Orb weaver all but hissed in aggravation as he started to turn to aim at Guardian Angel, however a series of soft pops grabbed his attention. Out of the corner of his eye Orb weaver saw a series of sharp looking projectiles gunning for him, eliciting a movement born from several years of martial arts training. He threw a bit more of his weight into his turn, resulting in a less than graceful spin that threw him on his rear. Fate smiled on Orb weaver in that moment, allowing him to narrowly avoid the quills at the cost of his hat, which flew down the hall of the bank with the quills. Orb weaver let out a shaky breath of relief and scrambled back to his feet. This time Orb weaver did not raise his gun, rather he kept it clutched tightly in his hand as he glared at the team. The tension in the air was palpable as his mind raced to find a way out of his predicament.