SpicyWaffle

On the rare chance you don't quite get enough people for this, Baxter's looking to get back into things. He's technically PL11, which is slightly above what you're looking for. But, y'know, just in-case! EDIT: Incidentally, without his suit he's at PL7 (albeit with a meager +4 Unarmed Damage :|). So, there's that, maybe!

DONE BY AA Been a while since I've been around, but I'm back now, baby, and it's time to spend those delicious Bee-Keeper Power Points and add/amend some fluff! From base, 13 Unspent Power Points. Drop Beginner's Luck, Stunning Attack, and Taunt for +3pp. +16pp Total. +2 STR & +2 DEX, -4pp. 12pp Remaining. 6pp spent on Skills, for 24r distributed as follows: Craft [Electronics] +4, Craft [Mechanical] +4, Knowledge [Life Sciences] +4, Knowledge [Pop Culture] +2, Knowledge [Technology] +4, Notice +2, Perform [Dance] +4. 6pp Remaining 2pp spent on Defensive Roll 2. While this does little for Baxter in his suit currently, it secures caps for his eventual PL12 Hardcap on Combat Stuff, while making Baxter himself a lil' more plucky. 4pp Remaining. 4pp spent on Baxter's Bee-Keeper Armor, moving it up to Device 16. 4dp spent on bumping Super Strength by 2 points (total of Super-Strength 10). This also raises the respective alternate powers in the array up to caps (+ adds Richochet to his Blast), belated though it might be so close to PL12. The last remaining device point goes into picking up Enhanced Feat [blind-Fight]. Zippo PP left. Other things: dropped his Age Complication since he's legally 18 as of the current date, and I feel it's not REALLY worth a complication now. Also dropped the Reputation one, just because I feel it's no longer really applicable. Tweaked his physical appearance ever-so-slightly, since he still seemed kinda wispy despite his solid 16s across the Physical Stats. Tried to tidy up the statblock for attacks and such, as well as fix that extra weird thing stuck in his old sheet.

Will be away for the foreseeable future. Not sure exactly when I'll have a more reliable schedule to get things posted, but for now I'm hoping for some time next week. Sorry about that

"I... uh... haven't thought that far ahead yet," conceded Baxter, not sure what to do about the obvious emotion Jessica was emitting as she picked up the pace, distancing herself somewhat as her former paramour struggled to keep up. This outing wasn't exactly the reprieve he'd hoped for, but Baxter was always one to just roll with the punches... even if it felt like he was the one getting socked. "Right now I've just a lot on my plate. There're things I want to take care of -- things to try get my life back together. After that, I don't know. College, maybe, or art school if I can pull my grades out of the trash. I'm just... I'm sort of winging it for now, y'know? One day at a time."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Baxter just stood quietly as Jessica said her piece, ceasing his casual stroll towards the mall. He wasn't quite sure why she was so up-in-arms over his decision to hang up the ol' battlesuit, but he could understand her concern. It was sort of a big deal for a superhero to retire, and Baxter hadn't exactly been around for a decade or more like the old Mystery Men or the positively legendary figures who retired just before the Moore Act. Things were... tricky, to say the least. Jessica's heart was in the right place, though. But she needed to know why. Jessica deserved that much for having put up with his double, all the trouble it had caused her, and now him. "I... uh... I got a letter from my uncle day before yesterday," Baxter began, looking away as he dragged out the words by force. "Said he was proud. Yeah, the guy who fought the Freedom League was glad I'd done something good with the armor I found. Said I made a good Bee-Keeper, and be proud someone even took the time to replace me. I didn't even know what to think about that, y'know?" he said, laughing a little at the tail end of his sentence as the idea of Barry Bowles praising someone struck a comical chord, even if it was clumsy praise. "I used to think that, man, Uncle Barry was bananas. Like, really bananas. I sort of had to deal with the fallout for a while after he got locked up -- we all did -- and I just got kinda bitter over it. When I found the suit it was, like, a chance to kill two birds with one stone: I could live the dream and be a superhero, just like I always wanted, running around and doing my part to help the city! Along the way, I could clear the family name without anyone knowing it was me," explained the dark-skinned teenager, his somber tone returning as he downcast his eyes towards the pavement. "Thought'd be easy like in the comics. Turns out I was wrong. Bombed most of my classes to fight crime, and most of the time I just got in the way of other heroes. It was rocky, but I was trying my best. For a while I thought I was on top of the world, too, once I started to get the hang of it... then the whole Wrath thing happened." Baxter suddenly became very serious, brow furling and his hands once more finding their way into his pockets as he looked up at Jessica. "When I was there on the ringworld, I saw some stuff... stuff I wasn't ready for. Stuff I don't think I could have ever been ready for. But everyone else was so... so in-control, even when things looked bad. But when you're out there on your own trapped in some strange place so far from home and out of your element, you start to think about stuff. Things kinda... fall into perspective," prattled the surprisingly calm but sad young man, furling his lips inwards for a moment as he paused. "When I got back, I knew things weren't ever going to be the same. It's not about... it's not about what people think of the Bee-Keeper. No matter what, there'll always be that reminder that, yeah, just because the Bee-Keeper III's a good guy doesn't mean he's not capable of, y'know, doing that sorta stuff again. It's not about going out and fixing all that, or trying to get some good PR or whatever. It's not even about giving up fighting crime -- it wasn't exactly my first choice, 'specially after I'd poured so much time into getting it down." Taking a deep breath, Baxter heaved it out as a sigh that screamed defeatism before returning his distant gaze to the pretty young girl who'd taken such a gamble on him. "I... saw the stuff the Bee-Keeper robot did on the news. Heard it from one of the folks who rescued me before that. I knew what I was coming home to. The thing is Jessica, I am responsible for what happened. It was my fault I got captured. My fault that the Curator got his hands on me, the Bee-Keeper Armor, and everything it could do. My fault he puppetered this whole thing, getting in good with folks -- getting close to you -- to keep up the status quo that everything was cool," Baxter emphasized, miming the atrocities he was supposedly guilty of with great dispassion. "And it's my fault those people are dead now. They aren't coming back, Jessica. They aren't coming back because I was too stupid and got caught in some kinda trap by the Curator. I can't risk... I can't risk that happenin' again. I can't risk someone else just grabbing me off the street in-costume, or taking the Bee-Keeper suit. It's... it's just too dangerous, and I don't think I should hang on to something like that; especially since I barely understand everything it can do." Baxter paused again to catch his breath, his long-winded tirade having left a sour taste in his own mouth. It probably wasn't what Jessica wanted to hear, but he stood by his choice to tell her. She deserved to know. "That's why. It was my dream to be just like the Freedom League in the comics... but now? Now I don't think I'm cut out for that, after I've really seen what it's like -- the kinds of choices I'd need to make, and the consequences I'd have to deal with. I'm just... I'm just not meant to be super. So as soon as I can get around to it, I think I need to call up Fleur and just have her take the suit and let her and the League do whatever they think is best with it."

"Well... uh..." Baxter stammered, trying not to laugh out jovially as Jessica gave him a light bump whilst they walked along towards the entryway of Millennium Mall. He didn't want to lie if he had to, but this was a touchy subject. The suit had been a big part of his life for the last year -- a part, he felt, he'd wished he'd taken more seriously before his abduction. Only in hindsight when the worst had come to pass did he realize just how dangerous that bee-themed suit of armor really was. "It's mothballed right where I found it the first time," he answered earnestly. Why was he even telling Jessica all this? He'd just met her, and this was crazy. Yet it was strangely gratifying to get these weird secrets he'd started fostering as a superhero (if he could even still be considered such a thing), even if it was with some woman he'd only just been introduced to. "So now it's just sitting in that funky crate, locked up in a storage unit. It's... it's probably for the best, y'know?"

"Aww, man..." bemoaned the Bee-Keeper as Dragonfly refused the invitation. Baxter was positively brimming at the prospect of slapping together some sort of super-crew, doling out justice en masse under a unified guise -- it just wouldn't be the same without all of them! "C'mon! You zzure? 'Clad'zz already got an awezzome logo going for uzz. We could totezz get matching uniformzz!~" smiled the energetic hero behind his insect-like facade. Taking a second look at Dragonfly, though, he quickly quashed pressuring her further. "Alright. Yeah. I'm totally in on thizz! And, y'know, if you ever change your mind, Dee, I'm zzure Fenrizz'll alwayzz have a zzpot open."

Baxter laughed forcibly, making a somewhat comical face that just oozed with terribleness at the mention of his home life. "Not great. Now's definitely not a good time to meet my folks. I'm lucky they didn't tether me to my bed or something after I spilled the beans when I got back, or put bars in my room to lock me up for the rest of my life! I mean, man, you should have seen my mom's face when I told her I'd been running around in a tin suit fighting bad guys. Jeez." Giving a heave, Baxter had to struggle to stifle another laugh. "And my dad... oh, man, every day..." Letting go of Jessica's hand for a moment, the dark-skinned teenager put on his most serious face, scratching at invisible stubble and feigning the use of some unseen pipe clutched between his teeth. "So, how was school, Bax? Cut any classes to put yourself in life-threatening situations? Maybe fight some ninjas or giant gorillas with death rays?" he mimed, doing his best impression of an older man with a deeper voice before swiveling back to face Jessica proper as he began his one-man show. "'No way, dad. But I did get a D on my history test!" Shifting again and resuming his fatherly tone, Baxter added in a somewhat nonchalant tone "Oh, that's good. As long as you're not lying to your mother and I, and you totally got rid of that stupid battlesuit. No son of mine should be running around fighting crime -- leave that to the professionals!" He may have been exaggerating a little bit, but if he was, Baxter didn't seem all that phased by doing so as he ran a hand along the back of his neck, smiling all the while. "Yeah... definitely not so good, but I guess it could've been a lot worse. But, hey, at least they didn't think I... you know, all that stuff with the robo-me. Probably wouldn't make things any better if I told em' what it was like where I actually was either when that android-thing was impersonating me, so, y'know, keep that under your hat, Jess."

The ride up to the mall had been pleasant, to say nothing of the ferocity regarding Jessica's driving. Regardless, their arrival at Millennium Mall was a welcome relief from the lollygagging lifestyle at home Baxter had taken up since his return from the void of space; made doubly nice by the chance to actually get out and not sulk in his room. It was... well, it was nice. Nice to just be hanging out with someone who at least knew his deepest, darkest secret. To be away from all the other drama. It certainly helped to have a cute girl with a nice car who liked movies, too! For some strange girl who'd just walked over to him and suggested they have some fun, she was pretty cool. But Baxter couldn't help but wonder just what his duplicate had done to get her attention... and, again, whether or not he ought to be mingling with his defacto doppelganger's former squeeze. "So I was thinking we could just chill out for a bit and check out some of the stores," Baxter began as he clambered out of the expensive looking vehicle, leaving his stained and tattered backpack right there in the seat where he'd deposited it as he shut the door soundly, but without slamming it. "Then we can head over to the food court and get our grub on..." Baxter smiled, but even his smile felt off as he rubbed the back of his neck again sheepishly, his smile fading ever so slightly. "This... uh... this must be super-weird for you -- trust me, I'm feeling it, too. Y'know what? Don't listen to me. I'm here with you; so what do you wanna do, Jess? What kinds of stuff did the other-me and you used to do before it... uh... went bananas?"

"No way! No museums," Baxter insisted, raising his hands in protest as he clamored into the stylish green car and stuck his book bag beside his feet. "Every time I go to one of those things something goes wrong. Last thing I wanna do is have to deal with a bunch of ninja mummies or animatronic dinosaurs gone nuts." Turning to face Jessica as he settled into the expensive looking car, Baxter tried his best to smile politely, endeavoring to shake off his dispassionately glum demeanor. "The mall's good. We can window shop or something, maybe get some food. Or, hey, we could catch a movie! You, uh... you like movies, right?"

Bee-Keeper III (8) (1) (6) (1)

Baxter hadn't done much else but shower and snack on a lone protein bar before reaching the all too welcoming sight of Earth, the great commodity of sleep unavailable to him in the wake of his 'effectiveness' as a robotic assassin. How could he snooze knowing that somehow, somewhere he'd been replaced, and then used like a living battery to slaughter criminals as if they were livestock? How could he sleep soundly knowing that everything he'd worked for, all that time and energy he'd poured into salvaging the tarnished title of the Bee-Keeper had all been undone just as quickly, his good intentions played against him in the grand scheme of things? Baxter wasn't stupid -- even if the people could forgive him for blundering into that trap in the first place, even if they would exonerate him for the crimes his vicious doppelganger had committed, they would always remember the truth: that even if the Bee-Keeper III was still a hero at heart, he was still capable of performing those atrocities. And so there he stood at the ramp of the Nightdragon, looking quite the mess. Sure, he was clean, but a cold shower can't wash away that look -- that thousand-yard stare of someone who'd seen things he wasn't ready for, whom was just barely able to get through in one piece. He'd seen things he'd never planned to see; things people would never believe. Exhaustion wasn't helping matters, nor meager malnutrition and a heavy conscience. But despite all the harrowing sights, all the life-threatening shenanigans and space battles, Baxter had never been more scared than he'd been before as he stared down at the grassy park beyond. "What?" he finally stammered out as he turned to face Erin and his other remaining rescuees, almost as if he hadn't heard the question at all. "Oh. Yeah, no. It's cool. I've... uh... I'll be alright." It was a blatant lie, but one the young Bee-Keeper seemed convinced to stick with all the same as he stared agape between his saviors. He knew it wouldn't be the same, though. Nothing would ever be the same. Jill might have been able to whip him into shape just in-time to board the Curators' base, but things change. He needed time to sort this out; time to make sense of being gone, of being so far from home, and the damage that had been done. "Thanks. Y'know, for everything. For saving my life -- all of our lives," Baxter added sheepishly. He almost thought about extending a hand towards the eerie masked man and the lady in the fancy battle suit, but he thought better against it in favor of a simple but respectful nod, lips furled inward in thought. Right now he just wanted to get home and see his folks... and then? Then... he didn't know. Tell them the truth about what he'd been up to? Tell them where he'd been? Play ignorant to the whole fiasco? He didn't know. He didn't even want to think about it. He just had to take it one step at a time... One step. With a heave and a sigh, heavy dufflebag bearing its burdensome load of armor in tow, the teenage hero silently slogged his way down the ramp, heavy footfalls the crescendo to his descent to the park ground below. It was going to be a long walk back, but perhaps that was for the best. It would give him time to clear his head as he made that long awaited trip back to where he belonged. Back home, where he was just regular ol' boring Baxter Bowles.

This was so strange. Baxter wanted to just blurt out a resounding no to the woman's offer, the look itself evoked in his body language as she popped the question and escorted him to the spiffy little convertible It was a bad idea; after all the stuff he'd been through, all the things he'd seen abroad on that terrifying Ringworld that the Curator had controlled and had to deal with on his return home, the last thing he wanted to do was string along this pretty young lady whom his cybernetic predecessor had endeavored to woo. It was a delicate time for the dark-skinned teenager, especially with all the fallout of the Day of Wrath still settling in. Frankly, he wasn't even sure he wanted to continue playing hero anymore after seeing what could go wrong firsthand, having had time to reflect on what was important to him back when he, Blue Jay, Steve, Jill, Wander and Dorothy were all floating in that giant tin can on the way to its diabolical lair. It certainly couldn't have been any easier for Jessica, who had to endure the roller-coaster ride of a murderous faux boyfriend only to find out they'd never actually met. She'd trusted him, and he'd inadvertently broken that trust between them. Maybe in some weird way this was a good thing. It was time to move on from that negative experience and try to start fresh, a chance to shake off this perpetual gloominess that had hung itself over his head like a dark cloud ever since he'd found out he'd been abducted by the Curator. No opportunity could be more golden. Besides, this might be just the thing to help clear the air between him (or at least his android double) and Jessica. It could be good for him -- for the both of them. "You know what?" Baxter replied softly after a moment, perking up somewhat as he gave the faintest of smiles in return. "I could use a little fun. What were you thinking?"

Having followed along solemnly around the building and out to the young lady's car, Baxter's heart skipped a beat when Jessica finally dropped the bomb. He'd known his double had been up to some shenanigans, impersonating him and living his life outside of his heroic identity as the Bee-Keeper, but this? This was something else entirely. It was positively mind-boggling. Not only had his robotic doppelganger taken control of his life, it had taken to dating some cute girl who didn't even know it was a robot! It had revealed its -- his -- secret identity to her, confided in this Jessica Parker person, and started a relationship with her. What was he supposed to say to that? Had she told anyone else? How could Baxter possibly make amends for the utter betrayal that imposter had performed? So many questions flooded his mind; things had definitely taken a turn for the awkward. "We were... I mean, you and the other Bee-Keeper were dating?" he repeated again as he trailed behind the blushing scientist, trying to take in the entirety of the situation. "That's... uh... wow. I don't... I don't even know what to say to that." Baxter bit his lip for a moment, rubbing the nape of his neck sheepishly as he struggled to deal with this sudden explosion of information. The answers weren't exactly jumping out at him; this was foreign territory for the young man. "Look, I... uh... I'm not very good at this sort of thing, but I'm sorry. Sorry if I... I mean, it hurt you, or tried to hurt you," Baxter sputtered out clumsily, lips furling inwards as he tried to find the right words but coming up empty.

Just like that, everything got awkward. Baxter could feel the uncomfortable sensation rising in his gut, a mild panic ticking away in his head at the mere mention of his robotic duplicate and the deeds it had done a month prior. Did she know? Did his doppelganger do something to her? Hurt someone she cared about? He wasn't sure; then again, Baxter was hardly ever sure of anything. In this case though it didn't take a detective to see the evidence in front of his face: Jessica knew something, and she knew -- or at least suspected -- Baxter was involved in some way directly. He just had to keep calm. The last thing he needed to do was spill the beans in front of everyone at school. That would be terrible -- real terrible! "Okay, sure," he mumbled, looking around as the prisoners of the Freedom City educational system continued to make their great escape, all but ignorant to the two speaking so frankly. "You... uh... you wanna talk somewhere more private, or what?"

Ceasing his meandering at the insistence of an unknown voice, Baxter looked up slowly from his downcast gaze to face the mysterious girl whom had called out to him. Looking her up and down for a moment, he didn't even recognize her -- so how did she know who he was? It wasn't exactly an every day thing that some cute girl just stopped in front of him to chat it up, and of all the times that could have happened, it had to be right when he really wasn't feeling it. But there was something about her... something about this Jessica Parker that caused him to heave a defeatism-worthy sigh as he tried to perk himself up, adjusting the awkwardly light backpack straddling his shoulder as he endeavored to feint some sense of normalcy. Whatever it was she wanted, it had to have been important -- why else would she just stop him like that? He just had to play it cool; a perfectly normal guy with a perfectly normal life. "Sure, I guess?" answered the dark-skinned young man, even darker bags hanging under his eyes and his voice marred with some sense of trepidation. "What's up?"

Things hadn't been going well back home for poor Baxter since his return from the far-reaches of space, a victim of the Curator's macabre machinations. Even since he'd gotten back to Freedom City, a shadow of doubt had lodged itself in his mind as he attempted to resume some semblance of normalcy, all the while dealing with the fallout of all that had transpired in his absence. His life was in shambles -- for more than a month, another Baxter had taken over his life. Another Baxter had weaseled its way into the highest echelons of trust and virtue within the heroic community, an unassuming duplicate whom right up until his explosion had played his part rather well. Just the thought that the robotic doppelganger had been so close to those he loved had only made things harder, knowing that any moment it could have done something insurmountably terrible. He was fortunate enough that whatever programming the Curator had instilled in his replacement wasn't as malicious as it could have been, but in its own way it had still destroyed the Bee-Keeper -- regardless of what the populace at large believed, the truth was still vividly clear that the Bee-Keeper had killed at least a dozen people in cold blood and injured at least two other heroes before being subdued by Fleur de Joie and Velocity. And it was all Baxter's fault. As the bell rang and the kids beat their hasty retreat en masse from FDR High, the curmudgeonly intergalactic survivor was right there with them, at least physically speaking. While other teenagers might have been positively jovial to be free from their scholastic duties for the rest of the day, Baxter wasn't looking at all happy; a trait he'd endured ever since he'd gotten back to Earth. He was surly and worn down, looking not unlike a mess. That same pep-in-his-step had disappeared, that energetic go-get-em' attitude having followed suit soon after. No, Baxter was not at all pleased with what he'd come back to, and even with the Bee-Keeper III's name having been exonerated, he couldn't even bring himself to look at the armor. It was almost strange having a backpack so light, devoid of the metal battlesuit clogging up its insides. But it was probably for the best. The suit was dangerous; far too dangerous to let fall into the wrong hands again. If he'd been more cautious, if he'd been more aware of his surroundings before he'd been ambushed, maybe it could have all been avoided... but he hadn't been. While not directly responsible, Baxter knew in his heart he'd been stupid enough to get caught by the Curator in the first place, all that technology having been turned from an erstwhile and honest endeavor to do good completely undermined for more nefarious purposes. All Baxter wanted to do right now was get home and forget this whole thing had ever happened, try and deal with the guilt and move on. Trudging along, the downtrodden teenager meandered along sullenly along the sidewalk near the front entrance, passing by the leafless tree overlooking the parking lot from the main building as he went without so much as a wave or a cheerful smile towards the lone girl poised beneath its barren branches, eyes downcast and looking downright ragged.

And thus, at Redbird's plain-as-day response, Baxter Bowles' already miserable day just hit an all time low. Whatever joy being liberated from the Curator's ringworld had brought him had almost instantaneously been destroyed as the whole sordid affair of what had been transpiring on Freedom City, regret immediately taking hold of him as he wished he hadn't asked in retrospect. "Executed..." he repeated, face paling significantly even as Dorothy brought up even more potent feelings of loved ones being injured. Even Statos' blatant disrespect about their predicament flew over Baxter's head as he visibly clenched his fists, knuckles whitening as fervently as the dark-skinned would-be hero fought against his quivering lip. Six weeks... he'd been gone for six weeks, and some robot was living his life for him. There were so many things wrong with that; so many horrid things those machines could have done. A vivid imagination was a terrible thing to have when you knew your doppelganger was out murdering people, ruining your life and the lives of everyone around you. It made Baxter sick, his stomach twisting itself into painful knots, struggling to eject the nonexistent bile in his gut to alleviate the stress as everything began to sink in. "Was it... w-was it just criminals?" Baxter added, seconding Dorothy's concerned notion about their friends and family. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable answer Redbird would give. "... How bad? How bad was it?"

Blinking in disbelief -- both at the clumsy come-on from the android woman and then their subsequent collapse -- the Bee-Keeper was at a loss for words! Not only had the cadre of villains praised them for their success, but also spilled the beans for their whole plot before crumpling to the ground. Their death ray was dismantled, the bad guys more or less defeated, and everyone was a-okay -- it should have been a sound victory! But the Bee-Keeper didn't feel victorious. He wasn't even sure this constituted as winning if the culprits just fell down, swearing vengeance in a round-about manner. "Zzo... doezz thizz mean we win?" the apiary themed avenger inquired, perhaps unnecessarily as he looked between the entourage of battlesuit-clad heroes. "They kinda got away. Won't they juzzt, y'know, try zzomething like thizz again?"

Taking Stratos' continued silence as an unspoken agreement, Baxter just sat quietly there for the longest time. Dorothy seemed happy enough that whatever her double had done she wouldn't be held responsible, but Baxter? Baxter wasn't so certain as he stared down the holographic chaperon, a burning question glinting in his eyes. A single, unerring thought that had burned in the young hero's mind ever since it had entered into existence, plucking at his brain like some mad doctor keen on bringing about a desired, conditioned response. And so, with no measure of tact or restraint, the young Bee-Keeper narrowed his eyes towards Redbird. He had to know the truth... "You said that I... I mean, the other me, exploded," the dark-skinned boy began, trepidation in his heart as well as on his tongue as he straightened himself up in his seat. "And that Blue Jay's double was really effective. Before they were stopped, what happened? What did they do back in Freedom?"

The humdrum of activity having come to an end with Michael Cunningham returned to Blackstone and the robotic replacement of Sky-Lord incinerated, what had just been a routine patrol had turned into quite the adventure. It had been... well, it'd been hectic, to be sure, but all in all, the Bee-Keeper had to admit it was kind of fun working with someone similar. He'd never met anyone else like Jessica-- it was either people who could blast energy out of their hands, or throw exploding cards, were cat people, or some other bizarre thing. But her? Behind all that armor, she seemed normal; or, at the least, more normal than almost everyone else he'd met in the superhero biz so far. She'd been so open about her identity with him, too; a trait Baxter hadn't quite reciprocated out of fear of compromising his identity. After shaking Ironclad's hand, the Bee-Keeper just smiled behind that unflinching facade of his, positively brimming as he looked out towards the city below. "I know what you mean," the Hero of the Hive finally murmured, folding his arms across his chest. They made a good team, him and Jessica. There might have been some hiccups here and there, but really he was just glad it was all over. Glancing over towards the scientific mastermind, the Bee-Keeper cleared his throat for a moment, then took a step closer. "Zzo, uhh... I wazz thinking. Maybee we could, you know, do thizz again or hang out or zzomething," he began, letting his arms slump to his sides for a moment. "I mean, if you're interezzted. No prezzure! I juzzt thought that you, uh, you were pretty cool back there, and... y'know what? Lemme juzzt zztart over." Taking a deep breath, the Bee-Keeper mustered up an odd sort of courage, looking around to make sure the coast was clear before he raised a hand to the back of his neck. With a small clicking sound, the helmeted hero's insectile guise furled itself inwards, retracting into the recesses of the armor he wore, leaving his head wholly exposed to Jessica atop their rooftop vista. "I'm Baxter," began the dark-skinned teenager anew, a sudden surge of confidence finding its way into his voice. "Now that the world's safe for another day, maybe we could go down to Millennium Mall and get some Chinese food or something? Think we've earned a little break."

Staggering back up to his feet, the Bee-Keeper wobbled only slightly as the pounding in his temples began to fade away, slowly but surely. It looked like everything was winding down now; the bad guys had been beaten, the ultimate laser of super-doom rendered useless, and Ironclad had even managed to snag some pretty sweet swag in the form of a non-exploded, non-busted prisoner! But for all the technobabble and computer-lingo that he couldn't follow and the throbbing in his noggin, the Bee-Keeper was feeling glad it was all over. "Think zzo," Baxter chimed as Ironclad showed up unharmed, robo-jerk in-tow as she inquired about the mysterious doomsday device. "It'zz right over there. And... uh... over there. And zzome of it'zz over there. Zzorta lookzz like it got zzplattered like metal pudding, but I mizzed it," he said, arms finding their way to his waist as he beamed over the scene. Turning back to face Ironclad and her impromptu prisoner, the apiary-themed teenager couldn't help but cock his head as he surveyed the mechanical man all trussed up. "He give you much trouble?" inquired the Hero of the Hive, stepping up alongside the well-armored scientist.

What a long, strange trip it had been. For Baxter, stepping onto that teleporter back on the Curator's world and running over to the Nightdragon felt like the longest minutes of his life; every heartbeat seeming to last an eternity in the wake of the fantastic space battle. Yet, despite the elongated sense of time, everything still felt like it had happened so fast. Where once panic and dismay gnawed at Baxter's conscience, the overwhelming relief in the wake of all that had happened had taken its place, leaving the young teenager on the border of mental and physical exhaustion. Even with all the bubbling emotions teeming within the mechanical saucer from all the unfamiliar and familiar faces alike, all Baxter wanted to do was trudge along to the galley as he was instructed and just collapse. Without skipping a beat, the yellow-and-black armor peeled away amidst Tona, Stratos, and Redbird alike without a single care as the dark-skinned youth sank into a nearby seat, a look of exasperation promptly displayed on his face. His heart skipped a beat at the mention of the duplicates, and his owns self-termination. For a moment, Baxter almost seemed like he was going to ask the holographic construct something about that, mouth agape for a solid moment before sealing itself shut through pursed lips. He didn't want to dwell on it -- not right now. He'd earned his reprieve; they all had. "He did a good job," Baxter wheezed out quietly in Stratos' defense. "If it wasn't for Doctor Stratos, we might've walked into a deathtrap back at Freedom Hall." The Bee-Keeper paused for a moment, giving the mad doctor a small smile. He might have been a villainous cad, but he was still a person-- a crazy person, but a person nonetheless. "Sorry. Y'know, about yelling at you earlier," Baxter said without an ounce of sarcasm, a slight nod being tossed towards the weather-controller.

Ugh. Exhausted. Sorry I haven't really been around the last couple of days; currently working doubles to cover for sick coworkers. Tomorrow's gonna be tough, and I don't know if I'll get a chance to catch up on posts afterwards, but Sunday should be better. If there's any threads waiting on me, by all means push forward -- I promise I'll try and catch up everywhere as soon as I'm not so fatigued.

Even as the Lor and Harrier looked to their scientific pursuits whilst the others provided the starving doctor with his much needed dose of nutrients, the Bee-Keeper remained staunchly focused on the mad weather-oriented villain, taking only a moment away from his unflinching curiosity to jump at the sudden dimming of lights at the behest of Blue Jay's action. Granting the archer what might have passed at any other time for a look of utter confusion intermingled with the telltale signs of shock, Baxter quickly reconnoitered his gaze back to the munching Stratos, seemingly nonchalant about all this nonsense. But then, the man said something Baxter hadn't expected, and the gears in the young teenager's mind began to turn -- slowly but surely -- as he tried to piece together what exactly Stratos was talking about, almost oblivious to the fact he was still calling him Barry. "What do you mean they juzzt zztopped?" inquired the juvenile would-be hero, his voice surprisingly calm and in-check despite all the goings-on around him. Stratos might have been a few lightning bolts short of a thunderstorm, but the thought that the Curator's drones were operational not so long ago caused the hackles on the back of his neck to rise slightly; turning to give the allotted crew within the nerve center of the fiends' operations a cautious glance. "Zztratozz... you've been here for a little bit. We could uzze your help. We need to find a... a plazze to plug our computer in," Baxter continued, sounding rather silly as he tried to keep the situation as brief and clear as possible. "There'zz a problem, zzort of. Thizz whole world izz gonna crazzh and burn if we don't get it back up and running. Doezzn't help that there'zz a bunch of Grue on their way here. Lotzz of people are in danger, Doctor Zztratozz... but if you've zzeen anything like a bunch of giant computerzz, or... or I don't know, anything, we need you to tell uzz."