Re-Gifting (IC)

[Raveled]

Ironclad grinned behind her helmet. "I wasn't scared," she said. "I was excited. I'd designed every system on the suit myself. Heck, I built more a few parts by hand, to keep a secret! It was the most complicated thing I'd ever built, and I was so happy when it worked right." Her expression grew darker. "And I'll be damned if I let someone who lairs under a war monument rip apart the company that helped me make it."

By that time they were almost directly over the park. Ironclad put herself into a steep dive, arrowing in towards the river. She switched her sonar to active pinging and quickly mapped the riverbed, then pulled up at the last second to slice a furrow into the top of the water, raising a rooster tail pointing directly at the monument. It wasn't just flashy: it also raised a hell of a lot of silt and muck off the bottom of the river, making it almost impossible to see under the water. Ironclad's sonar allowed her to pinpoint the steel door set into the side of the river, though, and she directed power away from her thrusters and towards the suit's servo-muscles as she approached it. Gripping one edge, she set her feet and pulled, slowly bending the thick steel of the door out of true and letting a torrent of water flood the dark space behind.

Ironclad pinged the darkened space one more time, before plunging in.

[SpicyWaffle]

Impressed by Jessica's technical know-how, Baxter couldn't help but feel somewhat inspired by her. Building a battlesuit from scratch couldn't have been easy, and it was understandable why she was so upset about whoever-these-guys-were for attacking what amounted to something immensely important to her. This was about more than just catching the bad guys and putting them in jail; at least, as far as Baxter could tell. They'd struck a nerve with Ironclad, and in return they'd have her ire.

But now came the moment of truth as the duo touched down on the silt-splashed riverbed, the far more mechanically-inclined young woman tore the steel door asunder with tremendous might. The torrent of water was just a precursor for the dive ahead; a thought that marginally unnerved the Bee-Keeper, given the weight of his trusty battle armor.

"Here goezz nothin'," he said aloud to no one but himself, taking a deep breath as he plunged into the depths of the river, following along with the leader of this little investigation.

[Raveled]

Ironclad lead the way into the darkness under the water. It turned out to be a single huge room, the wash of water into the space causing a vortex in the river above it until a massive steel door ground closed over the opening. Sodium lights burst into light, letting the heroes see a large, open box, big enough to hold a couple of the metal spheres that had attacked Dawes Tech.

The room was empty now, though. Ironclad checked her sensorium again, but the only things moving were her, the Bee-Keeper, and the water draining out the side. She turned in a slow circle, despite the total view her suit's sensors gave her. "This doesn't make any sense," she muttered. "This room is too small for the attack force from earlier. Do they have hangers all around the state?"

The heroine's question was answered when the entire room lurched and the walls began to rise. Or rather, the room went down -- the entire thing was a giant elevator car! A form flickered to life in the middle of the car, at least ten feet high; an older man wearing what could pass for military dress, staring down his nose at the pair of heroes. "I should have known, when my attack squadron didn't return, that something like this would happen. Delinquents, coming in here without any idea of what's at stake and seeking to punish a man of vision because he bruised your ego." He sniffed. "Troublemakers. When the histories of this day are written, you shall be but a footnote on my rise to gr--"

The voice cut out suddenly, even as the image kept monologuing in silence. Ironclad looked over at the Bee-Keeper and shrugged. The pair didn't have long to ponder the silence, however, as the elevator car lurched suddenly, then dropped out from under their feet. The armored heroine fired her jets and hung in the air for a moment, then slowly descended towards the bottom of the shaft.

The shaft opened out into a wide assembly area, lit by hanging sodium lights. Bodies in paramilitary uniforms littered the space, some burning and some merely laying still. A man stood in the middle of the space, grinning a mad grin as the heroes descended to his level. He was a bit shorter than Baxter, dressed in a white jumpsuit with pockets all over it. All in all he looked like a rather inoffensive, slightly geeky sort; expect that half his body was shrouded in black energy, the edges of his body outlined in red. And the blood on his hands and splashed across his chest, that was a bit off-putting.

The half-red man grinned at the heroes, he smiled a little too wide for sanity. "Oh, goody goody," he said. "Two new little toys for the Negator to play with. And they brought the elevator down with them! How nice of you. Perhaps I'll burn your heads first before consuming the rest of you!"

[SpicyWaffle]

When the elevator gave way, the Bee-Keeper wasn't quite as on-the-ball as Ironclad. With its sudden drop, so too did he, thumping off of the ground with a loud thud. Thankfully, Baxter was a plucky fella, bouncing back (more or less) from the startling descent just in time to see the carnage strewn out all over the much larger secret base. And there, of all things, was the monster responsible - it could be no other from where Baxter stood, eyes wide in shock and horror at the blood and burnt bodies.

"What... what'd you do?!!" he barked, less out of shock and more out of obvious anger. There was a line when it came to dealing with people; every villain he'd met up until now had at least had standards. But here, where the ground was stained red and the air reeked of burnt flesh, that line had been crossed. "Thezze guyzz... they're..."

Trailing off, the Bee-Keeper clenched his fists in sheer anger. He didn't know who these people were. He didn't care. Good, bad... they were dead now. Dead because of this guy who so smugly challenged he and Ironclad. This monster whom had just earned the Bee-Keeper III's undivided ire.

"I don't care who you are, you crazzed lunatic! But I promizze, I'm gonna make you pay for your crimezz againzzt thezze people!"

[Raveled]

The Negator giggled chillingly. "So many promises to destroy, so little time. Oh, I know! Let me bring some friends!" He threw his arms open wide and the red half of his body exploded, engulfing the entire room for one chilly moment. When it passed, Negator was standing there just like before... As was Negator, and Negator, and even Negator! Nearly a dozen of the giggling blue-clad maniacs, all of them identical in every manner. "Now, let's have some fun before all the worlds end!" With that they all rushed forward towards the heroes.

[SpicyWaffle]

"You're on, you pzzycho!" barked the Bee-Keeper angrily, pointing a finger towards the gaggle of Negator doppelgangers with dedicated vim and determination.

Clenching both of his fists, the Hero of the Hive unfurled his wings anew with a sharp flick of metal-on-metal, beating them against the air in a flurry of activity. He wasn't about to give those murderous clones a chance to wreak havoc on them - or anyone else! Buzzing towards them, the Bee-Keeper put his shoulder to the macabre madmen whom had since flooded the underground lair, swirling across the room in a maelstrom of raw, unchecked force in an endeavor to bring each and every one of the Negators reeling to the ground.

[Raveled]

The armored apian avenger charged the massed ranks of Negators, but they proved too fast for him, dodging aside or rolling over him. Ironclad had a similar brute force attack in mind, as she floated in the air and louvers on the armor's back and shoulders opened up. Missiles streaked out, a cloud of them targeting a group of clones that had separated slightly from the pack. They exploded all around the recidivist replicas, but when the smoke cleared they were unharmed. "Totally unfair," Ironclad muttered to herself as she mentally flipped through other attack options.

The mob of murders mimics surged past the heroes, scrambling instead for the elevator's cables. They latched onto them in groups of twos and threes, then started sawing away at them with red beams that evaporated the braided steel cables! Before long the lines began to part and the groups rocketed to the surface. Meanwhile, two of the clones split off from the group and began firing at the heroes, red and black beams bouncing Ironclad around inside her suit!

[SpicyWaffle]

"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!

[Raveled]

Bee-Keeper's blasts struck one Negator and he tumbled, decohering and vanishing in a spray of red and black particles. But as the hero tried to walk the blasts over, he found it increasingly difficult to handle the recoil and the second clone managed to duck under the beams. He sneered up at the heroes, which prompted Ironclad to divert power to her suit's servo muscles and swoop into hand-to-hand combat with him. She managed to land a good chop to the knock-off's neck, to he merely staggered up the blow and then straightened, smiling evilly. And then screamed as he dispersed into a red-black fog.

Striding across the room was an older man in pseudo-military dress, aiming something that looked like a hairdryer at the spot where the Negator clone had been a moment ago. In fact it was the exact same man whose hologram had berated them in the elevator on the ride down! He holstered the hairdryer and nodded at the heroes, apparently unconcerned at the two armored heroes before him. "Hello, and welcome to my base," he said. "I am the Sky-Lord. Would you like to know how you can save the world today?"

[SpicyWaffle]

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?!"

[Raveled]

Sky.Lord didn't seem at all put out by facing two armed and armored heroes armed only with a weird gun. "Michael Cunningham," he said, speaking expansively, "is a genius, especially when it comes to inter-dimensionally travel. He encountered a place no one else did before, called the Counter-Verse."

"I heard about that," Ironclad said, intrigued despite herself. "It's a photo negative universe, where colors are reversed and people speak backwards."

"Exactly," the Sky-Lord said. "Unfortunately his contact left him contaminated with the stuff of the Contra-Verse, and quite mad. He became obsessed with curing himself, with siphoning off the stuff or the other universe.

He came to me few weeks ago with a plan to draw it off and contain it, but he needed help getting the parts he needed. I have--" He stopped, clenching his teeth, and for the first time looked anything other than in control. He looked mad. "I had soldiers, and a use for a weapon that could destroy any matter from this universe that it came in contact with."

"That's why you attacked Dawes Tech," Ironclad growled.

Sky-Lord raised an eyebrow. "Would you have sold it to me? Yes, I tried to take it. But not too long after the soldiers left, Cunningham went mad. He started referring to himself as Negator and rearranged the machinery that was supposed to cure him. Instead, it supercharged him and he started to... infect my base, killing everyone in the engineering sector. I managed to stop it, but now he intends to open a portal to the Counter-Verse, and infect the entire world -- or at least enough to create a reaction with the remaining matter and destroy the world."

[SpicyWaffle]

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!"

[Raveled]

"My remaining scientist is convinced that the clones Negator creates are not true entities. They are swarms of Counter-Versal energy, given form and image by Negator's will. Only the original can open the portal, because only he has the proper mix of Counter-Verse matter and matter from our universe. If the original can be captured, then the others will cease to exist."

"And I suppose you have something that will let us catch Negator and keep him contained," Ironclad said.

"Of course. I can't very well conquer the world if it gets blown up by some mad-man." Sky-Lord lead the heroes through the base. Ironclad tried to shut out the occasional scene of carnage; a bloody body draped over a table, a pair of legs in a corner minus a torso, a silhouette burned into the wall in the shape of a man. In time the group came to a control room separated from a bay by a sheet of toughened glass. The glass had been melted and cracked by some intense heat, and while the Sky-Lord used a door to enter the area Ironclad boosted through the hole on her jets.

Inside was a large glass-and-steel cylinder, easily big enough to hold a man. "If you can get Negator in here," Sky-Lord said, "you can shut his powers down, at least long enough to get him to Blackstone."

Ironclad walked all the way around the device. "And do you have some way of finding Negator? Besides following the trail of destruction he's no doubt creating already."

"Of course I do," Sky-Lord replied smoothly. He walked over to another door and stepped through; moments later the wall folded away to show the Sky-Lord at the controls of a small auto-gyro. "Just follow," he said. "I'll take you straight to the Negator."

Ironclad sighed. Teaming up with a supervillain wasn't how she had expected this day to go, but it seemed the only option that this juncture.

[SpicyWaffle]

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."

[Raveled]

The Sky-Lord's auto-gyro revved up and one entire wall of the room folded away, to reveal a tunnel sloping upwards. Ironclad eyed it and then, sighing, flew up to the top of the glass cylinder and grabbed ahold. She waited until the Bee-Keeper had anchored himself similarly, and then the pair hauled the tube into the tunnel, and up and into the sky.

The Sky-Lord followed them, quickly zipping out front, working at a console inside the small craft. In a few minutes he came over the radio. "I found Negator a few miles inland," he said. "No clones with him, but I'm getting reports of scattered criminal activity throughout Orange and Pike counties."

"He's moved them into New York and Pennsylvania," Ironclad observed. "He doesn't want anyone to interrupt what he's doing, so his clones are running interference."

"He shouldn't be able to communicate with his clones at a distance," Sky-Lord said. "If we don't let him get away, we should be able to end this here and now."

The unlikely alliance followed the Negator's signal, until they could see him; a figure on the ground engaged in some weird ritual. It looked like he had a hole in mid-air that he was pulling on and stretching, slowly pulling it bigger and bigger. "I'll leave this to you," Sky-Lord said, and sharply veered away from the portal. Ironclad sighed and directed the Bee-Keeper to put the cylinder down about a hundred feet from the Negator and his portal.

Then she flew over and stood in the air, jets flaring. "Negator," she called out. The man turned and smiled at her crazily. "You're crazy plans aren't going to succeed. We'll make sure of that!"

[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."

[Raveled]

"Mike? Mike?" Negator looked up in confusion for a moment, and then he fell to his knees, clutching his head. "I don't kn-kn-know what youuuuuuu're AHHHHHH!" He slammed his head into the ground, hard, and looked up at the flying heroes, confusion and terror writ across his face along with the blood streaming from his forehead. When he spoke his voice was quieter and more controlled. "What... what's happening? Where's the base?"

"Michael Cunningham?" Ironclad lowered herself to the ground gingerly, not sure if this was a trick or not. "Cunningham, you kind of... lost control."

He climbed to his feet shakily. "Was it... was it Mahgninnuc?" He looked around and spotted the portal, already as big as a man's head. "Oh no, it was Negator. He got out again, didn't he?"

[SpicyWaffle]

Biting his lip at the horrific sight of Negator inflicting bodily harm against himself, the Bee-Keeper grew deathly silent as the man known as Michael Cunningham reemerged from the shattered remnants of his fractured mind. The poor man was bleeding profusely from his head, and his weary, concerned response made it clear that at least for the moment he was in control of his senses. Despite that breakthrough, though, there wasn't a lot of time with that head-sized hole hanging above the scene -- Baxter and Jessica needed to get this situation under control, especially if the remaining Negator clones were still running amok.

"Yeah," Baxter began, walking closer towards the mentally displaced victim and lowering his own armaments and giving the newly liberated Mike a chance to regain his senses.

"Lizzten, Mike: thingzz are bad. There're a bunch of you - a bunch of Negatorzz - runnin' around all over the plazze, making a mezz of thingzz while you've been working on thizz hole into the Contra-Verzze," explained the Bee-Keeper, motioning towards the ominous tear hanging above them. "We talked to Zzky-Lord, and we think we can help you - me and Ironclad, I mean. But beefore we can, we need you to help uzz. We brought thizz container thing; it can keep you in-check and zztop the other Negatorzz while we get you to a doctor..."

The Bee-Keeper paused for a moment, turning to the pretty scientist hidden behind the layers of protective armor for a moment as an equally pressing thought entered his mind.

"... but I don't know if getting you in there'll zztop thizz rift to the Counter-Verzze. I have, like, no idea how to clozze it down. But you're an expert on thizz, Mike -- you know how. Unlezz you're totally zzure zzhutting your powerzz down izz going to put a zztop to it, we need you to clozze it beefore it zztartzz infecting the zzity. We can't rizzk juzzt leaving it here, y'know?"

[Raveled]

"I can... I can feel it in my gut." Cunningham held his head with one hand and his stomach with the other. He stumbled away from it and the portal began to shrink -- slowly, almost imperceptibly without instruments, but as Cunningham got farther away from the hole it was closing up. The armored heroes helped him over to the holding tank, and into it. The controls were simple to understand for someone of Ironclad's intellect, and within moments the machinery bolted onto the cylinder was humming. A quick check confirmed that the hole was gone, and Ironclad let herself relax. It seemed like all of this was finally over. All they had to do was deliver the cylinder to Blackstone and hand over Cunningham, and she could put this whole mess behind her.

And then the Sky Lord came shooting out of the sky in his auto-gyro. A grapple line spat from the machine and fixed itself to an anchor point on the top of the cylinder, and he was suddenly towing it into the sky. "My sincere gratitude," he transmitted over the common link. "I doubt I would have been able to subdue the Negator myself! Now hurry off, children, we have much to discuss in private."

[SpicyWaffle]

Awash with relief, the Bee-Keeper was glad that this whole deal was slowly but surely being put to rest. With Negator in his cylindrical prison and the absolution of the eerie portal to the Counter-Verse sealed behind them, it seemed like everything was easily falling into place for once. All they had to do now was escort Mike back to Blackstone in hopes of finding him some treatment, and then the search would be on for the Sky-Lord.

Or it would have been, if Sky-Lord hadn't come flitting out of the sky in his auto-gyro at the last moment, snatching he and Ironclad's victory right out from in front of them!

"Hey! Zztop!!" barked the Bee-Keeper, unsurprised yet nonetheless angered by the traitorous actions of the militant mastermind fading into the distance atop his steel whirligig. That Negator... he seemed incredibly unstable. He was like a ticking time-bomb, only kept in-check by the makeshift prison the Sky-Lord had provided. But to what nefarious end was he dragging poor Mike to now?

"We've gotta zztop him beefore he getzz away! We promizzed Mike we'd help!" the Bee-Keeper buzzed as he whirled to face Ironclad, fists clenched in both ire and determination in capturing their original foe. Without even waiting for a response, metal wings unhinged themselves with a sharp shwick of rushing air, and in no time the yellow-and-black apiary avenger was airborne, giving chase to the man in the mechanical marvel who'd so brazenly assisted them and then swiped their attendee away. No way was Baxter going to let that stand; especially after he promised he'd get the man once known as Negator assistance!

[Raveled]

As the Sky Lord flew off in a rush of rotors, the gun attached to the belly of his flying machine swiveled back and tried to lay down some kind of suppressing fire on the two heroes. However the range and the fact that both were pretty much bullet-proof meant that it was almost completely ineffectual, and moments later Ironclad sprang into the air, jetting after the auto-gyro.

"No way you're escaping with Cunningham," Ironclad said. "BK didn't talk him down just for you to lock him up in another one of your lairs!" She grabbed the steel cord tethering the containment unit to the machine and gave it a hard yank. The auto-gyro fell several inches and cable spool was pulled out of the guts of the machine another inch or so, but neither were coming down after only one attack.

[SpicyWaffle]

Buzzing along like a storm unleashed as the hail of gunfire bounced harmlessly off of the Bee-Keeper's metallic carapace, Baxter as far too busy gritting his teeth at Sky-Lord's escaping auto-gyro to come up with a witty one-liner. He was mad -- perhaps, one might even say, down-right vengeful! While he hadn't thought Sky-Lord a man willing to turn over a new leaf, Baxter had quietly hoped that he was a man who wasn't willing to risk more of his people against Negator, or seek some sort of retribution against him for his uncontrolled outburst. Apparently, the man had learned nothing since his attack on Dawes Tech.

No way Sky-Lord was making off with Mike! Not on the Bee-Keeper's life!

Ironclad was already busy ripping out the guts of the 'copter in her endeavor to liberate the absconding Mister Cunningham, but they needed something; an ace in the hole. That's when the Bee-Keeper remembered in what felt like forever that he actually had something other than a giant metal glove that shot lasers! Taking up a position above Sky-Lord, his flying contraption, and Jessica as she maneuvered to free the morally-returned Negator, Baxter looked to solve a practical problem with a practical solution, banking not only on Ironclad's superior strength to hold the beastly mechanism aloft, but on his own as well -- at least, presuming he could catch it in time if things went south! Stretching his other armed gauntlet out, the yellow-and-gold avenger let loose a spray of what looked like synthetic honey; aiming not for the man behind the yoke but the propeller itself!

This was either an incredibly clever idea, or an immensely stupid one. Time would only tell!

[Raveled]

Fortune favored the Bee-Keeper, and his sticky honey struck the rotors' hub. Almost immediately they seized, and the forward momentum of the auto-gyro began to become downward momentum. In fact, one might almost say it was falling.. Thankfully Ironclad noticed the wrinkle in the plan and routed power to her suit's servo muscles, hauling back on the steel line in her hand. The aircraft swung on the line like a pendulum, swinging below Cunningham's nullification unit and smashing nose-first into a tree!

Ironclad parted the cable with another wrench and, holding them apart, lowered both pieces to the ground. Inside the cockpit, the Sky Lord struggled against his restraints, one arm bent back on itself in a sickening manner. "Foolish, interfering children," he grumbled as he beat back flames with his good hand. "I should never have tried to... tried toooooooawwwwwNNNNNN!" Ironclad had started towards the cockpit but stopped herself as the flames rose and the old man's face literally melted, revealing a skull of burnished steel. The Sky Lord had been nothing more than a robot? He must have made the switch back at the base -- maybe it had never even been him in the auto-gyro at all!

Cunningham moaned in his cell and Ironclad turned to him, forcing speculation about duplicate supervillains out of her head. "I'm getting... a headache," Cunningham said, clutching his bloody temple. Ironclad met Bee-Keeper's eyes (or as best she could when her own face was a blank metal mask) and the pair took ahold of the tube once more, hauling it into the sky and making a beeline to Blackstone.

Ironclad phoned ahead and federal agents were waiting at the dock to accept their burden. The armored heroine exchanged a few words with the head guard and turned away from the imposing black edifice, suppressing a shudder. There but for the grace of God, after all... She led Bee-Keeper back into the city and set down on the top of the WNRQ building.

Her helmet folded away and Jessica let the cold air blow past her face for a long minute. Finally she turned and extended a hand to the Bee-Keeper. "Thank you," she said. "This entire thing took entirely too long, but without your help, it could have gone a lot worse." She remembered the portal in the forest, pulsing with energy waiting to destroy the world, and shook her head. "A whole lot worse." She took a deep breath and smiled, forcing such gloomy thoughts from her mind. "But! All's well that ends well, right?"

[SpicyWaffle]

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."

[Raveled]

Jessica blinked at the suddenly unmasked Bee-Keeper. A lot of thoughts swirled through her mind all of a sudden, some turning back to when she and Mara shared their identities so long (a year or two) ago, to Blake and all that nonsense, even to how the helmet must be internally constructed to fit his face. The thought that rose above it all though was simply, He's kind of cute.

She blushed, looking away and across the city. "Um. Yeah, Chinese is... Chinese is good. Um." She looked over the side of the building. "We should probably get down first, right?"