"Sho' nuff, chere, an' don't you go forgettin' it." To spite the approach of additional assailants, he stood from his perch almost languidly. When you've dealt with things like the Brood, this was nothing worse than a Danger Room session from back in the day, though he did slide his telescoping staff from the hidden pocket in his duster and gave it an experimental whirl before resting it atop his shoulder.

The croaks were getting closer, but he grinned that anticipatory grin the adrenaline junkie always wore when the prospect of something exciting reared its head.

"Non, mon chere. I think I'll take de stairs." A bit of will and the staff in his hand began to thrum with a deep magenta glow and he deftly stepped atop the edge of the roof, overlooking the beasties who'd decided mutant meat sounded pretty good. "B'sides, can't let you have all de fun, non? Laissez le bon temps roule!" And that grin widened as he leaped from the roof, charged staff leading, and slammed the reinforced shaft into the back of the unsuspecting giant toad below, rebounding in a back flip that got him to the awning across the way, only a second story above the water's surface, but he knew Rogue wouldn't be far behind. "Yo' move, mon coeur!"