[h2]Maceroy Falthon[/h2]
Well, bright ideas or no, her towels sure could pack a punch. And so did he, for that matter, clocking the overweight dastard in a way that KOed him without inflicting excessive damage. Who knew the corner of the jawline was such an effective pressure point? Him, actually, having formed his fist in a way that specifically put pressure on the point in question. He'd get up sooner or later, anyway.

'[b]Grand show, Wet Towel,[/b]' he congratulated his temporary partner, offering a thumbs-up to the younger woman, moments before the buzzing of his phone in his pocket indicated a text received. Shoot, and he couldn't answer that right now without lowering his exoskeleton's defenses...

'[b]I'll leave handing this villain over to you, then,[/b]' he prompted, his armour's wings extending out to lift him upward once again. '[b]I trust you'll make sure he receives a cell that'll properly contain him this time![/b]' With that uttered, he moved off, sighing under his breath as he exited the scene. God, dealing with Blorb was a chore... and it'd cut into his ability to actually educate people, since the chances were his biology class would absolutely get skipped by his students. But, if he wasn't able to attend his own courses, what sort of teacher was he?

...he considered that as he soared well above the buildings of the city, his exoskeleton vanishing once he was sure nobody would see his figure. He could teach his students all about the body. He could teach them about the strange way the universe worked. He couldn't teach most of them what exactly the right way to live was, though, and there were hardly any courses encouraging them in that regard either. Hell, many would probably never reach a position where they could make a meaningful change to begin with, at least not as individuals. It was cynical, sure, pessimistic even - but he honestly couldn't see evidence to change his mind, not when even the most active of activists failed. Maybe if he'd minored in psychology...

Bah. He'd figure something out. Still flying, he drew out his phone, tapping it until the text he'd received came up - <something big came up that i gotta discuss with ya>, sent by Eve. Something big... a lot of people might interpret that message as the equivalent of "we need to talk", and that would lead certain people down catastrophic trains of thought. Of course, "big" could just as easily be good as bad- oh, maybe she'd received one of the jobs she'd wanted! Tapping <Phone-big, or in-person-big?> into his phone and sending it, he tucked it back into his pocket, keeping an eye open for the same alleyway he'd surged out of to begin with... ah, there it was. Not long now before he could return to his civilian cover.