SpicyWaffle

Having had time to mull over the terrible origin of the man known as Negator whilst he toted the hefty cylindrical prison to the scene of the crime, the Bee-Keeper hadn't known before walking into the murderous rampage of the madman now endangering the world was just some poor, unfortunate soul. It was hard for him to imagine how it must have felt to have been contaminated by that 'Contra-Verse' -- a universe that, much to his chagrin, lacked any sort of awesome missile upgrades or a thirty-man one-up code -- and ultimately forced the former genius to turn his brilliance into darker tidings. The way Sky-Lord talked about him, it almost seemed like the man that was once Michael Cunningham still existed in there somewhere; split between a state of malign sycophancy and a well-meaning man simply looking for a cure. When they arrived and Sky-Lord took his leave, the Bee-Keeper dropped off the hulking container right where Ironclad directed him before landing beside her, more than trusting in the intelligent woman's judgement. The scene was horrifying to say the least as Baxter's mind struggled to comprehend the sheer magnitude of what Negator was trying to accomplish; that sickeningly eerie smile still plastered on his face just like when they'd first met only earlier. Indeed, as the entropic man whirled at Jessica's words, Baxter was right there in spirit with his equally-armored colleague: no way this guy could get away with his plans! But, maybe -- just maybe! -- it didn't have to come to violence. "C'mon! You're ripping a hole into zzome zzorta alternate univerzze! Think about how many people you could hurt if you infect the zzity with thizz zztuff," pleaded the Hero of the Hive even as he steadied a gauntlet on the ritual-casting duplicator of the Counter-Verse, trying to pander to his better half; provided it yet still existed. "You've killed a lot of people, Negator! You did zzome terrible zztuff! But it wazzn't your fault; you're not Negator. Beefore you flipped out, you were zzomeone elzze -- you had a name, Mike! Fight it! We can help you if you let uzz; it doezzn't have to go down like thizz!" The Bee-Keeper almost seemed to ease up for a moment, modulated voice filled with sympathy for the afflicted scientist as he paused to let his words sink into the lunatics mind. "Pleazze. Don't make uzz have to hurt you, Mike."

The Bee-Keeper III's Initiative +6: 1d20+6 → [18,6] = (24) Before we get into this fracas, Bee-Keeper's going to -- Le Gasp! -- try and talk reason into the violently delusional lunatic! The Bee-Keeper III's Diplomacy +12: 1d20+12 → [2,12] = (14) --EDIT: That roll is terrible! Spending one of the Bee-Keeper III's HP (down to 3!) to re-roll in an endeavor to not rough up the poor guy who's just gone nanners: 1d20+12 → [16,12] = (28) Failing any sort of peaceful negotiations, Baxter'll fall back on good ol' violence; specifically, he'll ready a Standard Action to attack with his Snare to try and contain Negator without actually causing him physical harm, if that's even possible. The Bee-Keeper III's Snare 11 vs. Negator: 1d20+11 → [20,11] = (31); Natural 20! If Hit, DC26 Reflex Save (DC10 + 11 Snare + 5 Critical).

Face souring as he followed Sky-Lord and Ironclad through the ruined lair, Baxter couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern at the thought of aiding and abetting with a supervillain, even if it was for the greater good. As far as he could tell, the militant official's story held water, and it didn't seem like he'd really have anything to gain if Negator proved successful in his own endeavors -- endeavors, the Bee-Keeper was certain, could not succeed if Sky-Lord was telling the truth. Looking to Jessica, the apiary avenger gave the scientific woman a knowing nod before returning his attention to their former adversary and his auto-gyro. "Guezz we don't have a choizze," the young hero murmured, smacking a balled up fist into the palm of his awaiting hand before unfurling his wings anew in preparation for their impromptu interception. "You juzzt get uzz to Negator, and we'll do our part in getting him put back in that prizzon of yourzz."

Somewhat preoccupied with the sudden incursion of battle-bots flooding the painfully slow-moving elevator, the Bee-Keeper was busy blasting the would-be interlopers encroaching on his ride to offer an immediate response. With a few telltale shots from his gauntlet-mounted weaponry, the first trio of fervent kill-droids being quickly dispatched as they cut their way through the roof of the cargo lift. The floor proved more... problematic, as it were. For a moment, Baxter almost opened fire just as he had before; but the sudden thought of blowing the floor out below himself seemed like a terrible idea, even with the ability to fly. No -- Baxter was already a big, yellow target for the robots already. He didn't need to give them any sort of clear line of fire! "Take your time," the secretive teen hero halfheartedly snarked back through the comm channel as he stomped on one of the robots burrowing up in a vain attempt to get him, sending it and one of its comrades clattering to the bottom of the shaft. "Juzzt zzittin' around, zzappin' robotzz that wanna kill me while thizz elevator goezz zzuper-zzlow! Zzeriouzzly. Zzo zzlow." After another round of blasting and playing whack-a-droid, the Bee-Keeper hailed his colleagues again. "Zztill no zzign of any kind of zzupervillainzz or thizz lazzer; juzzt an awful lot of thezze robotzz. Zzeemzz kind of zzilly that they'd need zzo many of thezze thingzz; they don't exxactly put up much of a fight, y'know?"

Hours of fluttering at the back of the pack had left the corridors filled with the low buzz of the Bee-Keeper's mechanical wings, whilst Baxter himself endeavoring as best as he could muster to keep an eye out for whatever dangers might yet lurk within the Curators' eerily quiet fortress. Yet nothing came up. Hours upon hours of trekking through the brightly lit home of their captor revealed nothing but more robots and relics from another time or another place; but there was little time for amazement or horror, as was appropriate. They were on a mission - and right now, all Baxter wanted was to find that ship and get home. When Harrier next spoke, however, that uncomfortable sensation amidst the silence of the unflinching robots was quickly replaced as Baxter's blood ran cold. "What do you mean zzomeone'zz trying to cut their way through the doorzz?" the Bee-Keeper interjected, voice riddled with as much with frantic disbelief as undiluted shock.

Staring between the man known as Sky-Lord, his doomed soldiers, and Ironclad with a stupefied expression on his face behind the bug-eyed helmet, the Bee-Keeper suddenly felt the weight of the world thrust upon them. Whoever this Michael Cunningham guy was before now, he'd turned into a madman - a profoundly dangerous madman at that, if his ability to incinerate armed soldiers so easily was any indication. Sky-Lord might have been the original villain behind this fiasco, but the sudden shift in priorities left little to the imagination that the man had been forced from his role and recast into that of an ally; at least temporarily. "Zzo how do we zztop him?" the Bee-Keeper asked their imminent ally, his modulated voice sharp and quick as if trying to hurry, though he suspected the man already had the answer. "With zzo many Negatorzz running around, they could be anywhere! We need zzomething; zzome kind of plan to zztop em' all beefore they infect the zzity!"

Looking up to the sky himself, Baxter felt only a mild sense of foreboding at the arrival of the Freedom League now that Fleur de Joie was here. But she was right; hanging out to get into a bout of fisticuffs with them wasn't going to do him any good if he wanted to get these streets cleaned up! "Alright," he finally responded, having idled long enough to feel secure in his own decision as he approached the flower. He trusted his ally and part-time mentor's judgement on this one - he had to, if he didn't want to get clobbered by Captain Thunder and the others! "Zzooner we're outta here, the better!" And with that, the Bee-Keeper strode into the massive floral transport, eager to be on his way. His deeds here were done; wherever Velocity was, it didn't matter. She'd spread the word. Jubatus and Silver Spider probably deserved worse for their treachery, but, perhaps, they were just misguided; unable to comprehend the magnitude of the Bee-Keeper's drive and determination to protect his friends and family from the scourges that plagued Freedom City. Maybe, in time, they would see the light -- he could only hope, lest he be forced to take more drastic measures in their next meeting.

Derp. Sorry. Here's the roll I'd made for Bee-Keeper's save: Bee-Keeper III's Bluff +10 vs. DC31: 1d20+10 → [13,10] = (23)

The Bee-Keeper wasn't far behind as Wander and the others lead the charge, taking up a loftier position so as to provide the air support he'd been assigned. Ready to blast first and ask questions later, Baxter was just as surprised as Harrier and Quickstep as it became increasingly apparent that for all the trouble the Curator had gone through to snag them, there wasn't much resistance waiting for them in his stronghold. In fact, it seemed as though there wasn't any resistance whatsoever! The Hero of the Hive hovered above the scene for a moment as Harrier took in his own analysis, then gently returned to the ground; both relieved and perplexed. "I... I don't know," murmured the still frightened-yet-adrenaline-pumped teen hero back to Dorothy as he looked on at the vaguely humanoid, stationary robots. "Maybee he wazzn't exxpecting uzz? Or maybee you're right, 'Zztep; are you zzure VINZZE brought uzz to the right plazze?" he inquired, panning back to Jill O'Cure and the others. He looked around again, becoming increasingly unnerved by the eerie stillness of the Curator's domicile and its unaware hosts that littered the hangar. Where was the awaiting ambush? The attempted recapture? Something wasn't quite right here; Baxter could feel it in his gut. "Thizz feelzz weird. Zzeriouzzly, izz anyone elzze weirded out by how off thizz plazze izz?" he whispered, relaxing his stance only slightly as the droids just stood still; frozen in whatever their business had been and keenly unaware of the groups presence. "It'zz like we juzzt don't exizzt." With that, the Bee-Keeper fluttered up cautiously towards one of the immobile robots nearest to the group, giving it a slight and subtle poke with his finger before recoiling in anticipation of some sort of alarm or countermeasure. Just as Harrier said, nothing happened - not even a twitch! "Okay. Kind of creepy," he whispered again, pausing a moment to collect himself as he re-entered the fold of his comrades. "I guezz... I guezz we juzzt look for a zzhip to get uzz back home. Doezzn't look like thezze robotzz are going to do anything to zztop uzz. What do you guyzz think?"

"Greeeeeat," drawled the Bee-Keeper as he continued blasting his way through the throngs of roboticized infantry. Now he had to contend with the fact there were regular Joes working in the warehouse, let alone something else much more nefarious potentially lurking further in. Suddenly, Baxter felt like he was trapped in one of those cheesy light gun rail shooters, forced to differentiate from friend and foe whilst being caught in the ensuing crossfire. Unfortunately, that analogy was pretty spot on, as the slew of automatons didn't seem interested giving up, their ranks constantly replenished every time Baxter laid the last group low. "Not zzeing any kinda rocketzz or anything yet. Guezz I'll juzzt follow the trail of murderouzz killbotzz. They've gotta be coming from zzomewhere, right? Find the zzourzze, find the zzecret doomzzday lazzer." Sure enough, the Bee-Keeper did just that, blasting and frying his way past a dozen more droids armed with blaster rifles as he meandered through the warehouse, idly watching how the normal humans who stood by in stark silence or ran away screaming differed from the incognito vicious automatons. There were more than he'd thought, though the number of automated seek-and-destroy robots were far and away more prevalent. In due time, the Bee-Keeper stumbled across what had to be how the robots were getting back into the warehouse: a large cargo elevator! "Hey. Think I found zzomething here. Zzome kinda elevator," he murmured over the commlink even as he blasted the last remaining 'bots poised inside the shaft itself. "Pretty zzure it'zz where thezze zztupid robotzz are coming from." Stepping into the cargo elevator and scoping it out for any remaining hostilities, Baxter snooped around for the control button. Sure enough, there it was, plain as day. Giving it a firm push with his pointer finger, the Hero of the Hive was eager to see where all these wannabe badniks were coming from. He had to of at least been on the right track!

Blinking in disbelief as the Sky-Lord made his magnificent appearance after dispatching the remaining Negator clone, the Bee-Keeper's gratitude quickly shifted full-swing into skepticism as the familiar man from the hologram informed he and Jessica of the truth: that this was his base of operations! He was the one responsible for the attack on Dawes Tech! It took him some measure of tongue-biting to refrain from aiming the armor's blaster at the man who'd just saved their lives... but at what cost? "Alright. Zzpill it!" demanded the Bee-Keeper, turning to Jessica even as he clenched his fists in anticipation for the hairdryer-toting militant to renew the rumble. "Who wazz that guy? And why'd you zzend your goonzz to attack thozze tech buildingzz?!"

Of all the people in all the places in Freedom City, the Bee-Keeper honestly wasn't expecting Fleur de Joie to show up on the scene! He recoiled only slightly when she emerged from the brush, startling him and diverting his attention from his intended target. He was half expecting Fleur to just wrap him up and throw him to the wolves - or the prison, or whatever it was she did with individuals she deemed dangerous! - but, much to his earnest surprise, seemed to be all too forward with helping his cause! "Yezz! Yezz!" agreed the Bee-Keeper, smacking a heavy handed fist into his other open palm for dynamic effect. "Finally! Zzomeone who underzztandzz!" What a relief! For a moment, Baxter thought he'd have to square off against one of his closest and dearest friends! The thought itself was mortifying enough, let alone to have been forced to actually go through with it. And now, with an insider in the League, maybe she could help him get the word out to the streets! But then his optimism took a nosedive at Fleur's plea to assist him, what with the Freedom League on the way. For a moment, Baxter almost seemed to panic. Fighting a bunch of regulars was one thing, but the entire Freedom League?! That was a bit much, even for the Bee-Keeper! "Oh, no! No, no, no!" the heavily armored hero murmured, looking around for a moment as if debating an escape route before visibly tensing up and growing agitated. That chick! She must have called them in! Thankfully, the green-haired heroine was one step ahead. Boy, was Baxter glad to have a friend in Fleur. "Alright, alright. Zzoner we get outta here, the zzooner we can get back to zzweeping the zztreetzz clean," he buzzed with enthusiasm, striking up a new, suitably dramatic pose at this twist of fate.

What does the Bee-Keeper know? Perhaps he knows... THE EVERYTHING?! Knowledge (Technology) +6: 1d20+6 → [1,6] = (7) - The Internet is a series of tubes! Maybe. Notice +8: 1d20+8 → [5,8] = (13)

Distracted by the speedster's taunt for only a moment, it nearly cost the Bee-Keeper as Silver Spider let loose another assault against the aggressive apiary avenger. Just barely pulling his frame out of the way, the Hero of the Hive whirled around to meet his wounded adversary, blaster at the ready as it hummed with lethal energy. It seemed inevitable that the Bee-Keeper was going to return fire as his armored palm glowed maliciously, his retribution swift and terrible. But it never came. For whatever reason, the Bee-Keeper lowered his armament and simply stared on, his insect-like facade as cold and unflinching as it had ever been. "You're not even worth it, friend," he chided through that modulated voice of his as though he were truly scorned by the turncoat antics of his former allies, turning instead towards where Velocity had scampered off to. "Get outta here. Run along and tell your buddiezz what happened. Tell em' that thizz zzity won't zztand for criminalzz anymore. Tell em' that the Bee-Keeper izz coming for them nexxt." Taking to the skies anew, the Bee-Keeper gave chase after his quick-footed colleague turned counter-agent, his ire irked even more from her quaint jib. He was most certainly not a Bee-Zero! And bees were great! He'd just have to show her! After losing sight of his quarry - much to his dismay! - the Bee-Keeper plopped himself down in the park, surveying the area for his missing target. "Hey! I know you're here! Zzeriouzzly, juzzt zzurrender, and I won't go zzo bad on you for dizzin' beezz!" he barked in futility in a halfhearted endeavor to stall for time. "And what'zz wrong with a bee-theme, huh?! Lookzz to me like you're zzcared of a little zzting for being zzuch a brave and bold hero who can't zzee that thizz izz the only way to purge Freedom Zzity of it'zz criminal zzcum! Juzzt think about it! How much zzafer would it bee if there wazz no more crime, huh? We wouldn't even need zzuperheroezz anymore! No more muggingzz, or zzhootingzz. That'zz why thozze bikerzz had to go, man! Juzzt too dangerouzz."

Alrighty, so... Move Action: Bee-Keeper III'll fly to the park in pursuit of Velocity until he loses sight of her, then land on ground level. Standard Action: None. He's just standing there, ya goofs!

Maybe it was the shock from the sudden smacking. Perhaps it was the way Jill O'Cure plainly laid out the facts with clinical precision. Yet still, it could have solely been the conviction behind them, or some amalgam of all three. Regardless, the young Bee-Keeper couldn't help but take the doctor's words to heart, clinging to her every syllable like some sycophantic puppy. Maybe she was right. Maybe behind that morose exterior, a mind mired in doubt, and that beleaguered, exhausted shell that composed Baxter Bowles, there was still something more. Something... undefinable. With a grim nod of silent determination, the Bee-Keeper felt himself at least somewhat reaffirmed in his beliefs. He needed to take charge of his own situation - he was, after all, a superhero! Being a superhero didn't stop him from growing incredibly red in the face though when Jill popped her next query. Indeed, Baxter almost opened his mouth, ready to say something either in his defense or actually answer, but at the last moment, serendipity struck as VINCE interrupted the awkward pow-wow. They were here; and it was time to put an end to this nightmare. Standing up from the corner he'd managed to procure, the dark-skinned teenager called on the Bee-Keeper armor one more time. Whatever was on the other side of the cargo ship's doors was the Curator's mecca of his nefarious plans; and Baxter was going to be damned if he didn't get some answers and a way off of this Ringworld he'd been conscripted to. Armored up and eager to see this through to the end, the Bee-Keeper looked on to his colleagues, gauging their response to VINCE's announcement even as he maneuvered his way to the door that would lead them all into the Curator's inner sanctum. He gave one final glance over his shoulder, taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves before facing the hatch. "Make it zzo, Number One."

Bee-Keeper III's Reflex +9 vs. DC18: 1d20+9 → [19,9] = (28) Guess I'll hold off so Azuth can get a post in :)

"Jezz!" Baxter yelped, both concerned and shocked the scientific young lady had been struck so thunderously by the self-replicating Negator. This was bad. He'd thrown all his weight against the throng of murderous cads, and they'd all been one step ahead; tumbling, rolling, and leaping over and under the Bee-Keeper's attempt to dethrone them all within the underground lair. Things only got worse as a multitude of the clones disappeared up the elevator shaft, severing the wire and causing them to rocket upwards. "Who is this guy?!" Switching gears when it became clear brute force wasn't going to get him anywhere, the Bee-Keeper whirled around from where he'd been forced to a stop, his own blaster at the ready. She was on to something: there were a lot of these guys, and the duo needed to deal with them quick before any more could make a break for it! Raising his hand defiantly, the Bee-Keeper let loose a flurry of rapid-fire shots towards the pair of doppelgangers in retribution!

Hum. Let's try this again... Bee-Keeper III will use his Autofire Blast 10 to target the remaining two Negator Duplicates (since I think there's only two remaining, and the rest beat a retreat up the elevator shaft). He'll shift through All-Out Attack (+5 Attack/-5 Defense) with Power Attack (+5 Damage/-5 Attack) when he makes his rolls. Total Attack +11 (11 Base + 5 All-Out Attack - 5 Power Attack), Total Damage DC30 (15 Base + 10 Blast + 5 Power Attack) if hit. Full-Round Action: Autofire Blast 10 vs. Negator Duplicate #1 and Negator Duplicate #2. Bee-Keeper III's Autofire Blast 10 vs. Negator Duplicate #1: 1d20+11 → [15,11] = (26); DC30 Toughness Save if Hit. Bee-Keeper III's Autofire Blast 10 vs. Negator Duplicate #2: 1d20+11 → [17,11] = (28); DC30 Toughness Save if Hit.

Hanging on to my post until it's confirmed Azuth doesn't want to spend a Hero Point to negate Silver Spider's Dazed condition :)

Having piled in and de-armored almost immediately after the ship had freed itself from the orbit on its path with destiny, Baxter had plenty of time to think about what he was going to do when he got home. So many things came to mind; and each one seemed more important than the last as they drifted along their course. It had been quite the ride up to that point, between waking up in an apocalyptic Freedom City, the miscommunication with Dorothy, Harrier, Jill and Wander, and his regrouping with a former ally in Blue Jay. Trying to busy himself was something that felt almost alien. Baxter had no skills to hone, per se, nor colorful anecdotes to share. He was morose, worn-out, and irked in every sense of the word; a teenager ripped from his element alongside Dorothy and thrust into a situation he had no control over - a sensation that left him feeling vulnerable and weak by comparison to almost everyone else present. He'd been content to mostly sit and sulk in his own thoughts until Wander prodded him. For a moment, it seemed like Baxter hadn't heard her, eyes downcast and sullen. Before long, though, he mustered a response, though he still continued to stare at the floor of the Curator's space-faring vessel. "First thing?" he repeated like a parrot, eyebrows arched as he struggled to find the right words. "First thing is if we've been, y'know, replaced like Dorothy? I'm gonna punch my other smug self right in the face. I'm gonna punch it till' it stops being me," began the disillusioned teen boy, his voice surprisingly monotone and flat despite the intense inflection. "After that? I don't know. See my parents, probably. Spill the beans; tell em' the truth about why I've been failing all my classes. Tell them I've been out playing hero and stuff. Haha, man! Are they gonna be mad!" Baxter laughed, though it remained almost distant in his voice, rife with exhaustion. Running a hand through his hair, the dark-skinned teen cocked his head a little, as if debating momentarily on his next course of action after he got home. "Then... then I'm gonna hang up the armor. It was a good run, y'know? Got a chance to live the dream for almost a year. But this is just... this whole thing just puts stuff in perspective, I guess," the Bee-Keeper bemoaned, trailing off for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. "Maybe after all that, I'll finally talk to that cute foreign girl who I take this class with. But, y'know, baby steps. Have to avoid getting killed and get back home first, I guess."

Following Ironclad's lead, the Bee-Keeper differentiated from the plan only slightly; choosing to enter the rear side of the building by plummeting through the roof just as Jessica had before him. Hitting the ground with a decidedly coarse thump, the Bee-Keeper brazenly surveyed the inner workings of the warehouse -- much to his surprise, it looked like it was only full of regular working Joes in blue overalls moving crates. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he had the wrong place all together, and this was just a wild goose chase. At least, that's what he thought until a pair of automatons stepped out from behind some of the concealing crates, the clacking of metal against tiled floors rattling through the Bee-Keeper's ears as they began opening fire on him! "Holy crap!" shouted Baxter through the shared commlink even as he was being pelted by blasts of energy, seeking cover from the metallic overlords encroaching on him before he had a chance to properly snoop around. "Izz anyone elzze zzeeing thezze robot thingzz? Why izz it alwayzz robot thingzz?!" Dipping out from behind his impromptu cover, the Hero of the Hive returned fire, pelting the pair of harassing androids with his own high-powered blasts as they crumpled to the ground. But just as soon as they had been dealt with, then the laborers unfurled their dastardly armaments - they were all packing! Dipping back behind the safety of the partially disintegrated crates again to avoid the return fire, the Bee-Keeper bemoaned his situation anew. "Zzeriouzzly. Zzo many robotzz!" Between bouts of the robotic adversaries' stream of firepower, Baxter leaned over from his delicate cover to scope out the scene more thoroughly, picking off the androids one at a time as they became readily available. Before too long, the dozen or so automatons lied in ruins on the floor. He was sort of underwhelmed - sure, there had been a lot of them, but they folded like cheap plastic lawn chairs with just a few potshots. There had to be something here other than just a bunch of murderous robots.

Bee-Keeper III's Toughness Save +13 (+14 - 1 Bruise) vs. DC32: 1d20+13 → [19,13] = (32); Success! Seriously. I don't know what it is with these dice, since Invisible Castle usually hates me. I'm assuming Velocity's gonna sock him again, so I'll go ahead and roll his next Toughness Save preemptively under the assumption she'll hit again. Bee-Keeper III's Toughness Save +13 (+14 - 1 Bruise) vs. DC32: 1d20+13 → [17,13] = (30)

Watching as Gabriel took off down the skyline of Freedom City, Baxter was left momentarily to ponder his words; confusion and disbelief about faeries and demons notwithstanding. The theme was certainly disconcerting, and perhaps Gabriel was right: maybe there was an ulterior motive from these guys, and they had it out for the Bee-Keeper! With a sigh, Baxter could only struggle at the concept of being targeted for reasons unknown. It didn't make any sense. But whether it was coincidence or a conspiracy, it didn't make any difference - at least not right now. The Bee-Keeper had to focus; finish up this patrol super-quick, then back home before his parents were none the wiser! Taking a deep breath, the Hero of the Hive steeled his nerves before taking off into the night sky and back towards Bayview. Hopefully he could give his home turf a quick sweep, and then a nice, long sleep; and a chance to process the odd yet strangely fortuitous meeting. Besides, tomorrow was going to be another busy day. It always was.

Surveying the destruction of the mall along with Cobalt Templar, Baxter couldn't help but wince behind his helmet. The place was in tatters and littered with ninjas; with the police on their way, hopefully they'd have better luck figuring out what their agenda was... but that didn't mean he wanted to be around when they showed up, especially when it was technically their fault Millennium Mall wasn't looking so good! "Zzoundzz like a deal," nodded the Bee-Keeper in wholesome agreement, taking the phone number and stuffing it into a small compartment embedded in his wrist. Unfurling his wings with a sharp whoosh of air, the Bee-Keeper fluttered above the floor for a moment, peering towards the trio of ninja wannabes whom had lead this little exercise. Who were they, and what did you want? Why the mall? And why wasps? So many questions left unanswered; but it was time to skedaddle. "Catch you later, Co'!" he chimed, giving his associate a mock salute. In a rush of energy, the Hero of the Hive blurred through Millennium Mall, out the door, and up into air, not even bothering to retrieve the puke green backpack he'd used to conceal the compacted armor as the Bee-Keeper rocketed away from the scene of the crime. Right now, he just wanted to get gone; after all, this was twice that some wasp-themed shenanigans had come up, and both times the Bee-Keeper was present. Things were starting to look fishy, but for now, Baxter was content in the thought that he and his new pal had thumped their aggressors soundly... But would it be the last time?