The Recluse was reclusive. Duh. He had taken over the basement of the new "base" of the not-clan. He hated the name. He didn't hate the fox-girl, though. She was why he was still here. Why he had taken a human-like form. At least for talking. He walked out slowly, like in the movies he had been watching for six hours. His arms swirling into blades. And his body swirling into arms into blades. He leaps up, and slashes at the attackers. Repeatedly. Bullets are absorbed and spat back out. Death is in the shape of a spider today, and it is coming for the Brahmas. Meanwhile, an irritated young adult was arriving. "What in the seven hells is going on? I was eating breakfast!" Jean Knightfall, member of STRIKE, is here to do a thing. With magic, because everything is better with magic. She rubs her eyes and shoots at the bad guys. "Hey bad guys! Over heeeeeeereeee." The last comment is stretched out with a yawn. What? She likes to sleep in!
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