MadGremlin

Sting realized that he was getting a little worked up – and he was in no condition to do so.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll rest a bit, and yeah I’m an omnivore – I eat pretty much everything. You’d be surprised at the stuff I survived on for a while.

Sting settled down onto the bed. “I don’t think that wench had anything to do with grand Crey schemes, She came from the same lab I did. I didn’t even know it had any connection to Crey, but it must have. I think they just wanted their experiment – me – back. But I’ll let you be the brains and worry about all that stuff, boss.”

Sting took a sip of the water and if he could roll his compound eyes he would have. “Geez you two sound like a freaking soap opera or something. Look around, this is the Two-Six for chris…er, chriminy sake. We’re like the freaking island of misfit toys! Heck I know a SuperGroup called The Misfits, and they are better adjusted than we are!” For some reason Sting just didn’t get it when the annoyed glances came from both Mystic and Myriam, he rambled on.

“We beat up a few bad guys, try to send them to the Zigg, and try not to get ourselves too dead in the process.” He shrugged. “You are making this out to be some sort of ‘save the world’ kind of thing. We’re lucky if we can save a few residents of the Row here, let’s start with that.”

Sting settled down and then it started sinking in – the body language, the annoyed stares – and he held his tongue for a moment.

“Look, you two obviously have a history, maybe if you want to make googly eyes at each other you should get a room. Myriam, thanks for the water, and I will have some of that…um, whatever you called what you made, later. Pretty rare when someone does something nice around here so since ‘alfie’ there is too uptight and polite about it, just let me say thanks for trying to take care of us.”

He took another sip from his water, waiting for the inevitable stare and upper-crust British remark from Mystic.

[ QUOTE ]
"I am Myriam. I am a nurse, and will be running the 2-6 clinic for Alfred, as well as working with you as Exodus. And unless there is someone better, I am also the cook. There is borscht and bread for your dinner."

[/ QUOTE ]

Sting lifted his head. “Well hello Myriam, I am Sting. I’m surly, rude, and abrasive. Just ask ‘Alfred’. Oh and I’m a terrible patient but nice to have you around.” His chitin was still cracked, but healing, and there were internal injuries that would take a little while to heal, it would just take a little time – assuming he didn’t go out and break himself again.

“Newton and I grabbed some chow from a little hole-in-the-wall diner on the way home, but thanks. Being a bug means I can eat just about anything so I’m not picky.”

He lay back down as Mystic came in. “Hey boss, er I mean ‘Alfred’.” He chuckled, unable to keep from poking a little fun at Mystic.

Maybe he was too tired and hurt, or maybe Myriam just seemed too much like a ‘mom’ figure, but he didn’t bother giving her the typical ‘you think you can come in here and tell us what to do’ speech that pretty much everyone else had gotten.

Sting eyed the imp. "This place is just getting stranger and stranger. And coming from a walking bug-man that's serious."

He got up and gingerly made his way to what had been assigned the 'clinic'. He was stunned when he saw the spotless condition of the area.

"Hmmm, someone else actually cares to clean this place too."

He climbed into a cot, worn out from even the short trip, and quickly fell asleep.

“A flying bed – I feel like I’m in a Disney movie.” Sting slumped back down on the bed shaking his head. He hadn’t really believed that Newton would actually fly the bed out the window and back to the Two Six. But hey, who was he to complain?

He still hurt pretty bad, but wasn’t going to let on too much so he relaxed and watched the Kings Row scenery pass by.

“Speaking of dinner, let’s order out something when we get back, I’m starving. That is unless you want to swing by the hospital cafeteria for some fine hospital food.”

[ QUOTE ]
“Do you and anything get along well?” Newton asked as he rose.

[/ QUOTE ]

“No, so don’t push it.” He chuckled again.

[ QUOTE ]
“Let me fetch a doc.” He stopped and glanced at the insect man. “Unless, of course, you want me to just float you, the bed, and everything else nearby out of here and back to the Two Six.” The grin on his face widened. “Oooo, that would irritate the docs and administrators, wouldn’t it.”

[/ QUOTE ]

“Heh yeah, it would. Sounds good to me.” Sting sat up a little more. His tough hide had not fully healed but he could at least move without being in extreme pain. He flexed his arms and legs gingerly, noting what hurt.

“Well much to the disappointment of many, I think I am going to survive. We should go give the bad news to Mystic. I’m sure my recovery would be faster if I can be around to be a thorn in his side.”

[ QUOTE ]
Newton sat patiently with Sting, watching the television that was up over the bed. He took a snickers bar out of his pocket. “You know, Sting, you’re not a very stimulating conversationalist in this state,” he said good naturedly. “I’m not sure what your favorite channel is, but I’m sure that something good could be on the Hero Channel.”

He pursed his lips as he flipped over to it. “An expose on the Whitmoore Apartments? I don’t think so.” The green-haired hero flipped until he found Cartoon Network. “Hey, how about a little Adult Swim.” Newton sat back with a grin, glancing to see if Sting had any reaction at all.

[/ QUOTE ]

“%$#& you Newton, I’m never a good conversationalist.” Sting said weakly. “And I hate the Hero Channel, so Cartoon Network is good.”

Sting moved a bit in his bed and grimaced in pain. “Wow, RJ is really freaking strong. Next time tell him to throw Mystic – maybe it’ll knock some sense into him.” Sting chuckled a bit.

“So when the heck can I get out of here? Hospitals and me don’t get along well.”

Another press release from Crey came out that day. They had taken the Hive Queen for study and special holding as the officials at the Zigg did not have the facilities to treat the insect woman.
They denied any involvement with her, and even showed surveillance video of her first attacking Sting. It clearly showed that her ‘henchmen’ had some kind of paramilitary uniforms on – not the Crey guard outfits that Sting had seen.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Sting awoke a couple times for short stretches. He got an update from RJ on the aftermath of the battle but didn’t seem to show any reaction. It was difficult to tell if he was truly awake and understanding due to the effect of the healing energies they were applying to him.

Becker climbed into the back of the bland, tan panel van. “Jenkins, I have a job for you…get us to the hospital parking garage.” On the way there Becker explained his plan. Jenkins didn’t like it, but didn’t dare question the obsessive Becker.

They drove the van into the hospital parking ramp and parked in a location known to be out of sight of any security cameras.

Jenkins stripped out of his jumpsuit and combat armor and changed into a slender Kevlar vest under an orderly’s uniform. A quick application of some Crey cosmetics changed his hair color to from brown to black and a disguise kit allowed him to change his face almost completely.

Becker programmed the computer in the back of the van and it spit out a laminated hospital ID, which he clipped to Jenkins’ shirt.

While Jenkins hid a few small weapons on himself, Becker gave a few quick commands to the computer and connected them to the hospital’s computer network, then got them into the database.

“Let’s see where you are Mr. Sting…a-ha! Tenth floor. #*$&*, they put a lot of heroes up there, going to be tough.”

Jenkins entered the hospital, carefully making his way up to the tenth floor.

Sting is finally stabilized and rests between applications of healing energies.

((OOC:One final flashback scene – a little graphic at the end but hopefully still PG-13.))

A scientist marches into what looks to be a common room. There are several of the large men clad in the familiar blue jumpsuit. “Feeding time for patient 67.” He says as he marks something off on his clipboard. “Why do I always have to remind these goons?” He mutters to himself as he leaves.

“I can’t believe that one is still with us.” one of the men in blue comments.

The one that seems to be in charge looks at a pair of them. “You two go do it, it’s not like that one is going to be a threat at all.”

“Yeah, maybe I can get some practice with these new stun-sticks we have!” One laughs as he twirls the weapon in his hand.

The men collect the food and head to the holding cells. They check in with the guard and swipe their magnetic badges to unlock the door. Once inside the cell they set the tray of food down and wander over to a humanoid figure lying curled up in the corner. He is fully covered in a hard, green chitin, has antennae, and compound eyes. The men have not even bothered to close the door behind them.

One of the men pulls out a short club and flicks a switch on it. An electric arc can be seen at the tip. He looks over at his buddy as he pokes the insect man with his foot. “We might as well have some fun while we’re here.” He grins sadistically.

It is the last thing he ever does.

The insect man suddenly moves at amazing speed. A spine extends from his forearm and passes into the abdomen and then up into the chest cavity of the orderly. Poison is injected and the man falls, convulsing, onto the floor.

The second man turns to try to run. As he gets to the door the insect man leaps the length of the room in a single bound and drives a spine into the base of the man’s skull, killing him instantly.

With clear intent the orderly’s magnetic card is taken. Almost before the guard at the desk realizes something is wrong, the insect man has cut open his throat and is moving purposefully down a maintenance corridor. He moves toward a grating and tears it off, hinges and all. The waste chute takes him out of the building, past the perimeter fence and out into the dense jungle. As he runs into the jungle he hears alarms going off and the sounds of men shouting. Soon he is far away from the facility with only the sounds of the jungle. They will try, but there is no way they can track him down in this jungle.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Special Agent Becker managed to watch the end of the battle through his high-powered scope. He swore as the Queen was finally taken down and watched as they transported Sting away.

“Hospital…” He said to himself as he brought up his PDA that showed a map of Kings Row. “Maybe I can still salvage this operation.”

He clicked on his radio. “Jenkins, this op may not be a complete failure. Bring the van to the corner of Fifth Street and Anderson Ave.”

Within hours of the incident Crey published an apology for the misunderstanding between their agents and the Twenty-sixth precinct. The agents mistakenly thought that the heroes were attack the Two-Six and tried to protect it. A significant donation is made to repair any damages to the building itself.

As usual, not only do they get off the hook, but they even look good doing so!

The medical teleportation unit fortunately works and Sting is in the Emergency Room of the Kings Row hospital.

Soon there are doctors and nurses running around trying to figure out how to handle his unique physiology. Readings like heart rate and blood pressure are hard enough to determine, and to figure out their meaning is even more perplexing.

Within a few hours an entomologist is called in and some progress is made as healing instruments are recalibrated for the human-insect hybrid.

Sting continues to dream about his past…

He is strapped onto the table for the umpteenth time. Now the straps are made of metal cables instead of the sturdy cloth from earlier. The scientists stand behind Plexiglas shields as they attach tubes, wires, and electrodes to the ‘man’ on the table.

When they first were subjected to the process it was just painful, then it ramped up to excruciating. Soon they were killing patients on the table. Those that survived year and the major transformation – all ten of them – had a little easier time after that. The process was still incredibly painful, but with most of the process complete it seemed like a picnic compared to the worst of it.

Soon the process starts again. He screams as the pain overwhelms him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back in the hospital Sting’s body writhes and his vital signs fluctuate wildly. Eventually he relaxes and the doctors continue to work.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ok boys let’s be a little careful here. We are going to move the survivors to the holding cells. We have some that are a little out of control so let’s not take any chances.” A scientist in a lab coat says to five large men in blue jump suits. The men wear forearm guards and carry a variety of restraining devices. Each also has what looks to be a cattle prod on their belt.

“How many are left?” One of the men asks.

“Ten, but a couple are in the hospital so we only have to move eight.” He replies.

“Fine, but I ain’t goin near that chick in 54. You see what she did to Hank last week?”

Their new homes are sealed rooms with observation windows. Even still, the screams of the other patients can be heard. The guards are bored and have fun shocking the patients with their cattle prods. Four armed men are present any time they open the door for feeding, treatments, or relocation.

One of the survivors remains passive and quiet. Many of the others react violently to any contact. All of them are changed, taking on aspects of the insect DNA grafted into their own.

((OOC: Time for the stereotypical 'severely injured' flashback. Overdone I know but he this is comic book right? Cliche' is part of the genre!))

As Sting lay there, his mind floated back…

The doctor walked into the room as he got dressed.

“Well Mr. Ericksson I think you had better sit down.” He said.

“Huh, what is it? C’mon, all I’ve had are some muscle aches and pains.” The patient commented in return.

“Well, those aches and pains were not truly from your muscles, they were from your bones. You have bone cancer and it has spread…”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

He lies in a hospital bed thin and pale, all of his hair gone. With weak fingers he opens a letter.

Dear Mr. Ericksson,

We at VariBio Pharmaceuticals are happy to offer you an opportunity – a chance to live…

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The same thin, pale, bald man steps onto the 747 bound for Rio de Janeiro. There are several others on the flight who are in the same fragile condition, heading to the same destination.

The long flight is followed by a short flight in a smaller jet to a local airport, then several hours in a helicopter to a secluded laboratory in the jungle. Different groups come in at different times. In the end, there are one hundred patients. They are shown to individual rooms in the dormitory section, that are functional but spartan. Few notice that the windows are reinforced Plexiglas. The extra security was explained away as ‘keeping corporate spies’ out. Fewer still noticed that most of the locks were designed to keep people in…

----------------------------------------------------------------

Screams could be heard from up and down the hallway of the dormitory as two large men in blue jumpsuits drag the limp form of a ‘man’ to his room. The scientist in the lab coat looks at his clipboard as the men unlocked the door. Early on they had helped each person to their bed and gently set them down. Now they just drag him in and leave him on the floor.

“Ten bucks that this one doesn’t make it to Friday.” One of the orderlies says to the other. “I’m not taking that bet!” the other one growls.

“This one might surprise you.” The scientist says looking over the chart as they close and lock the door.

The man, lying on the floor in the room, doesn’t look right. His skin has a greenish tint and in places seems to have hardened. But the strangest are his eyes – they are dark, yet reflective and have started to bulge.

After several minutes the man drags himself up to the sink and gets some water. There is a look of intense pain on his face.

Despite the energies meant to heal him, Sting barely stirred. The external wounds knitted, but there was obviously more serious wounds still inside. His breathing was shallow and labored.

((After consultation with Abrahms))

Rough Justice came staggering out of the Two-Six. “Hey you bug-eyed ******, I’m not done with you yet!”

Sting, finally back on his feet, stepped over next to him.

Battered but still dangerous, Hive Queen glared at the pair as she slowly walked forward through the pounding ice.

Sting leaned over to RJ and spoke in a low voice. “Time to end this, are you really as strong as they say?”

“Stronger.” RJ said in a matter of fact tone.

“Ok, then throw me.” Sting said.

“WHAT?!?” RJ responded, surprised. But then the realization came to him. “Buddy, you know what the…”

Sting cut him off. “Yeah, I know, but I don’t see much choice at this time. We don’t have much left right now.”

RJ looked at Sting and then nodded. “Ok buddy, I’m sorry in advance.”

“Well at least I can say in truth that this is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you.” Sting grinned.

The Queen was just clearing the field of ice and trying to see if her damaged wings could still generate a sonic blast, as RJ hefted Sting up as if he were a javelin. RJ’s massive strength made it look like he was lifting a twig. He took several steps and threw Sting at an amazing velocity.

As soon as he was released Sting deployed two large spines directly forward from his forearms.

There was a moment of realization on the Hive Queen’s face when she saw Sting hurtling at her.

Then there was impact.

The sound of chitin hitting chitin was horrendous, almost surreal.

When the dust settled both Sting and the Hive Queen lay, unmoving, in the center of the street. One of Sting’s spines, broken off from him, was imbedded in the Hive Queen’s shoulder.

The silence after impact was deafening.

The scene on the street was one of total destruction. Rubble was strewn everywhere through across the charred, yet ice-covered area. Bodies of Skulls and Crey were scattered throughout the debris. And in the middle were the Hive Queen and Sting, both broken, bleeding, and still.

Sting took a deep breath and then jumped onto the Hive Queen. Her damaged wing and Newton’s increased gravity were obviously bothering her and Sting intended to keep her off balance as long as possible.

He slashed repeatedly with his spines, trying to find a weak spot in her armor as she backpedaled, trying to protect herself. But already beaten, battered, and tired, Sting could not keep it up for long. One momentary pause and the Queen found her opening and retaliated. The blow slammed him into the side of the Two-six, leaving a ‘Sting-shaped’ indentation. He fell to his hands and knees, obviously hurt as he tried to suck in air with labored breaths.

“Now would be a good time for some help…” He mumbled as he spit blood onto the sidewalk.

[ QUOTE ]
Pushing to his feet. "Ah hell no Sting, I love a challange. Man can you pick um, sting ol buddy real fatal attraction there."
He moves to Stings side "Come on you ****** through me first."

[/ QUOTE ]

“Yeah, I sure have a way with the ladies, don’t I? Heck we aren’t even married and she is trying to tell me what to do.” Sting chuckled. Then he turned to RJ and said more quietly. “We need to bring her down to the street or we aren’t ever going to take her out. If I can draw her down, hit her hard.”

A cone of spines covered the area where Sting and RJ conferred. Fortunately the gravity bubbles deflected some of the attack or both would have been pin-cushions.

“Yo Queeny! You want me, come get me!” Sting shouted as he leapt over to get cover at the corner of the Two-Six. He saw Newton peeking through the window. “Get your head down gravity boy, it might get real ugly.”

The Hive Queen, now all but spitting she was so mad. She dove after Sting firing sonic blasts that tore up the concrete showering the area with small missiles.

Sting stepped forward and tossed a handfull of spines at the Hive Queen. Beyond the minimal effect, it did grab the Queen's attention back away from Newton.

The beating of her wings intensified and a blast of sonic energy sent Sting flying back.

"Kid gloves are off now Sting. You turned me down and now you die!"

Sting slowly crawled to his feet, still trying to be defiant. "Sorry guys, maybe it was a bad idea to come back here."

Sting felt the wave of air rush past him and it made him feel better and cleared his head.

[ QUOTE ]
Locust....?

[/ QUOTE ]

Sting was still a bit confused. Who was this person, dressed like a little old lady, speaking in a deep voice with dark energy flowing from her? And had she just called him a locust? If there weren’t more important things going on, and the fact that she…er he…er whatever it was had just healed him, Sting would have definitely given…it a piece of his mind.

There was a buzzing sound, like a thousand bees swarming into the area. But it was just one. She was a human/insect hybrid with a segmented body and insect wings that beat rapidly. Her compound eyes scanned the scene. No longer trying to fly stealthy, the sound from her wings echoed off of the brick buildings of Kings Row. She had an angry look on her face and glared at Sting as the last of the Crey strike team cleared the area.

((OOC: Hive Queen is an AV level enemy with Invuln, spines, and sonic blast. A team of 7 (2 tanks, 2 scrappers, 1 blaster, 1 controller, 1 defender) should have a decent chance…on a good day…))

Yeah, what the Professor said pretty much sums it up well.

Sting leapt toward the Two-Six and heard a couple shots ring out from behind him. That sniper was still taking shots and once the Queen was free she might come after him too.

Then Sting saw the huge ball of flame erupt from the direction of the Two-Six. “Holy crap…I hope that wasn’t the entire building going up! Just a bunch of Skulls don’t do that much damage!”

Sting’s shoulder was aching as green and red goop trickled from the wound. He took a moment in an alley to apply a trauma patch he had been given by a tech hero several weeks ago. It helped but he was still beaten and wounded all over his body. He could hear the faint buzzing of insect wings.

Another couple leaps and he was looking down the street at the Two-Six. Out in front there were bodies of Skulls and Crey strewn around the burnt ground as small fires flickered. Mystic hovered in the middle of the burnt area, looking a little tired. Abrahms was tangling with tanks and Crisis units that looked charred and beaten. And some lady, in fancy clothes was standing in the street? But she was pulsing with dark energy.

“What the…?” Is all he said, stunned for a moment by the scene. Gunfire and screams from the buildings across from the Two-Six snapped him out of it. He saw a very damaged tank about to drop a two-fisted blow on Abrahms and jumped to action.

The tank was obviously weakened, and a hole in his armor provided the perfect target. Sting drove a large spine into the flesh beneath the armor. The man screamed and fell. He looked up at Abrahms and Mystic. “Might want to send that one directly to the hospital.” He coughed a little more – that effort had cost him.

“We likely have incoming – some nasty bug lady that wants me dead now. Tough as nails so we might want to clean up this mess and get ready!” He added a quick swipe at a Crisis unit that was turning to run but it had little effect.

Sting was clearly in bad shape, but not willing to give up the fight yet.

((OOC: Jeez, now we have both Steele and Stanz!?!?))
((OOC2: Long post, hope it makes some semblance of sense...))

Sting leapt through Kings Row on his way to meet Harold. He didn’t notice the form flying high above him.

The sonic blast slammed him into the rooftop of the building. It took a moment to clear his head – but the buzzing stayed. He looked up to see the source of the sound - a female human/insect hybrid flying toward him.

“What the f%&$?!?!” Sting said as he stood up. “I don’t know what beef you have with me lady, but if you need your as$ kicked I’m more than happy to oblige.” He hurled a handful of spines at her, which she easily dodged.

“Well now that I have your attention Mr. Eriksson…” She left that hanging, enjoying the look on Sting’s face.

“W-What? How do you know my name?” Sting stammered, obviously stunned by the fact that she knew his real name.

“I was there too. I suffered the same fate as you, but I stuck it out and was rewarded. Now I am the Queen – Hive Queen to be exact. I have servants and wealth and everything else I need. You could too…”

Special Agent Becker clicked in the magnitude on the electronic scope; the crosshairs neatly intersecting Sting’s head. “Would be so much easier if I could just finish him.” He mumbled to himself, making sure his microphone was off.

Hive Queen hovered, enjoying watching Sting struggle with the revelation.

“So who do you work for now? Who provides all of those comforts and holds your leash?” Sting shouted up at her.

“Oh no my dear boy, that isn’t it at all. Sure there is a benefactor, but I even have my own agents.” She said as two Crey patrol guards stepped onto the roof. “They are mine to command. Let me show you – Boys, go get Mr. Sting there.”

The two guards looked at each other for a moment, then raised their submachine guns and fired. Bullets danced around Sting, some striking glancing blows off his chitin as he dodged. A single short leap and he was on top of them. Precise strikes with his spines disarmed them, but they kept coming, throwing punches and kicks at Sting.

“Stupid chumps!” He growled and cut into one of them with his spines – careful to just make superficial wounds, but with enough poison to make the guard fall in pain.

The second guard slammed a solid punch into Sting’s midsection – only succeeding in breaking several bones in his hand. Sting returned the punch and then dropped him with a well-placed elbow. Both guards were unconscious, but neither dead.

Sting stepped back. “So much for your lackey boys.”

“You disappoint me Sting – your reputation suggested that you would not show mercy to cattle such as these.” She said as she flew down and picked them up. “They would have probably survived…but failure cannot be tolerated.” She dropped both of the men off the edge of the building to their deaths from twelve stories up.

“What the %&$#? People say I’m crazy, but you are a psycho!!” Sting said.

“We need not concern ourselves with the normal humans. They are but playthings for those such as us!” She smiled. “Join me so that we do not have to suffer these fools except for them to be our servants!”

Sting stood silent for a moment looking up at the Hive Queen as she hovered. For a moment Becker actually thought that Sting was going to take her up on the proposal.

“Lady, I got no beef with people. It is metas like you that make the normal folks fear and hate us. You may think that you are the Queen, but you are nothing but a slave.”

Sting leapt into the air and slashed the Hive Queen with a spine, leaving little more than a scuff. “You can stick your self-righteous attitude!”

As Sting landed a single shot rang out. Had he been standing still the armor-piercing bullet likely would have made a neat hole through his head, but fortunately it struck his shoulder. Still the bullet penetrated, sending a spray of chitin and blood onto the rooftop.

Sting fell with a shout of pain but kept rolling as a second and third shot hit the building roof. The Hive Queen looked perturbed and glanced in the direction of the sniper. Meanwhile Becker cussed as his first shot only caused a slight wound and his other shots missed their mark.

Sting’s radio blared with Newton’s voice.
[ QUOTE ]
“Skulls rampaging out front!” he called out. “Assistance would be appreciated!”

[/ QUOTE ]

Sting raised the radio only to have a bullet shatter it before he could radio for help.

“Bingo!” Becker grinned as he took aim again.

Sting knew there was one place that would at least cause hesitation to the sniper and he leapt. Even with the limited motion of the wounded arm he managed to wrap himself around Hive Queen quite effectively, including fouling her wings and causing both of them to plummet.

They fell between buildings, moving past windows and fire escapes at an ever-increasing pace. The Queen was stronger, and a burst of spines from her loosened Sting’s grip even further. She extended a spine from a free arm, clearly intending to pierce him.

For some reason that law of physics popped into Sting’s head and he pushed.

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

As they fell between buildings each of them headed toward the edge of the alley and the fire escapes that ran the height of the buildings. Sting was ready and braced himself as he passed through two of them before coming to rest on the third.

“Ow, oh that was dumb Sting!” He said has he pulled himself up. There were cracks and breaks in his chitin but he could still move.

Hive Queen, not expecting the impact, had taken a little more of a beating, though showed much less of an overall effect. Still partially wrapped in the metal wire of a damaged fire escape she strained against it, bending the bars out of her way. “Damn you Sting, you are a dead bug now!” She growled.

Becker cussed as he moved to try to get a view of the two between the buildings.

Sting coughed, a little blood trickling out. “Nice to meet you, we’ll have to do this again some time.” He leapt away, keeping low, back toward the Two-Six.

[ QUOTE ]
"I am bored want some company?" Sean asks the Poision Sting, in an almost exuberent voice.

[/ QUOTE ]

"Naw, poor Harold is about as skittish as can be - he'd freak if I showed up with someone." Sting chuckled slightly. "Especially someone else who might enjoy terrorizing him! I'll be back in a couple minutes."

Sting leapt away and as he did, the small band of Skulls moved out from the alleyways picking up rocks and such while taking aim at the Two-Six.

The Crey agents, who had anonymously paid off the Skulls to perform the act of random violence watched.

“The fodder is moving into position now.” One said into a radio. “Once the heroes make their move start your attack.”

Ten Crey agents, two tanks, and two Crisis Units stood at the ready while the Skulls started throwing rocks and garbage at the Two-Six.

((OOC: Crey team will initiate attack (on the heroes) as soon as the heroes attack the Skulls (who will mostly scatter). You have free reign on both groups. The Crey force will start to retreat when pressed too hard.))

The phone at the front desk of the two-six rang.

To whoever answered a gruff voice asked, “I need to speak to Poison Sting. Tell him Harold has some more information.”

When Sting was roused he spoke briefly into the phone. “Under the Third Street bridge? Yeah I know where it is. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

Well my little weasel friend says he might have some more information for me. I’m going to go meet him. I should be back in a few minutes.” Sting grabbed one of the standard issue radios and headed out.

Sting rested fitfully in his room. Though exhausted there had been a little too much going on that day and his mind couldn’t quite leave it alone while he slept.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Agent Becker pulled together his team. Despite many years of experience and many stakeouts that lasted weeks, even months, he was getting antsy. This find had gotten him some attention from the right people and if he could pull this off he was clearly looking good and definitely on the fast track up the ladder.

“Ok men this is the plan: We’ll draw Poison Sting out of the two-six. As soon as he is clear you six agents will go in. Now don’t give me that look – I’ve got two tanks and two Crisis Units on standby to take the brunt of the hero damage. Try to keep fire on Mystic Inferno and Newton’s Apple.” He showed pictures of the two heroes on a large computer monitor. “Those two can be hurt with gunfire or frozen with cryo-pistols.”

He stopped for a moment as he brought up pictures of Abrahms and Rough Justice. “These two you should stay away from. Let the tanks and Crisis Units handle them. Also be careful of Mystic Inferno’s fireballs. Keep spread out.”

“That will certainly keep the folks at the two-six busy while I cover Hive Queen’s attack on Poison Sting. She will make her best effort to bring him in, but if that fails we will capture him or just take him out. Once you get a signal from me, I want you to clear out through standard routes.”

He looked around the room as he brought up an overhead view of the area around the front of the two-six. “Ok, let’s go over some firing angles.”