Isabel was getting more tired and sore by the minute, now running primarily on the adrenaline rush that was coursing through her battered and bruised body. After this ordeal was over, she didn't even know if she'd be able to drag herself to see that woman Gwendolyn in the infirmary. She was growing increasingly frustrated with the man's wriggling beneath her hands. Any and all blood that was drawn by her fingernails was making it increasingly difficult to keep a good grip on the worm, and it didn't help that he kept trying to brain her with his boots. Why can't people just sit still while you're trying to crush their windpipes? It would make everything so much easier for Isabel. But just so long as she could keep a hold on him and avoid getting herself shocked a second time, she would be able to cope well enough. That reminded her. The remote. It would look so much nicer in her own hands. Preferable broken into teeny tiny bits and pieces. And so while one hand grappled to get a firm hold on James' neck, the other bloody and broken hand reached to try and get a grip on the remote.

And then there was a boot coming at her face. Again. Honestly, didn't this man have any better way of fighting? Instinctively she moved her face back away from the rubber sole that was aimed at her. Isabel didn't need to be walking around with a busted nose like James had. Unfortunately, in moving in the fashion that she had to cause the boot's missing her face, the heel of the man's boot came down sharply on her collar bone. The first thing she was aware of was her sudden inability to draw in a breath. Her eyes went wide and her mouth hung open. She was aware of her muscles trying to move themselves, but her lungs didn't want to respond just yet. The next thing she was aware of was a sharp, shooting pain where the boot had struck, which immediately brought tears to her eyes and caused her grip to loosen. It felt like he'd broken the bone, though since she hadn't heard any loud cracks, she was unsure if it had simply been severely bruised or not. All she could do for a moment was just stare at the man in her grip, an expression that was a mixture of pain, surprise ad anger sitting on her face.

When finally a sharp intake of breath did enter her lungs, both painful and relieving at the same time, she was once again on the move. She tightened her tired grip as much as she could, and shifted further up on her keen, trying to give her an advantage of height compared to the worm that was seated before her. Giving up on the remote for a moment, she pulled her arm back and aimed another punch at Jame's nose. Maybe she could smash his bone and cartilage up into his brain. It would make such a nice red mess, and it would certainly be an improvement on the cretin's facial structure. But she was getting so damn tired. As much as she wanted to beat this man to a pulp, another part of her just wanted to curl up somewhere quiet and dark and just drift off to sleep where her pain could be ignored and numbed for even just a short while. Mentally she promised herself at least a halfway decent rest once she got to the camp infirmary. Whether or not that promise would be kept was totally up in the air. For now, she just needed to make it out of this mess conscious.

Well it seemed some mutants were a lot more resilient and bull headed then others. Then again, the more animal like ones had certainly proven that. dogs and cats

The struggle with her hands clawing and trying to squish his neck was getting old. A little scary too but he could think of that part of tables turning scary later. One really good thing did happen though. The girl avoided getting a boot to the face, in James’s oddly flexible pose and kick, but she did manage to get stomped in the collar bone. That felt real good to do too as he forced her to back off a bit.

Blinking past the bloody nose she had giving him, (Great, just what he needed to be walking around with.) he saw her coming back to place another punch. His arm shot up, to block the movement of hers and ram the side of his wrist into the inside of her elbow, and old training kicked in. His hand flattened, fingers stiff, to slide up her arm so that the edge of tight stiff fingers would hopefully make a solid impact with the side of Isabel’s neck. Under her chin. His other hand made a fist, and from his lower position, he aimed to return the favor of the bloody nose.

Well, Isabel's silent protest against James' originally singular mode of attack had certainly been heard by some kind of malicious higher power and had somehow inspired the man to change his tactics. Just great. Thank you, Malicious Higher Power, hope you're getting a good laugh out of the situation. Isabel gave in irritated little huff as her wrist was caught, preventing her from smashing the man's nose in, her arm then forced to bend in toward herself as another blow stuck the inside of elbow. That little move was somehow enough to momentarily throw her off balance, causing her to wobble on her knees, the young mutant only hoping that she could avoid falling on top of this man. She wanted to limit her contact with him as much as possible. If she could get away with causing a satisfying amount of injuries with just her hands, she'd do it. The thought of any more of her body coming in contact with the guard's was very nearly nauseating.

She'd barely had any time to recover her balance when the man struck at her again. Where on earth had this sudden spurt of speed and efficiency come from? Isabel didn't like it one little bit. Especially since she was once again unable to draw in a breath. His attack had landed right on target, making contact with the side if her neck just below her chin, painfully managing to strike her windpipe, an utterly dumbstruck expression held on her face as she momentarily tried to focus on pushing the pain away just enough to allow her to breathe. And just as she was able to take in that first painful gulp of air, she was hit again, the pain spreading across the bridge of her nose and one of her cheekbones, just below her eye. Her eyes teared up again and a pained little whimper escaped from between her lips, which she immediately hated herself for. It didn't feel like anything had been broken, but there was a sudden taste of blood on her tongue as a thin trickle of the red liquid dripped onto her lower lip from her nose. What a lovely bruise that would make.

Biting her lower lip, partially in contemplation, but mostly to keep any more blood from getting in her mouth, she focused back on James before slumping back onto the floor and relinquishing her grip on the man, a faint trace of a pout on her face. She was losing, badly, and she knew it, too. She could only take so much more of this treatment before she was either shocked or bled into unconsciousness. It was best she just let it go and dragged her sorry butt to the Infirmary to get patched up. "Alright, alright. I give," she rasped, already setting back into sulk mode. She positively hated losing. Especially to a human, a creature she normally dispatched so very easily. It hurt her pride more than it hurt her body. Bumps and bruises faded a lot faster than any injuries to this girl's ego. But, just so long as she managed to keep herself alive, then perhaps she could find a way to mend it. But for now, she just pouted childishly, as was her way of dealing with not getting her own way. Now, if only she could find her way out of this unfavorable position.

A smirk slid across the corner of James’s face as each one of those ingrained moves made contact. He sat up with one eye brow raised higher than the other, giving the rest of his face a much more sinister look. His left hand came up wiping under his nose with his sleeve as his other snatched up the remote. Some how his smirk had shifted into a toothy grin with the lower lip trapped between upper and lower sets of teeth. He pointed the device straight at Isobel. Feeling that temptation to just let her have it full force. No breaks or anything. She’d said something, hadn’t she? He reran the last few seconds through his mind.

"Alright, alright. I give,"

“Sure ya’ do Luv.”

There were some faces that just didn’t look right when their eyes twinkled. James’s face was one of those. He just beat up two of the camps younger girls and he found some twisted pride in that. Girls weren’t always all that helpless. Just as James’s younger self about the girl scouts. And these were mutants he was dealing with at that.

His finger twitched just above the button on the remote as the regulations about what to do with troublesome mutants ran through his head. Isolation, Right? Well if the higher ups remembered then fine, she could spend some time in isolations. At the moment regulation and mutant rights acts required something else. “You should report to the infirmary.”

Isabel cringed at the sight of James' grin. It was such an ugly expression on the man's face. The remote being pointed at her wasn't exactly encouraging, either. She really didn't want that pink button to be pressed again. She honestly didn't know if she'd be able to stay conscious through another one of those electrocutions, and there was no way she'd pass out in the present company without one hell of a fight. That one hell of a fight possibly no longer within her reach. She didn't trust this guy farther than she could throw him. And that wasn't very far at all. And so for now she shifted back into playing the role of the good little girl that didn't cause any immediate trouble. She so badly wanted to wipe the smirk off the man's face, and perhaps take his lips with it, but in her current condition, and with that remote in her face, it was much easier than usual to repress that urge and to simply stay seated where she was, trying to keep the look of disgust off her face as she looked up at James.

A gag rose in her throat at the little pet name that escaped the man's lips. She could handle the crude verbal abuse from the guards, but for some reason sweet little nicknames were always the worst, and they always made a shiver run up Isabel's spine. Something just wasn't right about these people using those kind of names. Her good hand curled into a fist at the sight of the twitching finger that hung above that dangerous little button, not expecting the man to hesitate, or even to back off completely. It's sad that any kind of pleasant surprise that popped up around the camps came in the form of escaping further abuse. At the mention of the Infirmary, only suspicions rose within the young mutant's thoughts. Was he just baiting her, or did he really mean it? Isabel was well aware of her painful state of health, but she still didn't want to have to scoot past James in order to reach the door and seek the medical attention she needed. But, with the barracks holding at least a small group of other women who weren't willing to be pushed around so easily, there was a good chance Isabel could get away without any further injury.

Shakily she managed to get herself to her feet, pausing with a wince every time something was jolted a bit too sharply and a painful sting shot through her. The way things were going, it seemed as if just moving regularly wouldn't be much of an option for a while. And her hand was a complete disaster, which would hinder any physical labor for a long time. Slowly straightening her posture, and biting her tongue to try and at least reduce the visibility of her occasional pained expressions, Isabel let her gaze drift between James and the door. Cautiously, but at the same time managing to keep some scrap of defiance, she slowly skirted around the man and past the other women to slip out the door and go on her way to the Infirmary.