normally, would be a bad thing, but technically, Topher wasn't supposed to be down here, unsupervised. He'd used his father's passcodes to access the Danger Room while everyone else was at lunch.
Topher turned around and walked towards the exit doors, which had slid open on their own. As soon as he was outside of the Danger Room, he ripped off his hoodie and walked up the steps towards the control room, his sneakers padding softly on the ground. He was no tech genius, but maybe he could call someone to help him figure out what was going on.
Or, y’know, not.
One of the consoles was smoking. Topher groaned. Not only was he most definitely in trouble now, but it looked like he was going to have to do expend his energy the old-fashioned way. With a punching bag.
He turned on his heel to go towards the gym, grumbling to himself. As he stepped into the elevator to take him onto another level of the lower levels of the compound, he caught his reflection in one of the mirrors that lined the walls. A sad, grumbly face stared back at him. His eyes widened for a moment before he forced a smile onto his face. No sadness, no negativity for him. That way led to trouble. That way possibly led to Animus. He didn’t want that.
The doors gently swooshed open and Topher stepped out onto the next level of the underground compound. Eight steps to the left and he was in the gym, ready to take some energy out on a punching bag.
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