The purr of motorcycle engines roused Llexe from her current activity—repeatedly slamming the shop's door on the head of the foe left winded by Kyoshi moments before. A couple of chicks rolled to a stop a moment later, the sight sending a few of the goons scrambling to join them as they dismounted. Somewhat interested by the spectacle, Llexe pushed open the door and let go of her victim's jacket, allowing him to slump, senseless, to the ground. She stepped out of the shop, coldly stomping on the man's back as she moved over him, and gave the revived thugs a scathing glare. None of the enemies she'd attended personally had gotten up again, and for good reason; if they possessed even the slightest bit of consciousness, it was better spent trying to staunch their badly-bleeding wounds. A few drops fell from Llexe's talons onto the pavement as came to a stop and got a better look at the twins.

Just a glance at them confirmed that the sisters shared everything they had: the same prissy dyed hair, the same ugly jacket, the same stupid face, and -as it turned out- the same terrible judgment. One held two knives and the other two...fans? Was that girl joking? Not like it mattered. They had pointed their weapons at Llexe, wordlessly making a declaration that they thought they could hurt her. In reply, the woman raised her hand, sweeping a talon across the group of goons. Her eyes, burning pink, promised anyone who lifted a finger a world of hurt. “Dead idiots. Don't get up this time.” Crouching low enough to place her claws on the ground, Llexe twisted her lips into a derisive sneer at Cobra and Viper. What were they doing with bubblegum, like little kids? “Little girls. Put away your toys.” The smirk became a snarl. “Cut me and I'll carve up those pretty faces!” Still essentially lucid, Llexe made a quick judgment. With their henchmen fanned out on either side of them, the sisters couldn't dodge to the side. That made things easy.

Like a bolt of lightning shot through her, Llexe rocketed upward with her special technique, Roll Over. She pulled her arms and legs in and span like a dragster tire as she flew in an arc toward her prey. Once in rage, she straightened out again to execute a savage double overhead slash. One arm, propelled by spinning and muscle power, fell upon each sister. Even if the blows didn't connect fully, Llexe's weight carried her onto her targets. If all went to plan, she'd take both to the ground beneath her, where things could get really ugly. Her reckless, merciless stunt would leave her open to attack from everyone at once, but so what? These thugs were nothing. Any of them who struck her would be signing his own death sentence. And she had everything to prove.