No. Thank you.

It was clearly too late for that. Jewel sat back with a sigh.

Well, at least Blinky doesn't want it anymore. And it's worth the money you paid for it, trust me.

Finally, after a time that seemed like the better half of eternity - especially because now she had to exchange casual glances with both women on his sides, and that made her wonder how in the world guys do that every day without breaking a sweat -... it was time for the gun. She'd never thought she'd see a deadly weapon as the light at the end of a dark and nasty tunnel.
It can't get worse now.
She heard Blinky chuckle at them, and she had to admit she would have reacted the same way... up until the day before. On the other hand, she wasn't sure she wanted Tyler to answer that particular question.
A second thought started forming in her head; Tyler just bought a royal treasure, and now a super high-tech weapon. Just how much money does this kid have?...
Then again, she wasn't sure she wanted to know that answer either.
Almost over, almost over, almost over.
Just what the heck is beer pong anyway?...

>> Just what the heck is beer pong anyway?...

...I believe it is a drinking game, involving cups of alcohol and a ping pong ball. Slate explained, with a certain lack of certainty. Drinking games. He was... not an expert upon them. The name was somewhat descriptive in this case, however.

His hand settled on the chair arm again, as the auctioneer began the final call. That had not been as expensive as he’d feared, truth be told. The gun’s ability to be used for anything outside of ‘overkill’, perhaps, made it less in demand. Versatility: something an adamantium-melting ray gun somewhat lacked.

They were nearly done here. After the purchase was complete, all they had to do was disentangle themselves from their feminine companions—preferably without purchasing any more items of jewelry—set up a delivery point, and leave.

“Sold—!”

And that is when things got worse.

The doors to the auction room slammed open in a wash of careless flame that sent audience members scattering for safety and tossing up shields of various colors and clarity. A moment later, a mutant with a hundred eyes limply shut in unconsciousness was tossed onto the floor: the guard they’d seen out in the hallway.

The woman in the middle watched with an annoyed scowl. “Are those...?”

Blinky turned around in her seat, and winced. “The XX-Women. Yeah.”

The spandex-clad team stormed in, their eyes casting around disapprovingly. Their leader carried a fireball in her hand, her red eyes fierce. The sea of assembled villains stared back, with an assortment of facial ticks, curses, and groans.

The good girls had arrived.

Almost over, almost over, almost over.
Jewel was vaguely aware of things like Tyler's explanation of beer pong (she probably was the only person on the planet who got throug her teenage years without playing any drinking game), the auction and the gun itself, and the three women doing their quiet little games of flirting and exchanging glances. She sat back, letting her senses flow and waiting patiently for the nightmare to be over. Once they get out of here she will tell Tyler about her "amnesia", and she will get home, and back to her own body, and everything will turn outjust fi...
Bang.
Of course not.

The first reaction of the elegant young man named Zephyr was a surprised and very feminine yelp and a jump. It was the sound (and move) someone would make when she'd almost made herself believe that the wore part was over, and bidding for weapons of mass destruciton does not necessarily mean getting into a fight in a room full of mutants.
And it was loud too.
Sneaky looked at him and made a snort; Jewel couldn't really blame her for it, imagining how she must have looked as a man. A mercenary, none the less. Fighting back a wave of panic was all she could do, as various pieces of clothing and the curtains nearby were lifted by a sudden movement of wind in the room as Zephyr's powers reacted to her fright.
"The XX-Women."Turning around to look at Tyler, she tried her best to look calm and confident, and managed to do so, minus eyes widened in confusion. Her main thought was something like "Who the hell are those women?!" but the one she meant for Tyler to hear was "What do we do now?"
If anyone can get them out of this room, it was him. Hopefully.

Slate’s answer was immediate, and simple. Perhaps not the most well-thought-out plan, but one appropriate to the suddenly volatile environment. There was no telling what would happen next: not with the goodies striking spandex poses of violence, and the baddies quite willing to put them in their place. One course of action immediately entered his mind, and stayed there.

>> What do we do now?

We take the raygun, the Kabal’s Leader very intelligently proposed, and run.

"We take the raygun, and run."

Amen, brother.
As far as plans go, this was as good as any, given the circumtances. Besides, Jewel still had issues with her instincitve trust in weird Kabal leaders whom she'd just met. Trusting people was her basic nature. And at least Tyler was not freaking out.
The carefully planned aliases worked out pretty well - none of the three ladies were expecting protection from the 'frat boys'. They were already standing, getting ready to do whatever they planned for situatons like this. Because other mutants were blocking the way on both sides, Jewel unceremoniously jumped over the next row of chairs - "Excuse us, ladies" - , and hurried to find the shortest way to the gun, hopingTyler was following. Zephy'r body was stronger than hers, and this time the difference was to his advantage; both running and jumping came easier, not to mention pushing people aside...
You take the gun, I'll cover for you. We need to find anoher exit.
It sounded well practiced and logical. The real reason, however sounded more like 'There is no way in hell I'm touching that thing'. She thought for a second about what the X ladies would do if they see someone holding that weapon, but she decided not to follow that train of thought any further.
Just don't shoot anyone, please.
Going out the main door was out of the question - the ladies made sure that no one left that way. Jewel could only hope they didn't have enough team members to cover all the exits. Another thought flashed through her mind as she looked around at the chaos in the hall:
Would be nice to know what my abilities are...

The blue-eyed teenager followed his amnesiac employee towards the front, running in Zephyr’s wake. If nothing else, the regular training he’d been doing with the Labs staff had left him with enough stamina to jump a few chairs.

Electric light flashed behind them; a static charge set the hair on the back of his neck on edge. Blinky was crackling energy as she and the other two women joined the line of baddies jostling to put the superheroes in their place. This, most assuredly, could only turn out well.

Yes.

Slate kept running.

>> You take the gun, I'll cover for you. We need to find anoher exit.

There should be one up here, Slate replied, as he vaulted onto the stage. Stairs were for those with slightly more time, and an inclination to be caught in pointless fights. It has to connect to the hall where the items were displayed; they had to bring things in somehow, without walking through the audience. Unless they had a teleporter hiding behind the stage curtains. Slate sincerely hoped they did not have a teleporter hiding behind the stage curtains.

The auctioneer seemed long gone; he wasn’t paid for brawls. Slate wrapped his arms around the ray gun, lifting it from the display table. It was really quite a bit heavier than it looked—

>> Just don't shoot anyone, please.

The teenager gave a deadpan stare to his acquaintance. I am not going to—

Slate dropped the gun.

It went off, with a fantastic burst of solid light. The beam sped over the heads of the people still in the room, and exploded against the ceiling above the posing superheroes.

Aforementioned ceiling section proceeded to drop down upon their heads. Granted that one of them threw up some kind of energy shield in time, but it was safe to say that the boys on the stage had their attention.

“Whoot!” Blinky cheered, mistaking Slate’s shock for some kind of camaraderie. “I knew I liked you two!”

The XX-Women were less pleased. “You dare—!” one of them, a girl about Zephyr and Slate’s age, but with quite a few more tentacles, began to say.

“You dare attack your teammates,” Creepy ordered, with something close to a yawn.

The squid girl blinked once, then promptly sucked herself on to her fiery leader’s face.

The exit, Slate mildly noted, as this distraction ensued, appears to be right there. He picked up the gun—with a distinctly more solid grip—and nodded his head to an open doorway on the far side of the stage. A promising direction to go.

Jewel kept her eyes on the attackers, in case they kept their eyes on people around the ray gun. Any eyes. They had a few extra. Fortunately, they seemed to be more occupied with the mutants closer to them (and there were a few extra of those too) - apparently even they didn't expect so many bad guys in one place. Careful pnanning, girls.
Tyler had the ray gun. So far, so good. The only thing left was to...
BAM.
The ray of light roared past Jewel with mere inches, knocking her over, which - however it hurt - was a good thing, probably the only that saved her a great deal of explaining to do when she finds the original owner of Zephy's body. Explanations to questions like 'Now where did my left side go?...'
The ceiling collapsed on the girls. Blinky cheered. The infamous trio seemed to be enjoying the fight, and quite skilled at it too. Even though Jewel had growing suspicions about who should be considered 'good' and 'bad' in this situation, she was honestly happy with how things stood down there with the girl power. She'll worry about ethics later.
Right now, the thing to do was yell at Tyler. She meant it as mind talk, but somehow it leaked out.
"What the f*ck... ?!"
Scrambling to his feet, she was glad she didn't feel more pain that the fall could cause, which meant she still had a chance of survival. She wondered how her own body would have done. She got as far as 'not so good', when Tyler pointed out the exit.
That was definitely the way to go. Looking at her current employer, who now seemed to have a more firm grip on the weapon, she nodded towards the door.
"You go ahead."
It wasn't just that he had a weapon, while all she had was a male body and a half-formed whirlwind which seemed to be waiting for being released. it was also the thought that she never wanted to be in shooting range of the ray gun ever again.
Who designed that thing to go off so easily anyway?...

>> "What the f*ck... ?!"

This was an eloquent recounting of recent events. Quite... accurate. Slate cringed slightly in polite acknowledgement.

>> "You go ahead."

“Right,” Slate agreed simply, because he suspected—fairly accurately—that the mercenary did not want the ray gun behind him. For previously demonstrated reasons. Slate hugged the gun more tightly to his chest, and started running again. Though not so fast as to worry about his footing: of that, he was suddenly being very, very careful. Tripping did not seem healthy, somehow.

>> Who designed that thing to go off so easily anyway?...

Doctor Ingram, Slate replied levelly. He is not allowed to design weapons anymore. The Kabal’s Leader left it at that.

The back area was lined with items up for auction next, or those that had just had their turn on the stage. They weren’t the only ones to come this way. A handful of opportunist mutants had snuck back here when the chaos began; Slate spied two of the auction’s guards, unconscious on the floor. A man with a dog tail was wearing the tiara Slate had purchased earlier, and shoving the pockets of his suit full of portable valuables. He froze as the two teenagers burst into the room, then broke into a toothy grin as he saw the ray gun. His tail wagged merrily.

“Nice pick,” he said. “Careful getting out with it—there might still be some guards left.”

“Thanks,” Slate said, and kept running. This seemed an appropriate response to a thief with a dog tail, wearing a tiara.

The back door lead out into the reception hall, now much more barren.

"Doctor Ingram. He is not allowed to design weapons anymore."

That's good to know.
Jewel had no idea whatsoever who that Doctor might be, but she was pretty sure the world was better off without more of his creations. The one in Tyler's hands was the only one she hoped she'll ever know about.
She blinked when they ran past the guy with the tiara. Weirdness.
Well, weirdness is still better than... most things back in the auction hall.
"Um, thanks." she muttered as she ran after Tyler, the image of a showdown between Dog Tail and Blinky flashing through her mind. Poor guy.
The reception hall seemed to be empty. Their steps echoed as they ran to the door. A glimmer of hope presented itself once again, just to be cruelly shattered by another thought:
You think they were really daft enough to leave the entrance unguarded?...
The answer... well, it came as a flash of light.
This time, however, not from Tyler.

>> You think they were really daft enough to leave the entrance unguarded?...

One can hope. One can always hope. Right up until the moment when one’s hopes are dashed in a wash of sharp light, and a blur of movement from a woman whose eyes changed color. Currently, they were a deliriously pleased viridian. It wasn’t often she was allowed to play. Only when someone caused trouble.

Thieves running off without properly paying for their merchandise were causing trouble.

The lightmancer crashed to the floor at Slate and Zephyr’s feet, the woman on his back. Two hands and twelve claws flexed, with catlike playfulness, into his back. The man screamed. Her eyes blinked to a fond yellow as she leaned her head down, and licked the wounds like a mother cat tending to her kittens.

“She only picks one target at a time, you know.” A calm voice said from their right. “One of you might get away. You don’t want to be the one she catches, though.” It was the other guard that had greeted them, when they’d first come in. The one with a purple lion’s tail, and a few extra joints in his limbs. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. At their feet, the lightmancer screamed again. “Put that gun and anything else you’ve stolen down, and walk away before she’s done. I won’t say a thing to her if you do.” It was good advice.

“No,” Slate replied, with a blue-eyed blink.

Jewel blinked; colorful dots and swirls were dancing in front of her eyes, and the world seemed strangely out of focus, like right after being flashed in the face by a camera. Or a mutant.
The next minute her vision cleared, and then she wished it didn't. She stared down at the lightmancer with the woman on his back, and felt his heart sink. There was blood. Not that she was afraid of blood more than any average Southern belle. Actually, it wasn't the blood. It was the scream that made her wish this whole thing would just end as soon as possible.
It did, for the lightmancer. The woman looked up at them. She was like some kind of animal of prey off the leash. Jewel backed away, fighting to stay in control of her reactions. Do not run, gal. You don't stand a chance.

“She only picks one target at a time, you know. One of you might get away. You don’t want to be the one she catches, though.”

You are damn right I don't. Jewel glanced at Tyler But then again I wouldn't be glad if it was him either.
She tried her best not to look at what the woman was currently doing. It included an awful lot of tearing, slashing and crunching.

“Put that gun and anything else you’ve stolen down, and walk away before she’s done. I won’t say a thing to her if you do.”

Good advice, right there. Maybe they could just...

"No."

No?... NO?... Is he insane, or what?!

Anger is a very good thing to have in the place of utter shock and panic. Basic survival instinct. Something a well educated lady seldom experiences at first hand.
Zephyr's body reacted again. Small gushes of wind, hissing like tiny snakes started circling him, sneaking under his suite and into his hair.

Tyler, are you out of your mind?!

>> Tyler, are you out of your mind?!

The little wind zephyrs, the man’s chosen namesake, were uselessly cute.

Can you fathom the damage that this weapon could do? Slate returned. You saw the power in a single shot, by a single weapon. What if someone were to copy its construction? I must bring this back to the labs for proper des—

A very wet CRISHACK sounded from their feet. Slate did not look down.

...destruction, he finished, rather lamely. This is why I required backup. In case of things going horribly wrong. As things seemed to do, with such gleeful regularity. Can’t you... do something? He asked the amnesiac aeromancer, as the grunt’s purple tail swished. He was between them and the exit, and he did not look intimidated by the thought of taking on the both of them before his partner ‘finished’.

...Is your mutation emotionally triggered? I could aggravate you, perhaps.

There was a chandelier overhead: it reflected onto the marble floors below, except in the areas the blood was beginning to spread.

"Can you fathom the damage that this weapon could do?"

The fact that she could made things look even worse. There were so many new and terrible things she could fathom since she woke up this morning...
She looked at the guard at the door. He wasn't downright mental like the woman, but surely he wasn't Mother Teresa either. Jewel's number one solution for stressful situations had always been talking. Making a compromise. Calming people down. Diplomacy.
Shit.

"...Is your mutation emotionally triggered? I could aggravate you, perhaps."

You already are, Tyler, thank you very much. It is not helping.

The hissing grew louder as it wound Zephyr's body in a cocoon of whirlwind. Jewel tried to make a wild guess about what would happen if she unleashes the young mercenary's powers without knowing how to control them. She didn't like the idea. She didn't guess again.

So, why don't you give me a quick summary on how I usually use my powers in combat?

The good thing about psychotic feline murderers is they like to play with their food.

Slate was unclear as to whether the lightmancer was still alive. Certainly, he was still moving—but that might just be a result of what the woman was—

Slate dragged his gaze upwards, again. The man down the hall chuckled under his breath.

>> So, why don't you give me a quick summary on how I usually use my powers in combat?

...From what I have seen, Slate stated, you seem to favor wind ‘blades’, as it were—a sudden directed release of air, with enough force behind it to cut. Slate thought a moment. What else had the air elemental done, on the footage of the Mansion brawl? Ah, he added. You also fly.

As for Slate’s combat abilities? So far he had faced an explosives user, and had his arm blown off. Been caught by a human, and stabbed. Attempted to help an electricity mancer, and been killed.

...He knew how to do a backward fall in Judo without hurting himself. He was still working on forward falls.

I suppose I could just shoot them both, Slate stated, less than ideally.

It was at that moment that the woman sat back. She batted the man under her with her hand; he didn’t move. Her eyes flicked the light purple of a little girl whose second-favorite toy has broken.

She looked up at them. Her eyes blinked to hopeful blue. “Do you mind?” She asked over her shoulder, to the man.

“Be my guest,” he replied, with a gracious sweep of his hand.

She turned back towards them. Her eyes blinked to black.

"...you seem to favor wind ‘blades’, as it were—a sudden directed release of air, with enough force behind it to cut."

Jewel had a hard time believing that. Wind strong enough to cut?... Well, whatever. At least it sounds like something useful. If they were in the danger room, she could test the idea, see how manageable it is. Maybe she could do target practice.
Unfortunately, they were not in the danger room. They were in danger, period.

"You also fly."

That she could believe. Also, this was the part she did not feel like testing. Both feet on the ground, she felt she had a slight shadow of a chance. Good, solid ground.
The wind kept hissing around her. The suit jacket unbuttoned, flapping in the wind.
She looked at Tyler. He didn't know how skilled he was in combat, but suspected that the brains of the operation were usually not the muscle. That's why he needed backup. Too bad he didn't have one.
At least he is a healer. As long as he's not dead, he's gonna be fine.

"I suppose I could just shoot them both."

Hold on to that thought.

The woman finished... whatever it was that she was doing. Picking a person apart. Urgh. She measured them up like prey. Double urgh.

"Do you mind?"

"Well I do."

The wind lashed out with a tearing sound, very similar to that of a train passing by inches from one's face. It didn't have a clear direction or any real form; Jewel, who was in the center of the whole thing, fought to stay grounded. From the corner of her eyes she could see that although most of the air she sent forward towards the enemy, it still hit Tyler hard enough to make him stagger. Please God don't let him shoot me.
Wind hit the insane female like a moving wall, throwing her up into the air and against the wall above the front door. She made an inhuman sound of anger and stayed there hanging, claws dug deep into the wall, crouching to get into position for a jump. Jewel backed away. There is no way in hell she can reach them in one leap.
Lifting her hands, she tried to figure out what she had just done, and, more importantly, how she had done it. She might need to repeat in very soon.

Watch out, she's coming.