snikting | Appointments Post

She raised her own brows high right back at him at his question.

"Of course not; I wouldn't have done it if I knew it wouldn't help you better."

He grumbled, but continued to trek forward. He was never one to gratefully accept help, beneficial or otherwise. But for now, it was important to remain quiet. When their trail got warmer, he quietly slid his claws out, until they were nearly on top of them. There were six of them. One of them was well armored, which probably meant an Elite. Logan pressed his back against a tree and signaled his plan to Ororo. She'd fly above them while he went for the direct approach. That way she could take care of any that tried to flee or take him from behind.

They'd been working together long enough that Ororo could pick up his nonverbal cues with relative ease. So at his signal, she simply nodded and took to the air when she deemed it prudent to do so, the breeze only making only the barest of whisper-soft noises while their enemies were barely paying attention. She was careful to keep out of sight and downwind, yet just close enough to keep them, and Logan, within her sight as she waited for him to charge them.

He waited a moment, to see which direction they'd choose. They picked his. He swore under his breath. So much for the element of surprise.

He charged anyway, slashing at the first one, tearing him in two. The others used their wings to take flight, backing off, and preparing to counter. This is where Ororo was invaluable. Logan was a damn good fighter, but those cultists would take to the sky and confound him if he went solo. The ones that stayed on the ground he could deal with.

Ororo knew she had to be careful to keep the skies as clear as possible to avoid attracting attention. So even before the cultists take flight, she was readying a charge of electricity in her hands - and when they rose, she was ready to advance on them quickly. Ball lightning crackled and flew from her fingertips and to their wings, gathering momentum as it jumped from one feathery appendage to the next. It wouldn't be enough to kill them - they were stronger than that - but hopefully it would keep them on the ground.

The cultists weren't expecting that. It provided an ample distraction for those still on the ground. One - two, he took down the remaining soldiers on the ground. That just left the Elite, who looked royally pissed by losing his squad. He was faster than Logan anticipated and though a pair of claws were stuck into the Elite, it didn't slow him down. Logan was sent flying into and through a nearby tree with a painful crack. In the meantime, the Elite turned his attention to the sky.

With the Elite's attention now on her, she had to act quickly. His wings were armed and Ororo could not depend on her lightning to down him as easily as she did the others. He rose to meet her in the air, charging at her with some kind of invisible, mid-ranged weapon. She dodged, but miscalculated its reach and got a nasty gash across her arm for her trouble.

Angered, she flung out a hand: fierce and focused winds rushing out to gather him in a contained cyclone that would interfere with his ability to fly with direction. With a thought, she sent him back to the ground with as much force as he had sent Logan flying into that tree.

It was enough time for Logan to recover. He could smell new blood in the air- Ororo's. When the Elite hit the ground, Logan pounced, driving his claws into the winged man's chest, over and over. It was a bloody mess but even though he had been tearing away at this cultist, he was thrown off yet again, now coated in blood, and apparently having only pissed his enemy off.

"Great. It's the damn Juggernaut of cultists."

Running on adrenalin from the fight, Ororo hardly felt the pain from her injury beyond the initial sting. It slowed her down a little, but since the Elite had been preoccupied with Logan, she had ample time to surprise him just as he was getting up from the ground. Tackling him from behind, Ororo managed to straddle his back and flip out the knife she kept tucked in her boot (it was really the only weapon she preferred to fight with, if she had to) and made short work of the light armor over the Elite's wings.

It was fortunate that she was quick about it, because the Elite lived up to Wolverine's newly-coined nickname for him, thrashing about and flipping himself and Ororo over so that they grappled on the jungle floor. Ororo was reasonably good at close-quarters combat, but it was clear that in this she was outmatched.

He was rolling back to his feet when he saw Ororo and muttered our a curse as he pulled himself back up. His body was bruised and beaten and working overtime to heal, but that wasn't the problem. She was being a damned fool to try and take him on close quarters and he was more that a little concerned for her safety. He raced headlong into the fray to intervene before she suffered an injury she wouldn't heal from. By the time he arrived, the cultist was on top, so Logan threw himself on the cultist's back, locking his arms around the Elite's neck, and both of them rolling around. Logan winced as he ended up on his back, forcing his wings into an uncomfortable position, but still he kept his arms locked, choking the life out of the cultist.

The Elite stood up again, thrashing and trying to pull Logan off, even throwing himself up against trees, but the bleeding and bruised Wolverine stayed on, tightening his grip even more, all the while as the Elite started to turn blue.

Ororo quickly got to her feet - a little unsteadily, but she was up - and stepped towards the pair. Logan was hurt enough already, and if he continued to hold onto the Elite he would not get any better. But she could end this quickly.

"Either you let go or you brace yourself, Wolverine!" Above them, a dark cloud began to form, lightning snapping fearsomely. If she struck the Elite down where he stood right now, Logan could attract some of the lightning. He would heal, but she did not want to cook him if he could simply roll away.

Logan had intended to choke the life out of the Elite with every last ounce of strength he had. Letting go was probably the healthiest thing he could do. But at the same time, his metal bones would be the ideal conductor to fry this Elite even more than Ororo's bolts of lightning would normally do, especially if it was targeted somewhere vital. Logan dug his claws into the cultist's back, aiming for the heart.

"Do it!"

He braced himself for the inevitable.

Trusting that he would be all right - all she was waiting for was his consent, after all - Ororo called down a bolt of lightning so fierce that lit up the jungle around them. It split the sky with its brightness and vaguely, she hoped that Logan had had the presence of mind to close his eyes. With sight as sensitive as his, she hoped it didn't blind him.

He had his eyes, his teeth, and every part of him clenched as he prepared for the painful burst of lightning. It hurt like holy hell and both he and his enemy roared out in pain. When the lightning was done, both he and the cultist fell over. Neither one of them was moving. The Elite was rigid, but not quite dead. But Logan about looked it as he lay still on the ground unmoving.

Dead or not, Ororo made sure that the Elite wouldn't be going anywhere. A rush of wind and icy rain swept him up and into the nearest tree with a crash, freezing him into the trunk. Once she was sure he was secure in his ice prison, Ororo rushed over to where Logan lay unmoving. She kneeled over him, hurriedly checking his vitals with a worried frown.

"Don't you dare die on me now, Wolverine. How am I going to face that Shifter without you?"

For a moment, there was nothing. No pulse, no breathing, no sign of life. But, moments later, his healing factor kicked in. His heart started again, then he started breathing, which came out in the form of coughing, and he rolled over on his side. He had no words just yet, not until the internal damage was repaired.

Ororo sighed in relief, moving just out of the way to give him space, but still close enough to support his body with one arm. She rubbed soothing, gentle circles against his back with one of her hands, frowning apologetically.

"... I'm sorry. I know you heal from that; but knowing that doesn't make it any easier."

He forced himself back up, still wincing in pain. Everything was sore, stiff, and hurt. But that was the price of putting yourself in the middle of everything. He was used to it, albeit reluctantly.

"Weren't your fault. I asked for it."

She stayed close, wanting to make sure he was stable before she thought of drawing back.

"I only hope that it was enough to keep him down." She glanced back at the Elite she'd frozen to a tree. "There should have been enough voltage in that last bolt to down a small elephant, but they are stubborn creatures, aren't they?"

"Sort of like me."

He stood back up, wobbling a bit, before advancing towards the Elite. "We can't afford to leave this one alive."

Ororo watched him go, his words stilling her for a moment.

"... Yes. Of course." This was hardly the first death on their hands, by now. But it was still hard to come to terms with it. Especially when, for all intents and purposes, this man was now at their mercy.

"You keep lookout. I'll deal with this."

She didn't have to watch. Hell, he didn't want her to. This was always going to be his job. Doing the dirty work, so others could retain the parts that made them good.

Much as she hated to leave this to him, Ororo knew it was also important to stand guard. So with some hesitation, she nodded and made to turn away, intending to give him at least some privacy, but not before called back.

"Alright. ... Make it quick, please." Because they were in a hurry, but also because they could give him that small mercy, at least.

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