Disclaimer: I do not own Meet The Robinsons or The Incredibles.
Concealed Introductions – Part 1
As a Super, Violet found herself in many situations that she wished she had avoided. Some she had foreseen the inevitable danger waiting before her and some how, she had still blindly walked into. Like a fly to a light, she had simply been drawn to it, not knowing inevitably what she was heading towards.
Standing in a makeshift inferno of a room, thick air dangerously pressing on her lungs, sweat rolling off her brow, and a force field threatening to collapse on itself as piles and piles of heavy metal debris came crashing down, Violet wondered how she hadn't seen this coming.
"A little…help…here," she grunted, arms visibly shaking under the mental and physical strength her body was exerting, looking down at the masked young man who was kneeling down next to an unconscious Cornelius Robinson.
"Shhh!" he said, holding his hands up to silence her. The girl's lips pursed tighter together, whether out of concentration or frustration the boy chose to ignore. "Give me a second. I'm thinking," His eyes quickly scanned the room. His mind rushed with several possible outcomes, each seeming worst and slightly more suicidal than the one before it. Searching, he found nothing before his brown eyes before turning back to the struggling girl holding up the shield around them. An idea hit him. He just hoped it would work.
Getting up to his feet, he stood next to her. She glanced at him from the corner or her eyes, holding back the questions that were showing in her eyes because she could obviously see the plan that was forming in his.
"Do you trust me?"
It caught her off guard. If the situation weren't currently so dire, Violet would have scoffed at his question with an added roll of her eyes. Reason would say no. She hardly knew this guy, dressed up like some modern Robin Hood with a mask. He had swept in, unannounced, causing much unnecessary confusion.
However, as a Super, there was a part of her, like a compass, that if she listened to it closely, she could hear the answer to his question. Instinct, maybe, though it felt stronger than that.
"Yes."
He gave her a smile that was all too familiar, the name of his identity on the tip of her tongue before he plunged a needle into her heart…
EARLIER THAT DAY…
Violet was not necessarily what one would call a "morning person".
Sure, she was able to get up slightly easier than Dash but she would never be considered a ray of sunshine in the morning. Her moody disposition was always present in the morning until she had fully awakened.
This morning was no different as light suddenly flooded into her room, the curtains being pushed to the side. Her mind still trying to catch up with her other senses, Violet didn't register the clicking nose of heeled shoes against tiled floors or the light humming as anything other than her mother.
Somewhere in the back of her still groggy mind, she found it strange that her mother wasn't shaking her awake from the other side of the room. However nothing seemed to register as the girl buried herself deeper into her covers, incoherently begging for a few more minutes of sleep.
"Now dear, you can't waste away the day sleeping."
Like having a bucket full of cold-water splash on her, Violet quickly sat up, fighting back the dizziness of moving so quickly to look at her surroundings. Panic turned to solemn thoughts as she remembered where she was and why.
As if sensing her discomfort, a gentle hand patted Violet's reassuringly. Again, the girl jumped, completely forgetting that she was not alone.
"Oh my! Jumpy aren't you?" the woman sitting on the edge of her bed chuckled. The woman was very pretty and nicely dressed and from past experiences of looking at her reflection in the mirror in the morning, she could confidently say that the dead looked livelier than Violet did in the morning.
Again, sensing Violet's quiet discomfort, the woman introduced herself with a comforting smile. "I'm Franny Robinson. Cornelius's wife."
Violet vaguely remembered Mr. Robinson mentioning a wife. Nodding her head, Violet replied. "I'm Violet. Violet Pa-"
"-Vowell"
"No, it's P-"
Franny silenced her with a finger. "I know who you are but to keep you safe while you're here, you'll be called Violet Vowell. You're a second cousin of Cornelius on his adoptive mother's, Lucille, side who has come from North Montana to come and live with us, while the rest of your family are off traveling. Can you remember that?"
"Yes."
"Good!" Franny clapped enthusiastically as she pulled the girl from bed with surprising strength. "Now there's much to do today." She went over to what Violet assumed was a closet and pulled out a navy blue and white dress, a matching blue polka dotted ribbon also in hand. "Here, put this on. I hope it fits. We'll grab some toast and eggs from the kitchen, go downtown to find you some clothes that you'll like and other odds and ins like filling out your applications to begin school, grab lunch, and then sometime in the afternoon Cornelius would like to see you at his company."
Turning back from straightening various odds and ends in the room, she saw how the girl stood in the middle of the room, so unsure, overwhelmed, and lost in this new place. Motherly instincts took over and Franny quickly went over to the girl, slowly embracing her in case the girl didn't approve of her personal space being intruded upon.
Franny's heart fluttered with maternal happiness when the wispy girl returned the hug, her frame shaking slightly. Pulling away from the girl slightly, Franny pushed stray strands of inky black hair from Violet's pale face, tucking them behind her ear.
"I can probably never imagine what you're going through, Violet, but I do hope you'll see us as family while you're here. Not as a replacement though," she said before Violet could even get the protest out, "but as an extension. If that is alright?"
Violet bit her lip. It wouldn't do her to be rude to this woman, especially since she and her family had taken her in. So, she nodded, unprepared as Mrs. Robinson again smothered her in another hug.
Pulling away one more time, Franny shooed her into the bathroom to get ready, quickly going through how to work some of the newer features in the room that Violet wasn't accustomed to yet. An hour later, Violet was ready.
"Perfect," Franny smiled approvingly before ushering her young charge out of the guesthouse and towards the main house. It was very large, several times larger than her family's house had been. Violet hoped that she wouldn't get lost inside it if she ever had to go inside alone.
"It's really big," Violet thought aloud to herself.
Franny laughed causing Violet to blush in embarrassment. "I'm sure once you meet everyone in the family you'll understand it when I say that it's probably not big enough."
Entering the house, they came into the kitchen.
"Don't be startled by Lefty," was the only warning Violet received as a large purple octopus rounded the corner carrying large stacks of plates on each tentacle. Instinctually, Violet tried to turn invisible only to swear colorfully when merely her pinky finger was unable to be seen.
Glancing wearily back over at the octopus, Violet watched as it set down the stacks of dishes into what she assumed was the dish washer, listening as Mrs. Robinson relayed a long list of jobs that needed to be done. The octopus nodded, before turning one large yellow eye in Violet's direction before focusing back on Mrs. Robinson.
Violet didn't know what was stranger, the fact that there was a giant purple octopus in front of her that was apparently the butler of the house or the fact that she was starting to slowly understand the soft gurgling sound that said octopus was making as speech.
"Oh, and yes, can you please wake Wilbur up, Lefty?" Franny finished off her list of tasks. "I heard him sneaking back earlier this morning. He can't just sleep the whole day away or he'll be late for school."
Lefty gave what was apparently a nod before leaving the room.
Turning back to Violet, Franny took in the girl's still shaken state. "Breathe, dear," she said patting the girl's shoulder. "One thing you need to know about this family is that we're definitely anything but normal."
Managing a weak smile, Violet said, "Sounds familiar."
REQUIEM OF A TIMELINE
High school.
To Wilbur it was something to fill his time, to keep some normalcy, or at least as much normalcy as he could as the son of Cornelius Robinson.
As he walked through the automatic doors of the school's entrance, black leather jacket held tossed over his shoulder, two coffee patches applied to his toned arms, sunglasses hiding his blood stained tired eyes, and a deodorizing wad of gum being shoved discreetly into his mouth to hide the smell of the cigarette he had when Carl wasn't looking, Wilbur Robinson was viewed by some of his ogling peers as a god; to others he was their future paycheck; some a spoiled rich kid playing with Daddy's money; and to many a source to be envied.
They all stared behind too wide smiles, some turning into a flock of giggles and blushes when he entertained them with a wink as he passed them by. They would call out to him; greet him, some confident few giving him a high-five as he passed them by. They all parted before him as he made his way down the hall. Even some teachers moved off to the side, giving him a wide breadth of space to past through.
He remembered when he was younger and this would irk him to no end; that many of the kids in his class were either too afraid to approach him or for the ones who did, did so in hopes to gain some sort of connection through the boy. Now, on the cusp of adulthood, Wilbur merely shrugged it off. It made things so much easier in the long run with his…"part time job". Distances meant that his excuses and reasoning for turning down bucket full of holographic date invitations were more believable, no one had enough details about the workings of the young Robinson's life to know the truth from a lie, save for Adrian.
"And that's only because Adrian is…"
Wilbur shook his head, deciding that those thoughts were long in the past. Schooling his face into what everyone thought the son of the famous inventor Cornelius Robinson was supposed to look like: carefree, approachable, and not knowing what pain and suffering felt like. Oh, how they knew nothing about the real Wilbur Robinson…
REQUIEM OF A TIMELINE
Mrs. Robinson clapped her hands appreciatively as she looked Violet over. "Yes, that will do just fine. We'll take all of them, please."
The blonde that was in the large changing room nodded before disappearing with a slight flash. Still not used to the idea of such realistic holograms, Violet jumped slightly, only managing to not turn herself invisible though she was still unable to get anything more than one body part invisible at a time currently.
"You're doing wonderful, dear," Franny reassured the girl. It was obvious that the girl still felt totally out of her element. Growing up around the same time of the Incredibles, Franny knew that if they had lived in one of the lower level cities, then Violet wouldn't find that many differences comparing things then to now. However, Todayland was a feat in itself thanks to her husband and had things that some couldn't even imagine a decade ago.
Taking a deep breath, Violet stood straighter, this time barely flinching when the holographic saleswoman reappeared, a hand extending out from the wall holding the neatly wrapped clothes they had purchased.
"Would you like to take the bags with you or for us to deliver them to your residence?" the saleswoman asked.
Violet cut Franny off before she could answer. "The Robinson residence please," the young Super said remembering what she had seen Franny do in several stores before, holding out her hand as a small podium rose from the ground with a handprint scanner on it. The device beeped positively, confirming that she was indeed a resident at the Robinson home before retracting.
"Very well, Ms. Vowell. Your purchases should be there when you return," the holographic nodded. "Thank you for shopping with us. Please come again and have a wonderful day," and then she was gone.
Turning sheepishly to Mrs. Robinson, Violet looked for a nod of approval that she hadn't overstepped her boundaries. She was relieved to see that the woman, if anything, looked reassured at the girl's ability to adapt. It was something that Violet found herself doing a lot as a Super. You always had to adapt to the situation…or the world would adapt to you being dead.
Going outside, the two walked towards the family hover car. Though in essence the transportation bubbles were as big as any force field Violet and her brother used to roll around in and much faster than a hover car, it still terrified the girl that the strange form of transportation was nothing more than fortified blowing bubbles. Dash would have loved the experience of floating in a giant bubble and then riding down the many tubes that connected the Bubble system to different locations.
Biting her lip to make the pain she was feeling in her heart physical, Violet was relieved when Franny started a conversation up.
The woman was very intuitive, much like her mother, and didn't treat Violet as if she were some clueless child because of her situation. The woman was beautiful and the more she talked to her, the more Violet understood how Mr. Robinson fell for this woman. Mrs. Robinson was loving, sincere, honest, and gentle but she also knew that the woman had a fierce side if what she heard as the woman had went upstairs herself earlier that morning to wake up her son for school– whom Violet had still yet to meet- was any indication.
Pushing some hair that had gotten free from her hairband out from her face, Violet realized that she was becoming comfortable around this woman.
"But not too comfortable," she thought. Once her family was fully back to health, she would undoubtedly have to leave the Robinsons and their generous hospitality.
"-let. Violet!"
Snapping her head to the source calling her name, Violet realized she had been daydreaming. "Um, sorry? What did you just say, Mrs. Robinson?"
"I said we're heading now towards the school you'll be attending, to complete some paperwork. It's the same high school that Wilbur, my son, goes to." Franny furrowed her brow slightly. "You still haven't met him, have you?" Violet shook her head. "Hm. Well maybe we'll run into him on the way to the office."
Violet nodded before asking without thinking, "What's Wilbur like?"
Franny laughed as she kept her eyes on traffic, causing the younger female's cheeks to redden slightly. "Many people think he takes after me: impulsive, loud, energetic. He has my family's signature hair trait," she said pointing to the curl of hair that insisted to defy gravity – Violet had merely thought it was a fashion statement. "However, people who think that are obviously not close to the family since Wilbur takes more after Cornelius than me."
Violet twirled a lock of her hair around her finger imagining a geeky looking but adorable blonde with the defiant cowlick and possibly taped up glasses. The idea made Violet giggle softly. "So he's a genius like Mr. Robinson?"
Franny took a few minutes to respond before finally saying, "In his own way."
The discussion ended there. For some unknown reason, the light and comforting atmosphere of before was gone. Violet couldn't quite place why, before she could think further on it, Mrs. Robinson was pulling into a parking spot.
"Here we are," she declared getting out from the car. Violet looked at the pristine structure that was made out of glass and other futuristic architecture and gulped. She should have been use to new schools and being the new kid. Before her family came out as the Incredibles, there was a brief period of time where she had gone to eight different schools because her father couldn't control his need to do good.
Looking up at the educational institution, she felt a tight gripping of her gut. She had a feeling that no matter what time period it was, school was school and a high school now would be the same as high school then: a living hell.
REQUIEM OF A TIMELINE
This was such a living hell.
He pressed his forehead further on the cool surface of his desk. It did nothing to alleviate his headache. His head was spinning. Thoughts were racing through his mind faster than he was able to comprehend where the thought originated and where it ended.
It was a side effect that happened at some point after each injection, though knowing the pain was coming didn't help make it any better. It effected him differently each time it occurred.
He needed aspirin.
He needed this class to end.
He needed a smoke.
"Mr. Robinson, am I boring you?"
He held back a groan, wanting to reply back that yes, his science teacher's lecture was boring to the point of mental implosion. He held back his retort. He was the son of Cornelius Robinson. "Image control", he reminded himself through the chaotic racing of his mind.
Lifting his head, he met the irritated glare of Mr. Johnson. The man was in much need of a retirement but the school held on to him because he had won some award in rocket science years ago. Of course, the man was slightly bitter towards Cornelius Robinson who had taken away most of the attention from him a week later when Cornelius invented a device that helped people remember forgotten memories. Johnson never really entirely got over his glory being taken and thus held some petty resentment for the inventor that he loved to project on Wilbur. However, Wilbur wasn't new to man's attempted plans at trying to embarrass him.
Sitting up straight and hoping he could keep the irritation from his voice – whether because of his headache or his teacher – Wilbur gave an easy grin. "No sir, of course not."
"Then I suppose you can answer this question about the history of the drug Potentia. I mean, your father did have a lecture about it a few years ago. I'm sure you heard it plenty of times," Johnson stated crossing, his arms, waiting.
"Of all the drugs…" Wilbur thought, never letting his grin falter despite that his hands clutches at the edge of his desk tighter. "Sure. No problem, Mr. Johnson."
Stepping away from his lecture podium, the educator gave his student a gesture to take the stand. Getting up with almost effortless calm, no one was aware of his racing heartbeat. Finally turning to stand before the class of his peers and one bitter old teacher, Wilbur's eyes scanned the room quickly, not catching Adrian's careful gaze but noticing as his friend pulled a long sleeve further down an arm that was sure to have small but visible injection needle sites.
He thought of another arm, not his and not Adrian's, that looked similar, marked with many small injection sites. More than what was safe.
"Potentia," he began, "is a chemically modified version of an unknown organic substance. The organic substance is believed to be from some sort of animal though, causing many animal rights activist to protest for it to be banned sometime in 2021."
"Was it banned?" Johnson questioned, hoping the answer would trip his student up.
He thought of sirens. He couldn't remember if they had been police or ambulances.
"Yes, but not for those reasons," Wilbur answered without hesitation. "By the time the activist could even think about working out the plans for a protest, the government had already beat them to it. Never before had their been a collective vote in Senate history where all members unanimously voted for illegalization of the drug."
"Name the effects!"
Adrian still looked bored but the pencil that twirled around nimble fingers seemed to speed up anxiously, betraying the calm mask.
Tangled matted raven hair, framing pale skin and lips tinged blue.
Wilbur shook his head, clearing his racing thoughts before giving his teacher a charming smile, that made some of the girls in his class audibly sigh. "I was just getting to that." Turning back to the class he cleared his throat. "Now there are many reasons why Potentia was and still is being taken. One use of Potentia is for the high effect, said to be better than marijuana. However, some people believe, in its liquid form, that it increases natural abilities. No definite reason is known since when the drug had been first reported to the authorities, it was in small almost untestable portions that couldn't be reproduced. However, the people who had taken it had extreme side effects including paranoia, delusions, cardio-arrest, and…suicidal thoughts leading to death."
Adrian's pencil snapped just as the bell signaling the end of class rang. Wilbur raced back to his seat to grab his things, grabbing Adrian's arm on his way out and giving a fuming Mr. Johnson a mock salute.
"You ok?" he asked his friend once they were finally out of earshot.
Adrian chuckled humorlessly, leaning slightly on Wilbur. "I was about to ask you that. You're looking pale. Very pale."
He held her hand very close to his face, hoping, praying that his warmth could be felt and that her cold skin would warm. It didn't…
Wilbur shook his head, clearing it from distracting thoughts. "I'm fine but I'll probably have Carl call me home sick." Adrian nodded.
"I'll probably wind up ditching too."
"You don't even have to be here anymore. You could have graduated last year!"
"I know," Adrian sighed before giving a small comforting smile, "but then who would keep you out of trouble?"
Chuckling, Wilbur shrugged. "That is an excellent question. Don't think I would want to find out."
"Hm," Adrian replied with a knowing smirk before beginning to walk off. "Get some rest, love. And I mean it. Your father didn't build Todayland in a day."
Wilbur sighed, leaning against the cool surface of a locker and letting out a tired sigh as dizziness seemed to take over him. "If only it were that simple," he muttered.
REQUIEM OF A TIMELINE
"-kay?"
He doesn't quite remember his bed being this hard. He doesn't remember the pain cutting through his head quite this intense.
"Hey! Did you hear me? Are you okay?"
He doesn't remember his voice being quite that high or frantic. Frantic was bad. People could slip under the mask at any sign of uncertainty.
"I'm…fine."
Wait. That was his voice. Strained, dry, parched, but his. Then to whom did the other voice belong?
Finally, the rest of his senses decided to catch up with his mind, his eyes finally taking in what was around him.
He was on the floor. That explained why his bed felt hard. His hand lifted to his head where he felt a knot beginning to form. He vaguely remembered bumping into something. Was it a door? A locker door perhaps? Yes, that seemed right. Many of the electronic lockers at the school were in need of replacing particularly because of their habit of opening at any slight disturbance. Now, who was talking to him?
A girl. A brunette. No, her hair was more inky black with a soft sheen that almost seemed blue. Blue eyes. No. Wrong again. They were indigo. "Must be contacts," he thought. She was…pretty, but he had met a lot of pretty girls before. He wouldn't be surprised if he had met her before, or if they shared a class. All the girls at this school had started to blend together. He wasn't being vain or snobby. He just wasn't interested. He hadn't been ever since…
He shook his head, pulling himself to his feet, causing the girl to let out a small squeak of surprise as she scrambled to step back, giving him room to stand.
"Um…are you ok?" she asked again. "I mean, you hit that, um…locker door pretty hard," she explained.
"So it was the damn locker," he thought before mustering up as much strength as possible to turn on his public Wilbur Robinson face, giving her a smile that had over time earned him a small fan club.
"I'm fine," Wilbur said giving her a small bow. "Thanks to you, miss…"
He watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. "They always get shy when they talk to me," Wilbur thought slightly annoyed. Too many girls had put on the shy act in a desperate attempt to be cute and gain his attention - and also his checkbook. All the stuttering and embarrassed blushes had began to take a toll on the young Robinson's patience when the girl said two things that he surprisingly would never forget after she took a deep breath that not only seemed to calm her but also exude a sense of confidence that she didn't appear to have before.
The first, her name: "Vowell. Violet Vowell."
And the second, something that made Wilbur's mouth open and close like a fish at how obviously serious, honest, and unaware of who he was when she asked: "Who are you?"
Finally! An update. Sorry it took so long. It took me awhile with fixing plot issues and also with school. Is it sad that I've begun to spend a huge part of my college life in the library? What is this thing called free time? Just kidding...kinda...not.
Anyway, I hope this appeases you long enough until I can get a new chapter out...whenever that'll be. I also hope that nothing in this chapter was confusing. In essence this is a build up chapter for the next one but it still has a lot of important stuff. Also, if you're wondering, Violet's new last name is the last name of her voice actress.
Um...nothing more to say so...PLEASE REVIEW!