The clone wavered around Kousyxe's hand as it and the knife plunged straight through its face, eyes opening comically wide in surprise; Kouxyxe would get a full-body spray this time, as it collapsed down into a music note. But even that didn't stop it from rushing forward, intent on skimming straight under the outstretched knife to ram into Kousyxe's chest; that one, obviously, was working on an agenda of pure aggression.

Meanwhile, another clone rushed at Kousyxe from behind while he was dealing with the first, sitar swinging to club him squarely in the back. It was ready to dance back as soon as it made its shot, whether it hit or not; the other two were playing it considerably safer, as it were, more intent on harassing their target while their fellow was a straightforward distraction. A bit of tactics mixing never hurt, after all--a lot of the people left were straight-up bruisers, but not all of them were. Xigbar, for example, or Axel.....