Kasumi stared at the tan-skinned woman once more. She introduced herself, though she gave a codename, Kasumi wasn't sure she could adhere to that name, instead she nodded softly,
"Nice to meet you, ma'am.." She replied briefly, though frowned a little, the thought of being kept away from such an amazing amount of technology was sort of like giving a child a closed box and telling them they could not open it until the right time, but the term techno-path caught her interest,
"Technopath..?" The girl questioned curiously, "Is that.. The term for what I am?" She seemed to look around, away for storm as if trying to recall something, her face still a frown until she hit upon the word, "Technopath, a person capable of controlling technology at will through physical or mental links, sometimes capable of bringing inanimate household objects, particularly electrical appliances, to life, sometimes said to be able to understand technology on a personal level, as though communicating with it." She spoke it almost as if reading from a textbook, "That is not the complete scope of my abilities. It is the most accurate.. Technopath.." She repeated to herself as she thought about it. Unlike many mutants, puberty was not the point of life for Kasumi's powers to manifest, she'd known about them from a much younger age,
"Whether or not I stay is not really a matter of choice," Kasumi added calmly, almost determinedly, "I need not even consider the options. The only logical conclusion is to stay where it is safe, or risk further harm to myself, or worse, my family."

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Logan had been calmly working on the said bike for a little while, it had taken quite a few years to restore an old model like this but it had been worth it. A few small aftermarket tweaks, a few bits of careful jury-rigging and constant maintenance had it running better than new. He needed a hobby, after all. He had his back to the girls, or at least, the girl who had started talking about the bike, whilst he was calmly cleaning the seat and softly polishing the chassis beneath it,
"Not a bad spot, kid.. You like bikes, kid?" He questioned, switching the cigar in his mouth to the other side, he hadn't lit it yet, didn't want the flammable cleaning materials lighting up in his hands while he worked. The man sniffed the air a little as he focused on a point, running gentle circles over a smudged area, until it shined, "Don't recognize your voice, or your scent, you're new." He stated thoughtfully, "You, and the other one you just left behind," the man added, standing up and cracking his neck either way, hands on his hips, still gripping the cloth and canister of polish, "What's your thing? Eye beams? Mind-bending? Ice breath?" He sniffed at the air again, frowning a little, the smell of sulfur was coming from somewhere, the smell of burning grass.. "Well.. That sure as hell ain't you, kid.." He spoke out loud to himself, dropping the can and cloth in a bucket next to his bike as he put his hands into his pockets, following the scent of the sulfur, best to see if one of the kids was doing something stupid or not.