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xp_logsKurt's squad fights through the guard house to gain entrance to the geothermal plant.
As the other teams engaged the surface troops, it was Kurt’s team that had drawn the assignment of the power plant. Most of the worst treated mutants were assigned to the plant; a kind of death detail meant to winnow down their numbers while milking as much use out of them before they died. Still, it was no easy path down to them, as the plant had a security bunker at the front entrance, keeping people in as much as out.
“We are going to have to be very, very careful on the way down”, Kurt said in an undertone, one cautious eye on the bunker. “Whatever happens, absolutely no use of explosive powers until I give you express permission.”
Angel eyed the bunker with a weary expression, rubbing her bare hands together unconsciously. No use of explosive powers. Right. “Got it,” she said quietly, returning her attention to Kurt and taking a deep breath. One wrong kaboom, and they’d all be heading to a watery grave. Not entirely pleasant.
Jubilee said nothing, merely giving Kurt a relaxed salute to show him she understood what he was getting at before waiting for further instructions. She couldn’t help much in the planning stages without the ability to talk, so it was better that she just let them work it out themselves for now, it wasn’t like she couldn’t make gestures if they decided on something she thought wasn’t going to work.
“All right.” Kurt glanced at the bunker again. “I will go in there and see how they deal with an attacker they cannot pin down long enough to even see clearly. The rest of you, try to get past while I sow confusion - if anyone gets out, make sure they cannot bring reinforcements.”
"Concussions for everyone." Kyle said. "Roger." He rolled his neck, cracking it, and bared fangs. "I still say I get to hit people. I want to beat faces in." Kurt even -hinted- he was having a problem inside that bunker, Kyle was going to go chew on some faces.
“Perhaps I will let one of them get past just for you, Wildchild”, Kurt said over his shoulder with an effort at lightness, already creeping towards the bunker for the briefest of glances through the open door. A moment later, he was gone and reeking blue smoke was starting to seep out of the building, as Kurt ran with his favourite one-man melee attack.
“No, no, I’m with Kyle. Only, I want to do more than concussion and face beatings,” Cammie said evenly to the spot where Kurt was, shaking her arm out. If they had to follow ‘big brother’ in, there’d be hell to pay. But Kurt was that good, she trusted him to handle it.
Shouts and weapons fire erupted from the bunker, allowing them to get closer then they’d hoped before they were spotted. A guard station on the roof opened up, sweeping fire across the area near the entrance. Alarms went off inside, even as a man staggered out the door after a blow from Kurt. Still, it wasn’t easy for the mutant; Magistrates were well trained, and had started to put their backs to the walls and each other, creating clear firing zones to force him to either quit the building or get shot.
Manic laughter came from inside the bunker, mostly for effect, bouncing from place to place without seeming to move between them, and Kurt was trying to make the Magistrates waste their ammunition by appearing just long enough to let them aim and start to fire before being somewhere else. Another of the soldiers flew through the open door.
"If he gets fucking shot in there..." Kyle muttered. The waves of bullets from the guard station had finally ceased, after several loud BAMFS! had been heard from it, and then the silhouettes of the guards manning the weapons had just... disappeared, presumably teleported out of the weapons post and somewhere less full of automatic weapons. With the way forward clear of incapacitating gunfire, and the risk of being shot suddenly much much lower, it was time to, as they say, join the party.
The magistrate who had fled outside the bunker simply was not prepared for two hundred pounds of clawed, fanged mutant coming down on top of their head. At least, the first had not been. Kyle had dropped to all fours, charged and leapt and bounced the man's head off the ground four or five or ten times. Even with the helmet, after the sixth time, the man stopped moving and only groaned.
Jubilee had taken off after the other straggler, the grim calculation of who she happened to be with, how easy or hard it would be to take out the well trained soldier without lethal force, and whether they really wanted to leave more of them behind to possibly attack them later ran through her mind like a quick storm, and she swore softly in her head.
She’d have much preferred using her powers, or a knife, or something to just kill the man and be done with it. Not because she was kill-happy, but because what she was about to do had a very real chance of backfiring on her, either now or down the track when the man woke up and came after them. Unfortunately, she couldn’t figure out any way to really justify killing him outright, not to herself, and especially not to anyone that might ask afterwards.
Jubilee jumped at the last minute, launching herself at the man’s back before she wrapped her arm around his neck, placing her other hand against the back of his neck as she pressed her forearm in against the sides of his neck . Either he would pass out, or she’d need to change track quickly and try to snap his neck, either case would be just fine with her.
She wrapped her legs tightly around his body as he flailed backwards at her, being small as she was, was definitely an advantage in this case, making her a harder target to really get a grip on. She grunted as he fell backward, probably hoping the force of the impact would get her off him.
She was definitely at a disadvantage if she let this guy get a grip on her with them on the ground.
Jubilee saw stars as she managed to bite her already abused tongue, what was left of her teeth snapping down as her back hit the ground. Breath whooshed out of her in a large grunt, and for a moment she thought he might have actually succeeded in crushing her as she felt the stab of a bruised, possibly broken rib take up it’s own litany of protest at her abuse.
She couldn’t breathe, not properly, not with this bastard on top of her like this and doing his best to press her down into the ground. She took quick sips of air, and controlled the panicked shuffle of thoughts in the back of her head that she’d made a really fucking big mistake, hadn’t thought through what she should have done. It just made her more determined to hold on, and she tightened her grip on his neck, pushing his head down into her hold with her hand as he made a choking sound.
‘Just fucking go unconscious, you shitlicking son of a fucking bastard,” she thought, pressing in tighter as his hands started clawing at her arm, digging into her skin and tearing small crescent chunks loose.
Finally, after what seemed like forever the clawing at her arms got more desperate, adding to the lines of blood already sluggishly tracking down her arm but it only lasted a minute more before the man underneath her went limp. She knew that she should let up now, that any longer and the man would probably suffer brain damage, most likely die.
But she also knew she couldn’t allow him to just wake up, and he would if she let go immediately. It seemed like an age, a quickly counted time limit in her head, but she finally let him go, pushing his body off her sideways and crawling away a few metres to let out a hacking cough, drawing in deep lungfuls of precious, life giving air.
She needed to find some way to tie the bastard up, just in case. It was with this thought in mind that she levered her way up onto her feet, and staggered back toward Kyle, Cammie and Kurt.
Cammie was doing what she did best, punching people she came into contact with. She was, grudgingly, keeping it from being fatal, though that didn't stop what she was doing from causing a huge amount of pain. People moaned, convulsed and vomited around her, and she kicked a guy in the stomach for good measure.
Kurt emerged from the bunker as soon as there was no one left inside and informed the others, “The rest of them are swimming home from a few hundred metres offshore with salt water in their guns. Cammie, put him down, he has had enough. Jubilee, are you all right? We should be getting along.”
Kyle picked himself up from a prone soldier that was groaning on the ground with a footprint on his face and shook himself. "Hooray. Now we ride an elevator for a million years. Remind me to find the guy who designed this place and be all Fuck Youuuuuu in his face, kay?"
“Just be happy there isn’t any cheesy elevator music,” Angel said as they started onto the lift. Not the most appropriate time for a joke, but she couldn’t help herself. “Could you imagine listening to that the entire way down?”
Cammie dropped the guy she had been holding on to with a private, feral grin, “If it makes you all feel better, I could HUM the elevator music,” she offered, “Of course, my taste in elevator music is far from the fucking standard of happy chirpy shit you normally get. Metallica makes great elevator music.”
Kyle glanced at Jubilee, and then slid off a salute to Cammie. "I can do a pretty decent Enter Sandman humming. I used to do it to piss off Jay." She was right, Met made -amazing- elevator music. "Dude, I mean, that group with the cellos fuck what's their name?"
“Apocalyptica”, Kurt said absently, moving to Jubilee’s side in case she needed support as they stepped into the elevator. “I like them.”
"See I knew I liked him for a reason." Kyle said, jerking a thumb at Kurt. Banter wasn't really 'on task' but it was that or sit in a cramped service elevator being paranoid for God only knew how long being terrified and he was so not having any of that shit. Fuck that shit. "They covered Rammstein too." He said, and Cammie and Kyle proceeded to debate whether or not the lead singer of the German industrial-metal band was or was not a fireproof mutant for the next three minutes. That was not all that unusual. What was unusual was that they managed to keep it quiet enough that they could still hear the lift machinery and the change in pitch as they proceeded lower and lower.
Jubilee had been only half listening to Kyle and Cammie’s debate as they moved downward in the elevator, now she held up her hands for silence and pushed Cammie in front of her toward the elevator door, and then waved Kurt and Kyle forward as well. It would be easiest for those three to pretend to be mutates, given their visible mutations whereas she and Angel could hang in the back.
Angel tilted her head at Jubilee, blinking and thinking fast. Charades. Jubilee wanted Cammie, Kurt, and Kyle in front, that much was obvious. So what did Cammie, Kurt, and Kyle have in common...? Ah. Obvious mutations. “Cammie, Kyle, and Kurt go in first pretending to be mutates,” she said, looking between the three in question, “and you and I-” Her eyes turned to Jubilee, “slip in behind them and try very hard not to stand out. Right?”
Jubilee raised her thumbs in the age old ‘you’re awesome’ gesture and nodded her head a little too enthusiastically for her current injuries, wincing as the movements caused her pain.
Kyle gave Jubilee the finger, but let his claws slide out, and cocked his head slightly. Brainwashed creepy mutate. He could do that, right up until they noticed he had -hair-. "I want a name tag that says I'm Mutate number Fuck you." He grunted. "What, you think we'll have about three seconds before they figure it out and we're gonna have to beat heads?" he asked, looking at Kurt.
“Give or take”, Kurt answered with grim amusement as the lift juddered to a halt. “And then they will notice we are not shaved and tattooed.”
He stopped talking then, dropping his hands to his sides and letting his face go perfectly blank as the doors slid open.
The pause as the doors opened for the guards to assess was actually two seconds, one curious look and one shared expression of "Who are these idiots kidding?" before the guards raised weapons and barked out orders and the group was met by a small crowd of actual mutates.
Kurt reacted instantly, since this was hardly unexpected, and grabbed Cammie’s arm - then, on a second’s reflection, reached back to grab Jubilee as well - before teleporting back behind the guards, leaving the women there to work and returning to Kyle and Angel. “Harm the mutates as little as possible”, he reminded them all. “We will be incapacitating the guards.”
“Yeah, I know,” Cammie snapped, still reeling a bit from the sudden teleportation. Sure, it didn’t make her sick the way it could some people, but it was still the strangest feeling ever. It only took half a second though to get her bearings again and start hitting people. Though it was far from painless, with the mutates - who had no choice in what was going on - she kept it from being fatal.
Jubilee hung back for a moment, watching Cammie’s fight so she could get an idea of what they were facing, when she noticed one of the mutates she’d hit seemingly shake it off without effort, she realised they might be dealing with healing factors, which made things a little different.
Kurt had been worried about powers usage in here, so she was going to have to start with trying for maximum damage with just her physical abilities, which were not entirely without merit. She’d reconsider if that didn’t work later, and with that thought, Jubilee launched herself into the fray, using every skill Remy and the others had taught her at dirty fighting, this battle was not going to be pretty.
Angel stayed back for a moment as well, watching as the others launch into fights. She was trained in hand-to-hand, of course, but they weren’t exactly skills she could brag about, and as she watched the mutates recover from the hits delivered to them by obviously better fighters, she realized fists alone weren’t going to help her very much.
Of course, at the moment a mutate noticed her distracted state, and somewhere in its non-mind mind decided an unmoving target was better. Angel ducked as a fist flew at her, swinging around so she was behind the mutate. After a very brief moment of thought, blue flames ignited around her hands, and one clenched fist connected with the back of the mutate’s neck. And while the mutate was distracted by the healing burn, its left skinsuit leg went up in flames. Angel winced as the mutate ran into a wall in an attempt to put the fire out.
Kyle, on the other hand, could easily brag about his hand to hand skills. Between his agility and speed and the absurd amount of training from Garrison, and Scott, and others, he was all too good at it, and better than most. Regardless of the order to disable the guards and be careful of the mutates, he was putting everything into the fight, lashing out with claws and teeth. He went straight for one of the larger mutates, shrugging off a blow that probably cracked his ribs, and bore down on the man, ignoring the pain as the ribs re-knit themselves. A moment where a smaller faster mutate was ordered to assist provided little more than a step stool after Kyle kicked the little mutate in the stomach and then used his doubled-over body as a launching platform to get up to the big one's head. Strong guys like that, Kyle'd remembered, you didn't wear them down or try to overwhelm them, you just cut off their air, and he hung on with his leg wrapped around the big mutate's throat until it slowed, stumbled and then passed out.
Having cut through the crowd, Cammie now was within spitting distance of a guard. Biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to crack the skin she grabbed the guy by his shoulder and turned him around, spitting in his eyes. While that had him screaming and flailing, she finished the job by hitting him hard enough to send him to the floor in a twitching, vomiting mass.
Jubilee had been using her smaller body mass and agility to keep one step ahead of the mutate currently trying to grab her and bring her into his space, and thus his control. She peppered him with kicks and finger jabs to pressure points, it didn’t keep him crippled as much as it would someone without a healing factor but it certainly slowed him down.
Finally she let loose with a stream of paffs to his eyes and face, exploding a constant stream of them till the pain finally overcame his ability to remain conscious.
Kurt had been doing what he did best, popping in and out of the melee to hit people from unexpected angles, and several mutates were now propped up unconscious against the walls. The guards had been less gently treated and left to lie wherever and however they fell.
Angel had decided to stick with what she knew - and that was how to set things on fire. She swung in and out of flying punches and kicks, her flaming fists momentarily stunning the mutates and giving her the chance to light various pieces of clothes on fire. Mindless drones, maybe, but they knew enough to panic when their suits went up in flames. And while they were distracted by that, Angel dove in and knocked them out with a fist to the head. It wasn’t the cleanest method in the world, but it worked.
Kyle had taken it upon himself to go after the largest of the mutates and the ones that seemed to be more of a threat than the others. The healing factor meant he could take a little more punishment, and get back up. It became almost a strange system - attack a mutate, knock the poor shit out, and then try to topple them over or throw them into one of the guards.
He came up from a fight with his face half bloody, but still fighting and holding onto the strangely jointed female mutate's throat with one arm to knock her out and was sort of groggy and stumbling by the time she fell. "God, tell me these are the last of... fuck." He looked up to see another group of mutates approaching and groaned.
“Wait”, Kurt said hastily, scrambling up from a crouch to grab Kyle’s arm before he could attack the newcomers. “Wildchild, look, they are not mutates. Just mutants.” He turned to the group, hands visible in front of him, open and empty. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen. We have come to set you free.”
As the other teams engaged the surface troops, it was Kurt’s team that had drawn the assignment of the power plant. Most of the worst treated mutants were assigned to the plant; a kind of death detail meant to winnow down their numbers while milking as much use out of them before they died. Still, it was no easy path down to them, as the plant had a security bunker at the front entrance, keeping people in as much as out.
“We are going to have to be very, very careful on the way down”, Kurt said in an undertone, one cautious eye on the bunker. “Whatever happens, absolutely no use of explosive powers until I give you express permission.”
Angel eyed the bunker with a weary expression, rubbing her bare hands together unconsciously. No use of explosive powers. Right. “Got it,” she said quietly, returning her attention to Kurt and taking a deep breath. One wrong kaboom, and they’d all be heading to a watery grave. Not entirely pleasant.
Jubilee said nothing, merely giving Kurt a relaxed salute to show him she understood what he was getting at before waiting for further instructions. She couldn’t help much in the planning stages without the ability to talk, so it was better that she just let them work it out themselves for now, it wasn’t like she couldn’t make gestures if they decided on something she thought wasn’t going to work.
“All right.” Kurt glanced at the bunker again. “I will go in there and see how they deal with an attacker they cannot pin down long enough to even see clearly. The rest of you, try to get past while I sow confusion - if anyone gets out, make sure they cannot bring reinforcements.”
"Concussions for everyone." Kyle said. "Roger." He rolled his neck, cracking it, and bared fangs. "I still say I get to hit people. I want to beat faces in." Kurt even -hinted- he was having a problem inside that bunker, Kyle was going to go chew on some faces.
“Perhaps I will let one of them get past just for you, Wildchild”, Kurt said over his shoulder with an effort at lightness, already creeping towards the bunker for the briefest of glances through the open door. A moment later, he was gone and reeking blue smoke was starting to seep out of the building, as Kurt ran with his favourite one-man melee attack.
“No, no, I’m with Kyle. Only, I want to do more than concussion and face beatings,” Cammie said evenly to the spot where Kurt was, shaking her arm out. If they had to follow ‘big brother’ in, there’d be hell to pay. But Kurt was that good, she trusted him to handle it.
Shouts and weapons fire erupted from the bunker, allowing them to get closer then they’d hoped before they were spotted. A guard station on the roof opened up, sweeping fire across the area near the entrance. Alarms went off inside, even as a man staggered out the door after a blow from Kurt. Still, it wasn’t easy for the mutant; Magistrates were well trained, and had started to put their backs to the walls and each other, creating clear firing zones to force him to either quit the building or get shot.
Manic laughter came from inside the bunker, mostly for effect, bouncing from place to place without seeming to move between them, and Kurt was trying to make the Magistrates waste their ammunition by appearing just long enough to let them aim and start to fire before being somewhere else. Another of the soldiers flew through the open door.
"If he gets fucking shot in there..." Kyle muttered. The waves of bullets from the guard station had finally ceased, after several loud BAMFS! had been heard from it, and then the silhouettes of the guards manning the weapons had just... disappeared, presumably teleported out of the weapons post and somewhere less full of automatic weapons. With the way forward clear of incapacitating gunfire, and the risk of being shot suddenly much much lower, it was time to, as they say, join the party.
The magistrate who had fled outside the bunker simply was not prepared for two hundred pounds of clawed, fanged mutant coming down on top of their head. At least, the first had not been. Kyle had dropped to all fours, charged and leapt and bounced the man's head off the ground four or five or ten times. Even with the helmet, after the sixth time, the man stopped moving and only groaned.
Jubilee had taken off after the other straggler, the grim calculation of who she happened to be with, how easy or hard it would be to take out the well trained soldier without lethal force, and whether they really wanted to leave more of them behind to possibly attack them later ran through her mind like a quick storm, and she swore softly in her head.
She’d have much preferred using her powers, or a knife, or something to just kill the man and be done with it. Not because she was kill-happy, but because what she was about to do had a very real chance of backfiring on her, either now or down the track when the man woke up and came after them. Unfortunately, she couldn’t figure out any way to really justify killing him outright, not to herself, and especially not to anyone that might ask afterwards.
Jubilee jumped at the last minute, launching herself at the man’s back before she wrapped her arm around his neck, placing her other hand against the back of his neck as she pressed her forearm in against the sides of his neck . Either he would pass out, or she’d need to change track quickly and try to snap his neck, either case would be just fine with her.
She wrapped her legs tightly around his body as he flailed backwards at her, being small as she was, was definitely an advantage in this case, making her a harder target to really get a grip on. She grunted as he fell backward, probably hoping the force of the impact would get her off him.
She was definitely at a disadvantage if she let this guy get a grip on her with them on the ground.
Jubilee saw stars as she managed to bite her already abused tongue, what was left of her teeth snapping down as her back hit the ground. Breath whooshed out of her in a large grunt, and for a moment she thought he might have actually succeeded in crushing her as she felt the stab of a bruised, possibly broken rib take up it’s own litany of protest at her abuse.
She couldn’t breathe, not properly, not with this bastard on top of her like this and doing his best to press her down into the ground. She took quick sips of air, and controlled the panicked shuffle of thoughts in the back of her head that she’d made a really fucking big mistake, hadn’t thought through what she should have done. It just made her more determined to hold on, and she tightened her grip on his neck, pushing his head down into her hold with her hand as he made a choking sound.
‘Just fucking go unconscious, you shitlicking son of a fucking bastard,” she thought, pressing in tighter as his hands started clawing at her arm, digging into her skin and tearing small crescent chunks loose.
Finally, after what seemed like forever the clawing at her arms got more desperate, adding to the lines of blood already sluggishly tracking down her arm but it only lasted a minute more before the man underneath her went limp. She knew that she should let up now, that any longer and the man would probably suffer brain damage, most likely die.
But she also knew she couldn’t allow him to just wake up, and he would if she let go immediately. It seemed like an age, a quickly counted time limit in her head, but she finally let him go, pushing his body off her sideways and crawling away a few metres to let out a hacking cough, drawing in deep lungfuls of precious, life giving air.
She needed to find some way to tie the bastard up, just in case. It was with this thought in mind that she levered her way up onto her feet, and staggered back toward Kyle, Cammie and Kurt.
Cammie was doing what she did best, punching people she came into contact with. She was, grudgingly, keeping it from being fatal, though that didn't stop what she was doing from causing a huge amount of pain. People moaned, convulsed and vomited around her, and she kicked a guy in the stomach for good measure.
Kurt emerged from the bunker as soon as there was no one left inside and informed the others, “The rest of them are swimming home from a few hundred metres offshore with salt water in their guns. Cammie, put him down, he has had enough. Jubilee, are you all right? We should be getting along.”
Kyle picked himself up from a prone soldier that was groaning on the ground with a footprint on his face and shook himself. "Hooray. Now we ride an elevator for a million years. Remind me to find the guy who designed this place and be all Fuck Youuuuuu in his face, kay?"
“Just be happy there isn’t any cheesy elevator music,” Angel said as they started onto the lift. Not the most appropriate time for a joke, but she couldn’t help herself. “Could you imagine listening to that the entire way down?”
Cammie dropped the guy she had been holding on to with a private, feral grin, “If it makes you all feel better, I could HUM the elevator music,” she offered, “Of course, my taste in elevator music is far from the fucking standard of happy chirpy shit you normally get. Metallica makes great elevator music.”
Kyle glanced at Jubilee, and then slid off a salute to Cammie. "I can do a pretty decent Enter Sandman humming. I used to do it to piss off Jay." She was right, Met made -amazing- elevator music. "Dude, I mean, that group with the cellos fuck what's their name?"
“Apocalyptica”, Kurt said absently, moving to Jubilee’s side in case she needed support as they stepped into the elevator. “I like them.”
"See I knew I liked him for a reason." Kyle said, jerking a thumb at Kurt. Banter wasn't really 'on task' but it was that or sit in a cramped service elevator being paranoid for God only knew how long being terrified and he was so not having any of that shit. Fuck that shit. "They covered Rammstein too." He said, and Cammie and Kyle proceeded to debate whether or not the lead singer of the German industrial-metal band was or was not a fireproof mutant for the next three minutes. That was not all that unusual. What was unusual was that they managed to keep it quiet enough that they could still hear the lift machinery and the change in pitch as they proceeded lower and lower.
Jubilee had been only half listening to Kyle and Cammie’s debate as they moved downward in the elevator, now she held up her hands for silence and pushed Cammie in front of her toward the elevator door, and then waved Kurt and Kyle forward as well. It would be easiest for those three to pretend to be mutates, given their visible mutations whereas she and Angel could hang in the back.
Angel tilted her head at Jubilee, blinking and thinking fast. Charades. Jubilee wanted Cammie, Kurt, and Kyle in front, that much was obvious. So what did Cammie, Kurt, and Kyle have in common...? Ah. Obvious mutations. “Cammie, Kyle, and Kurt go in first pretending to be mutates,” she said, looking between the three in question, “and you and I-” Her eyes turned to Jubilee, “slip in behind them and try very hard not to stand out. Right?”
Jubilee raised her thumbs in the age old ‘you’re awesome’ gesture and nodded her head a little too enthusiastically for her current injuries, wincing as the movements caused her pain.
Kyle gave Jubilee the finger, but let his claws slide out, and cocked his head slightly. Brainwashed creepy mutate. He could do that, right up until they noticed he had -hair-. "I want a name tag that says I'm Mutate number Fuck you." He grunted. "What, you think we'll have about three seconds before they figure it out and we're gonna have to beat heads?" he asked, looking at Kurt.
“Give or take”, Kurt answered with grim amusement as the lift juddered to a halt. “And then they will notice we are not shaved and tattooed.”
He stopped talking then, dropping his hands to his sides and letting his face go perfectly blank as the doors slid open.
The pause as the doors opened for the guards to assess was actually two seconds, one curious look and one shared expression of "Who are these idiots kidding?" before the guards raised weapons and barked out orders and the group was met by a small crowd of actual mutates.
Kurt reacted instantly, since this was hardly unexpected, and grabbed Cammie’s arm - then, on a second’s reflection, reached back to grab Jubilee as well - before teleporting back behind the guards, leaving the women there to work and returning to Kyle and Angel. “Harm the mutates as little as possible”, he reminded them all. “We will be incapacitating the guards.”
“Yeah, I know,” Cammie snapped, still reeling a bit from the sudden teleportation. Sure, it didn’t make her sick the way it could some people, but it was still the strangest feeling ever. It only took half a second though to get her bearings again and start hitting people. Though it was far from painless, with the mutates - who had no choice in what was going on - she kept it from being fatal.
Jubilee hung back for a moment, watching Cammie’s fight so she could get an idea of what they were facing, when she noticed one of the mutates she’d hit seemingly shake it off without effort, she realised they might be dealing with healing factors, which made things a little different.
Kurt had been worried about powers usage in here, so she was going to have to start with trying for maximum damage with just her physical abilities, which were not entirely without merit. She’d reconsider if that didn’t work later, and with that thought, Jubilee launched herself into the fray, using every skill Remy and the others had taught her at dirty fighting, this battle was not going to be pretty.
Angel stayed back for a moment as well, watching as the others launch into fights. She was trained in hand-to-hand, of course, but they weren’t exactly skills she could brag about, and as she watched the mutates recover from the hits delivered to them by obviously better fighters, she realized fists alone weren’t going to help her very much.
Of course, at the moment a mutate noticed her distracted state, and somewhere in its non-mind mind decided an unmoving target was better. Angel ducked as a fist flew at her, swinging around so she was behind the mutate. After a very brief moment of thought, blue flames ignited around her hands, and one clenched fist connected with the back of the mutate’s neck. And while the mutate was distracted by the healing burn, its left skinsuit leg went up in flames. Angel winced as the mutate ran into a wall in an attempt to put the fire out.
Kyle, on the other hand, could easily brag about his hand to hand skills. Between his agility and speed and the absurd amount of training from Garrison, and Scott, and others, he was all too good at it, and better than most. Regardless of the order to disable the guards and be careful of the mutates, he was putting everything into the fight, lashing out with claws and teeth. He went straight for one of the larger mutates, shrugging off a blow that probably cracked his ribs, and bore down on the man, ignoring the pain as the ribs re-knit themselves. A moment where a smaller faster mutate was ordered to assist provided little more than a step stool after Kyle kicked the little mutate in the stomach and then used his doubled-over body as a launching platform to get up to the big one's head. Strong guys like that, Kyle'd remembered, you didn't wear them down or try to overwhelm them, you just cut off their air, and he hung on with his leg wrapped around the big mutate's throat until it slowed, stumbled and then passed out.
Having cut through the crowd, Cammie now was within spitting distance of a guard. Biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to crack the skin she grabbed the guy by his shoulder and turned him around, spitting in his eyes. While that had him screaming and flailing, she finished the job by hitting him hard enough to send him to the floor in a twitching, vomiting mass.
Jubilee had been using her smaller body mass and agility to keep one step ahead of the mutate currently trying to grab her and bring her into his space, and thus his control. She peppered him with kicks and finger jabs to pressure points, it didn’t keep him crippled as much as it would someone without a healing factor but it certainly slowed him down.
Finally she let loose with a stream of paffs to his eyes and face, exploding a constant stream of them till the pain finally overcame his ability to remain conscious.
Kurt had been doing what he did best, popping in and out of the melee to hit people from unexpected angles, and several mutates were now propped up unconscious against the walls. The guards had been less gently treated and left to lie wherever and however they fell.
Angel had decided to stick with what she knew - and that was how to set things on fire. She swung in and out of flying punches and kicks, her flaming fists momentarily stunning the mutates and giving her the chance to light various pieces of clothes on fire. Mindless drones, maybe, but they knew enough to panic when their suits went up in flames. And while they were distracted by that, Angel dove in and knocked them out with a fist to the head. It wasn’t the cleanest method in the world, but it worked.
Kyle had taken it upon himself to go after the largest of the mutates and the ones that seemed to be more of a threat than the others. The healing factor meant he could take a little more punishment, and get back up. It became almost a strange system - attack a mutate, knock the poor shit out, and then try to topple them over or throw them into one of the guards.
He came up from a fight with his face half bloody, but still fighting and holding onto the strangely jointed female mutate's throat with one arm to knock her out and was sort of groggy and stumbling by the time she fell. "God, tell me these are the last of... fuck." He looked up to see another group of mutates approaching and groaned.
“Wait”, Kurt said hastily, scrambling up from a crouch to grab Kyle’s arm before he could attack the newcomers. “Wildchild, look, they are not mutates. Just mutants.” He turned to the group, hands visible in front of him, open and empty. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen. We have come to set you free.”
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