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.
 

Player Name: SpicyWaffle
Character Name: The Bee-Keeper III
Power Level: 11 (175/175PP)
Trade-Offs: None
Unspent Power Points: 0
Progress To Bronze Status: 25/30

In Brief: An unlikely heir seeks to revivify the zanily tarnished Bee-Keeper legacy in the name of justice.

Alternate Identity: Baxter Bowles
Identity: Secret
Birthplace: Bayview, Freedom City
Occupation: High School Student, Superhero
Affiliations: Franklin D. Roosevelt High School
Family: Barry Bowles (Uncle; Incarcerated), Benny Bowles (Father), Samantha Bowles (Mother)

Description:
Age: 18 (DoB: May 15th, 1995)
Apparent Age: 18
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: African American
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 154 Lbs.
Eyes: Hazel
Hair: Black

Appearance:
 
Once a wiry sort of teenager, Baxter has since made the transition from tindertwig into that of a young man in the prime of his life, boasting a toned physique brought on through a combination of earnest exercise and his heroic hobby, though he still manages to come off as rather plain, making him capable of blending in with a crowd easily; a trait he's found somewhat useful amidst the high school crowd and would-be gumshoes trying to decipher his secret identity. When not in costume, Baxter keeps his dark hair short and simple, preferring a crew cut style to prevent any irritating interference with his vision. Typically found dressed in casual clothes purchased from Bayview Mall, the secret apiary adventurer is practically indistinguishable in terms of any other teen walking the streets... save, perhaps, for the unusual backpack often found strapped along his shoulders.
In costume, however, is a wholly different matter. Once the armor goes on, Baxter becomes the Bee-Keeper (III), an up-and-coming albeit prematurely tarnished young hero of Freedom City. The armor in particular stands out, stylized more after the European Dark Bee, showing off a large pair of metallic, insectile wings of a silvery-black, a full-body battlesuit recently painted by Baxter himself with black-and-yellow stripes, and a helmet affixed to the rest of the heavy-looking ensemble which bears both a pair of antennae and faux compound eyes. More streamlined than the Bee-Keeper Armor 2.0, the 1.6 Eco-Edition is a lighter, but less versatile model that lacks many of the finer points than its crafter's final version, more so for practicality than an intended sacrifice for gain elsewhere. Unlike the more famous model worn by the Bee-Keeper II, however, this one doesn't actually host an army of living bees inside its whirring form. Rather, the Eco-Edition suit carries within itself an assortment of miniscule robo-bees, designed by Barry in the event he didn't wish to bring harm to his buzzing brothers and sisters; hence, ecologically sound for the bees, but not so much for everything else.

Power Descriptions:

Descriptors: Bees, Technology

With no powers to speak of himself, Baxter relies on the various gadgets and gizmos his now-incarcerated uncle built into this particular streamlined, collapsible backpack-shaped model of iconic armor to get the job done. Once unpacked and donned, the armor functions as intended: physically augmenting servos with enough strength to lift a cargo jet, functional retractable wings for flight, and a plethora of self-replicating robo-bees programmed to act just like the real things, it's certainly a scientific marvel brought to life. If it weren't for the fact Uncle Barry was one too many workers short of a hive, it might have been one of the greatest inventions in the last decade; but alas, its only use now is to put fresh whelts on criminal scum before locking them up in the clink, all of which are powered by the busy little robo-bees who collect electricity like normal bees collect pollen.

The most often used tools of the Bee-Keeper Armor 1.6e are no doubt the various blasters. Within the right palm of the metallic exoskeleton is a small energy converter capable of projecting a beam of golden-hued energy generated by the busy bees housed inside the suit, using them as a sort of living battery; the other hand bears a similar compartment, though this one fires super-sticky synthetic (and surprisingly delicious!) honey alternative, capable of stopping any man in his tracks while being wholly nutritious. A pair on the wrists jut out ever so slightly, but bear similar functionality, firing toxic stingers coated in synthesized bee venom which can cause illness in victims. While many of these things are insidious inventions by a distraught Barry Bowles, he wasn't a heartless inventor, and left a few failsafes just in-case things got out of hand. As such, most of the armaments carry a triggerable anti-toxin when signs of serious danger rear their head, such as an allergic reaction or the like.

History:

Born and raised in Freedom City's Bayview district, Baxter Bowles had always been fascinated with superheroes. After all, Freedom City was the proverbial mecca therein, and between their constant exposure on television, in comic books, and on billboards all over the city after the Terminus Invasion, it was no wonder that the young boy found himself awe-stricken by them. They were icons; people to look up to, who went out of their way to make things safer not just for the city, but for the world as a whole. As a kid, he would often fantasize about those farfetched dreams; swinging from skylines like the Raven, duking it out as Captain Thunder, and all other manner of such thoughts that children had a propensity to conjure.

Such thoughts, however, faded for a time as he grew older; coming to terms that such a thing wasn't possible in his own future. Baxter grew into an energetic boy nonetheless, and things were well amongst the family. That is, until it turned out crazy ol' Uncle Barry really was crazy. He was all over the news, going around doing heinous things in a bee-suit, causing no end of grief for everyone. While Baxter was certainly shocked at this revelation, his father and Barry's younger brother was even more infuriated, having become the laughing stock of his lawfirm. For Baxter though, this shifted to life at school. No longer was he the unassuming teenage kid who slept in math class; no, he'd henceforth been demoted to 'the kid who hung out with that crazy bee guy on TV,' despite his protests that he did not, in fact, associate with his uncle. Suffice it to say that school became substantially rougher soon thereafter.

Things changed though when that mysterious letter arrived, heralded by a cadre of small robo-bees. Curious, Baxter sneaked a peek at its contents, and in it contained the location of a storage unit located in the Fens, as well as a key. After the onset of Uncle Barry's criminally-insane breakdown, Baxter felt intrigued to investigate; the errant letter and its contents clearly important. It wasn't long after arriving on the scene that he found the prototype suit hidden amidst his uncle's old salvaged knick-knacks from his electronics shop, and took it as a golden opportunity - a one-of-a-kind battlesuit of his very own. He tinkered with it, figured out how it worked, and said nothing to his parents; going so far as to hide the cryptic letter he'd gotten that was probably meant for his father. But this suit? This was his chance to live the dreams he'd all but given up on; to do something more than just be himself. Like in the comics, he could be something greater; and as he discovered the secrets of the suit and how to work its robotic denizens, he felt like he could be just like his heroes on the Freedom League. Weeks turned to months whilst Baxter secretly trained away from prying eyes outside of class whenever he could, growing in confidence as he did so and studying how the mechanics of the apiary outfit worked, adamant about his goals and eager to at least make an attempt at defending the down-trodden and putting a damper on the criminal element still rampant amidst Freedom City.

Now? Now, Baxter was ready. Ready to take his shot at being a real superhero, just like he'd always dreamed. Ready to take this one chance and put it all on the line in reckless abandon in order to do something for the city and its denizens as a protector. Ready to redeem his family name from his insane uncle, and fix what he'd wrought. With a fresh coat of paint, some idealism of youth, and a desire to make an impact, Baxter took up the mantle of the Bee-Keeper anew, eager to take his shot at what he believed he was meant to be. Not for fame, or fortune, but for the opportunity to rise above his station and do his part for the community as a real superhero.

Personality & Motivation:

Much like how there are two sides to every coin, this is no exception for Baxter. Outside of the armor and high-tech gizmos, he's just your average, everyday teenager, complete with all the problems that come along with that package. Despite his laid-back, almost idyllic facade at school and with his friends, Baxter still has to deal with all the stress of balancing a life of superheroics and secret normalcy. Things aren't always peaches and chocolate chips, but he gets by, and retains a relatively happy-go-lucky albeit somewhat reserved disposition; the latter more in part due to exhaustion than an earnest endeavor to come off that way. He's a sharp enough lad, able to work out this-and-that on his own without any hand-holding, but he's certainly no prodigy. What he lacks in physical and mental faculties, he makes up for with a strange sense of charm; that relaxed friendliness in the face of adversity and laid-back optimism that's earned him at least some indifference if not acceptance from the local cliques in school. A silver tongue helps, having had lots of practice wrapping mom and dad around his little finger with honeyed words and careful omission. Sure, he might lie on occasion, but that doesn't mean his morals are flippant things to be tossed around. His compass, while skewed, is nevertheless pointed soundly towards that of good.

On the flip side as the Bee-Keeper III, Baxter is a wholly different fellow. Behind the mask and within the hardened metallic suit of insectile inspiration, he feels changed; empowered and confident, nearing the point of arrogance, some might say, and emboldened by a desire to do good. Often found spouting horrible bee-related puns and making grandiose speeches in a truly voluble manner, it almost seems comical by comparison. Yet, despite his charmingly goofy routine as a wise-cracking, apiary-themed adventurer, the newest Bee-Keeper takes his self-appointed job quite seriously, adamant in his fight against injustice. Ever since he was a kid growing up in Freedom City, he'd watched superheroes on TV and read comic books, but Baxter never thought he'd had the stuff to really be a hero; saving people from the criminals and bringing them to justice were just farfetched dreams that were crushed before they'd began. That is, until he found his Uncle's old suit of armor. Given a chance to actually live the dream and redeem the good name of his family after his uncle's tumultuous decent into madness, Baxter felt compelled to take up the mantle. After all, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; to be something more than average or an associate of a crazy bee-themed loon, helping people in a way that most might consider unachievable on a personal level. This was his chance to be a real superhero and redeem his good name, whilst putting villainous vagrants in their place in the process!

Powers & Tactics:

Hit hard and hit fast. This is the grand strategem the young bee-themed hero has relied on for the last few months, utilizing the armor's various features and augmented capabilities to put evil-doers in their place through brute force, superior mobility, a little crowd control, and the (relative) safety the battlesuit provides from conventional arms. Having never been officially placed in a position of cooperation with other heroes yet, the newest incarnation of the Bee-Keeper isn't quite sure what he'll do when thrust into such a circumstance, but thus far things have been going swimmingly.

---

Complications:

Bee Amazzzzing! (Obsession): While he wasn't always as such, Baxter has begun to harbor a newfound interest in bees. Sure, he doesn't have any live ones at the moment, but its quickly becoming a fascinating study for the boy that's no doubt been spurred on by his discovery of Uncle Barry's decidedly denounced prototype battlesuit. When he can find the time, Baxter seeks out knowledge regarding these busybodies in an endeavor to unlock his - and the suits - full potential, like his misguided uncle before him.

Homeroom by Nine O'Clock (Responsibility): While the Bee-Keeper's sting might always be within reach of lawbreakers everywhere, Baxter isn't always so fortune to be suited up to do so. After all, he has things he must attend to on a regular basis; and of these things, the bane of them all is his curricular studies. As a high school student, Baxter must attend (and slip out only when it's easy to get away with) his classes regularly, relegating the majority of his crime-fighting activity to the late night variety. Failure to show up... well, hopefully there won't be another parent/teacher conference any time soon.

Who is that Masked Apian Weirdo? (Secret): As a would-be superhero, Baxter does his best to keep his identity a closely guarded secret. While supervillains, mooks, and various other misguided miscreants might prove a perilous sort of ordeal for the aspiring apiary protege, there is one thing he fears more: his parents finding out he's been sneaking out to fight crime on the side.


Abilities: 6 + 6 + 6 + 4 + 0 + 8 = 30PP

Strength: 34/16 (+12/+3)
Dexterity: 16 (+3)
Constitution: 26/16 (+8/+3)
Intelligence: 14 (+2)
Wisdom: 10 (+0)
Charisma: 18 (+4)


Combat: 10 + 10 = 20PP

Initiative: +7 (+4 Improved Initiative, +3 Dex)
Attack: +5 Base, +7 Unarmed, +11 Bee-Keeper Armor Attacks
Grapple: +27/+8 [w/o Beesuit]
Defense: +11 (+5 Base, +6 Dodge Focus), +2 Flat-Footed
Knockback: -6/-4 [w/o Protection]/-1 [w/o Beesuit]


Saving Throws: 5 + 7 + 8 = 20PP

Toughness: +11/+11 [w/o Protection]/+7 [w/o Defensive Roll] (+8/+3 Con, +4 Defensive Roll, +3 Protection)
Fortitude: +13/+8 [w/o Beesuit] (+8/+3 Con, +5)
Reflex: +10 (+3 Dex, +7)
Will: +8 (+0 Wis, +8)


Skills: 72R = 18PP

Bluff 6 (+10)
Craft [Electronic] 8 (+10) ^SM
Craft [Mechanical] 8 (+10) ^SM
Diplomacy 8 (+12) ^SM
Knowledge [Life Sciences] 8 (+10)
Knowledge [Pop Culture] 6 (+8)
Knowledge [Technology] 8 (+10)
Notice 10 (+10)
Perform [Dance] 8 (+12) ^SM


Feats: 26PP

All-Out Attack
Attack Specialization [unarmed] 1
Defensive Roll 2
Dodge Focus 6
Fast Overrun
Grappling Finesse
Improved Grab
Improved Initiative 1
Improved Overrun
Improved Throw
Improved Trip
Interpose
Luck 3
Move-By Action
Power Attack
Precise Shot 2
Skill Mastery 1 (Craft [Electronics], Craft [Mechanical], Diplomacy, Perform [Dance])


Powers: 65PP

Device 16 (Bee-Keeper Armor 1.6e; 80PP Container, Flaw: Hard to Lose; Power Feat: Subtle) [65PP]

Communication 4 (Radio) {4DP}

Comprehend 2 (Speak & Understand Animals; Flaw: Limited [bees]) {1DP}

Enhanced Constitution 10 {10DP}

Enhanced Feat 3 (Blind-Fight, Ultimate Save [Toughness], Uncanny Dodge [Auditory]) {3DP}

BE: Enhanced Strength 18 + Super-Strength 10 (Effective Carrying STR 84; Power Feats: Alternate Power 4, Groundstrike) {43DP} - The Proportionate Strength of a Bee!

AP: Blast 11 (Extra: Autofire, Power Feats: Accurate 3, Improved Crititcal 2, Richochet) [39PP] - The Sting of Justice!

AP: Nauseate 11 (Extra: Ranged; Power Feats: Accurate 3, Reversible) [37PP] - Toxic Stingers!

AP: Snare 11 (Power Feats: Accurate 3, Tether) [26PP] - A Sticky Situation!

AP: Strike 11 (Extras: Autofire, Penetrating; Power Feats: Accurate 2, Improved Critical 2, Mighty) [38PP] - A Mighty Beeting!

Flight 5 (250 MPH/2,500') {10DP} - Flight of the Bumblebee!

Immunity 1 (Bees) {1DP}

Protection 3 {3DP}

Super-Senses 5 (Darkvision, Direction Sense, Distance Sense, Ultra Hearing) {5DP}

4 + 1 + 10 + 3 + 43 + 10 + 1 + 3 + 5 = 80DP

Drawbacks: -4PP

Normal Identity (Full-Round Action) [-4PP]


DC Block:
 
ATTACK                RANGE                SAVE                          EFFECT

Unarmed               Touch                DC18 Toughness (Staged)       Damage (Physical)

Unarmed in Suit       Touch                DC26 Toughness (Staged)       Damage (Physical)

Strike                Touch                DC26 Toughness (Staged)       Damage (Physical)

Blast                 Ranged               DC26 Toughness (Staged)       Damage (Energy)

Nauseate              Ranged               DC21 Fortitude (Staged)       Sickened/Nauseated/Helpless

Snare                 Ranged               DC21 Reflex (Staged)          Entangled/Helpless

 
Totals: Abilities (30) + Combat (20) + Saving Throws (20) + Skills (18) + Feats (26) + Powers (65) - Drawbacks (4) = 175/175 Power Points

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)

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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."