The sudden wind took Slate by surprise. Not because there was no warning: there was certainly enough of that. Perhaps he had not believed, up until that moment, that Zephyr truly had forgotten how to use his abilities. The wind blast went wide: it was all Slate could do to keep his feet.

His grip on the gun slipped. He fumbled to catch—

>> Watch out, she's com—

The woman made a noise low in her throat; not quite a hiss, and not quite a growl. She kicked off towards the chandelier; a midpoint on her way to eviscerating the amnesiac aeromancer.

--Slate dropped the gun.

>> --ing.

The woman landed on the chandelier. The ray gun fired. The blast of energy was blinding: it reflected in the marble floors and the mirrored ceiling, shooting upwards. (Slate took this time to fall on his behind: it seemed a safe course of action to take.)

Half of the chandelier disappeared. The woman was on the other half. Suffice it to say that her momentum was broken: her claws dug in as, her eyes wide and stunned white, the chandelier came crashed to the floor. She was on the wrong side when it landed.

There was a groan, but it was not a particularly healthy one.

Slate tentatively picked back up the gun, and got to his feet.

He had planned that. Yes.

Technically, Tyler did not shoot anyone. To tell the truth, even if he did, Jewel was waaaay past caring. Still better than... the other option.

The chandelier landed on the woman, and the half of it was still heavy enough to keep her on the floor. Not to mention her injuries. She made sounds that were even less pleasant than the ones she made before.
A rain of shattered glass fell in the wake of the shot; the other guard, who ducked for cover, emerged again, growling curses in various non-existent languages.
Jewel made sure Tyler got back on his feet and had a safe grip on the gun before turning towards the man. The whirlwind was back, sliding pieces of glass away from him on the floor, hissing in a more menacing way. It annoyed the hell out of Jewel, but she made sure her face and posture didn't show that.
Now we talk.

"Step aside and let us walk away."

It came out as a low growl. Whoa. A male body had certain advantages she did not consider before.
Somewhere in the movie-educated part of her brain she wanted to add 'I will not ask again.' but she was pretty sure she would.

>> "Step aside and let us walk away."

For once, Slate was grateful to hear Zephyr’s imperious voice. Though somewhat less eloquent than typical, the directness of that particularly sentence seemed appropriate, given their current situation.

“There’s no one here to tell your employers what transpired,” the Kabal’s Leader added. “You’re not letting us walk out: you fought well, but you were outnumbered. That is all.”

Slate took a delicate step towards Zephyr’s side, holding the gun a bit too tightly and unprofessionally for anyone’s comfort, though generally in the direction of their tailed foe. Again: perhaps, in the current situation, that was for the best. Really, what was more frightening: a trained professional, or a teenager liable to fire an adamantium-cutting raygun on accident?

There was a moment slightly longer that eternity as the guard glared at them wit mixed emotions - one of them obviously anger. Jewel realized she stopped breathing seconds ago; fortunately, when time stands still, you usually don't need to. Also, she had a chance to evaluate the situation. If the guy decides to fight... she was not great at planning. Not in a fight, anyway.
She wondered if Tyler could fire that gun on purpose, if he needed.
Centuries later, the clock started ticking again, and the guard stepped aside. He didn't comment. But at least their way out was free.
She started moving hesitantly, keeping her eyes on the guard. He did nothing. She walked towards the door, making sure Tyler followed, and let him step out first, still watching Tiger-tail until the door closed behind them.
It was surprisingly simple and easy.
They made it out alive.
She just hoped the adrenaline would last till they got back to the car. She doubted she could keep Zephyr's body standing without it.

Back in the hotel, Blinky smirked as she leaned against the doorframe.
"You know, sweetie, if I didn't know you I'd say you had the hots for the guy."
Creepy walked the guard away from the door, rolled her eyes, and didn't anwer.

The raygun went into the trunk. Slate got into the driver’s side, and sat down. Pulled his seatbelt across his chest, and clicked it shut.

Then he stared, for a very long moment, out through the windshield.

“Well,” he said, “we appear to have survived.” Something in his voice was, perhaps, surprised by this fact. Amazing that the man had actually stood aside for them—the entire way out the door, Slate had felt as if he would be pounced upon at any moment, using whatever ability the man was hiding. But he wasn’t, nor was Zephyr. Even now, he felt like he would look towards the hotel entrance, and see the man looking back with some sinister smile on his face. But—(and Slate took a moment to reassure himself of this fact)—the man was not there.

They had survived. Apparently. Slate’s shoulders shook for a moment with silent laughter. He looked over towards his fellow blue-eyed teenager, with a grin.

“Shall we get the Hell out of here?”

The Kabal’s Leader had been told that, in certain circumstances, swearing quite enhanced a sentence. This was his first time testing it out. The results were quite satisfactory to his ears.

“Shall we get the Hell out of here?”

"Yes please." it was very polite, very simple, and sounded curiously like a whole string of swearwords crammed together.
Jewel let out a sigh and sat back as they drove off towards... wherever-that-does-not-really-matter-as-long-as-it-is-as-far-away-from-here-as-possible. She was utterly surprised they got out alone, and somewhere in the back of her mind more than a little bit suspicious about the ending. True, she had Zephyr's body and powers and probably reputation and all, but still, she didn't feel herself nearly menacing enough to make the guard step aside.
She glanced at Tyler (or whatever his name was, actually), and images of their adventure kept flashing through her mind. As the andrenaline left her body, all that remained was a slight shaking of ehr hands, and a lot of visual and emotional information to deal with. She ran a hand across her hair, and let out the breath she was holding.
"Tyler. Don't. Ever. Make. Me. Do. This. Again."

>> "Yes please."

Slate needed no more incentive than that to put the Ferrari into reverse and—somewhat more rapidly than was generally advised—vacate the parking lot. Outside, he merged into traffic ruthlessly, and began to haphazardly jostle lane positions to get them farther away, even in the congested city traffic: in other words, he drove like a normal New Yorker.

>> "Tyler. Don't. Ever. Make. Me. Do. This. Again."

Slate’s shoulders shook silently for a moment. He couldn’t quite help what came next: he laughed. (This moment of inattention allowed a taxi cab to cut them off.)

“You really are different, Zephyr,” he said. Normally, the mercenary seemed all too bored with life, and all things in it: the idea that something could be too much excitement for his blood... Slate grinned. (And slammed on the brakes, as another cabbie swerved in front of them.)

“What precisely happened to you?” He asked. A topic which, perhaps, was somewhat overdue.

“What precisely happened to you?”
'Overdue' is an understatement. Jewel was expecting the moment when Tyler asked something along those lines, but she didn't really have the chance to prepare any kind of answer.
When in doubt, tell the truth.
Where the heck did that come from?...
She took a deep breath (which was somewhat interrupted by the safety belt when Tyler hit the brakes).

"Don't be mad at me, please..."
Crappy start. Never mind, keep going.
"...but I'm not Zephyr at all."

Now that the hard part was over, words just kept flowing. She hoped she would get to the end of the explanation before her new boss did something really ugly to her.
"... I mean, the body is his, but he's not in it, because I am. I'm a mutant too, but with different powers, and I don' usually go around snatching other people's bodies... hell I'm not even a guy. My name is..." uh this is gonna sound weird from Zephyr's lips "... Lily - nice to meet you, by the way - and I go to a school for mutants, and this morning I woke up like this, and I have no idea what happened, and I had no intention to lie to you, but things just happened too quick. Um. So. I'm sorry. And please believe me, I know it sounds weird, but I'm telling the truth."
And now all that was left to do was to wait for Tyler's answer and hope she didn't cause a major car accident with the speech.

>> "Don't be mad at me, please..."

The light was turning yellow as Zephyr began to speak. Slate contemplated running it, but slammed on the brakes as an aggressive old woman with a walker decided she was crossing. Now.

>> "...but I'm not Zephyr at all."

...

>> "... I mean, the body is his, but he's not in it, because I am. I'm a mutant too, but with different powers, and I don' usually go around snatching other people's bodies... hell I'm not even a guy. My name is..."

... ...

>> "... Lily”

The light turned green again. Slate did not seem to notice. He was staring directly ahead, his hands on the wheel.

>> “- nice to meet you, by the way - and I go to a school for mutants, and this morning I woke up like this, and I have no idea what happened, and I had no intention to lie to you, but things just happened too quick. Um. So. I'm sorry. And please believe me, I know it sounds weird, but I'm telling the truth."

As a symphony of car horns sounded behind him, the blue eyed teenager asked the only question one possibly can ask, when one’s employee reveals himself to be a herself. Named Lily.

“You are joking, right?”

He had a very bad feeling, however, in that regard. It was something of a Catch-22. For Zephyr to be joking, this would have to be Zephyr. For this to be Zephyr, he would have to be lacking a sense of humor. If he was lacking a sense of humor, then—

Then Slate had just dragged a Mansion student along to pick up his ray gun. From an illegal auction. Hosted by mutant supremacists. Which had descended into violence. And nearly gotten ‘her’—and himself—killed.

And her name was Lily.

“You are joking, right?”
Jewel ever so slowly shook her head. Her emotions put a very sad expression on Zephyr's face.
"I wish I was."
Tyler forgot about the traffic, the car, and everything else. Jewel winced as a particularly pissed off driver maneuvered his car around theirs, honking like crazy and yelling something about their mother on the way. Well, Tyler's mother. He was the one behind the wheel.
Jewel took a deep breath.
"Um. Maybe we should... you know. Go someplace where we can just... talk about this...?"
She really wished the answer would be yes. The other option - two options, actually - were much less inviting. One was to stay here and keep staring at each other for all eternity (or at least till someone out there in the sane world does something about the Ferrari in the middle of the road), the other one was to settle things right here and right now, which would only give Jewel a passive role in being severely punished for lying to the leader of the Kabal and then scraped off the surface of the road, CSI style.
She took a deep breath, as another car's honking jerked her back into reality.
She really wished the answer would be yes.

>> "I wish I was."

Frowny face Zephyr was a sight not often seen. Idly, Slate wondered if it would inhabit the realm of his nightmares.

>> "Um. Maybe we should... you know. Go someplace where we can just... talk about this...?"

The ode to his mother, and the many other colorful exclamations being slammed into wheels and shouting with shaking fist accompaniment—or more dexterous positioning of fingers—began to filter back in to Slate’s world.

“Yes,” he agreed. Then once more, for good measure. “Yes. That would be... advisable. Would you be comfortable in returning to Mondragon Labs with me? I could take you to your school, but...” He looked over at the feminine soul in her distinctly mismatched shell.

Additionally, he had a ray gun in the trunk. The Mansion had many curious students best left unaware of that fact.

If Zep—if Lily agreed, they would soon be driving towards Queens, and the wide expanse of the Labs.

“Yes. That would be... advisable. Would you be comfortable in returning to Mondragon Labs with me? I could take you to your school, but...”
"... but they wouldn't let you in. Probably me neither. At least, not without a long explanation." she nodded, much (much) relieved that Tyler (or whatever his name was) did not seem to be particularly angry with her. Being alive is always a good sign.
"I don't have any other choice but to trust you."
That was only half true. Even if she had a whole series of other choices, she probably would have trusted him anyway. She was just that kind of person.
"... and trust that a place where people can put one of those together" she continued, nodding towards the trunk that contained the ray gun "has someone who can get me back into my original body." she continued on, not really talking to him only thinking out loud "And get you your real mercenary back, body and soul."
A small smirk found its was to her lips, and she had no idea where it came from, so she just blamed it on Zephyr.
"No offense, but I prefer being a girl."

>> "... but they wouldn't let you in. Probably me neither. At least, not without a long explanation."

Slate winced, for more reasons than one. Yes. Yes, combine the current situation with Calley’s recent mauling of an X-Man—and the minor fact that most people at the Mansion did not know that he and Calley were different people—and ‘long explanation’ about summed things up.

>> "I don't have any other choice but to trust you.”

He would like to be trustworthy in his own right, but he was quite willing to settle for that.

>> “... and trust that a place where people can put one of those together has someone who can get me back into my original body. And get you your real mercenary back, body and soul. ...No offense, but I prefer being a girl."

“A pity.” Slate’s own lips twitched, just slightly. “I prefer you being Zephyr.”

((ooc: Continued in Bodysnatchers for dummies.)