Dressed for the day, Violet made her way down to the kitchen the next morning expecting to find Syndrome waiting for her but instead, there was one of his droids and a note attached to it. Violet instinctively went stiff at the sight of the robot, not even registering the white slip taped onto it's front until she realized it wasn't going to attack her. Feeling comfortable enough to approach the lifeless object, Violet moved closer to inspect the message which was just a bulleted list for her.
-Chamber 1. Target Practice with dummies.
-Banned access to all tech save for this droid and access to the test chambers.
-If you require something ask the droid and it will be granted with my digital approval.
-Stay out of trouble.
Violet cursed and ran for the front door in hopes of catching Syndrome but when her hand met the door handle she felt a painful burst of electricity rush through her. Looking out the frosted glass window, Violet could see that his hovercraft was gone.
Slamming her open palms against the door Violet screamed out of frustration before moving into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, but as the note implied, the house tech accessories were shut off, or at least to her. Moving to the table she picked up the remote and clicked to open up the television but just as with the coffee maker nothing happened.
"You've got to be freaking kidding me!" Violet shouted looking for the nearest security camera before she walked up into its frame to talk directly to Syndrome. She was sure the cretin was watching over her every move now, so she was sure to give him a show from here on out. "Did you seriously ground me?! I don't know what kind of power trip you are getting from this but this isn't funny you snaggletoothed bastard!"
She waited to hear a response from him but after 20 minutes of waiting it was clear that the silent treatment may have also been in play. Frustrated and literally with nothing else to do, Violet made her way down to the containment chambers and walking into chamber 1, Violet was surprised to find that it was loaded with 45 test dummies. And that was it.
No droids to destroy, no protection barriers to break down. No instructions on how to conduct herself. Just the dummies.
And each one of them, in Violet's mind, had Syndrome's stupid face.
"This is so unlike Violet," Winston whispered with concern in his office. "I'm really sorry James, I'll have Cliff from HR give you a tour of the building, he may have an opening in his schedule for tomorrow," Winston said as he walked the undercover villain to the door. Pine gave a shrug at the apology.
"No worries, Win. I just hope she is alright," he said trying to match Winston's worry. "You'll keep me up to date on the situation though, right? I know she wasn't my hire but I'd like to think of myself invested in every aspect of the company. After all, our products are only as good as our people," he stated as he turned back to face his business partner from outside of his office door.
"Yeah! Of course, of course!" Winston assured. "The kid just might have a bug of some sort and hasn't been able to get to the phone, but I'll be sure to let you know what the situation is when it's cleared up."
Buddy smiled and gave a wave goodbye before heading into his own assigned office space. He had yet to decorate the space to his tastes but he did have a lava lamp placed on a bookcase. It wasn't anywhere near the level of power his volcanic island exuded, but it was a nice little conversation piece.
Moving to look out the window, his eyes took in the city below wondering who Winston would call first. Well, who he would call after blowing up Violet's number at least. Would he call her parents, or check in with his old mentor, Rick Dicker?
Dicker.
That bastard had taken a lot from him. Not nearly as much as Mr. Incredible, but a good amount of wealth was lost to the NSA agent's directive. And rumor had it that the old man had helped Mirage get a badge as well. A deal of sorts to commute her sentence for the crimes she had committed while she was with him. Thinking of her still boiled his blood, yet he couldn't fault her at the end of it all. He had gambled with her life, and she had repaid him tenfold.
He hated her for it, but he couldn't blame her.
Turning to his desk, Buddy began to survey reports that needed his attention. The Municiberg DevTek Technology Center was to begin construction immediately, with high hopes to be open for the Fall semester. It would be the crown jewel on the West Coast for technical education, but it would also start the complete domination of cyber life. Evelyn Deavor feared that sort of future, as any good engineer would. The decline in having to commit human thought into life was in essence the decline of life itself.
He might not live to see the day when humanity chose to close their eyes to the ways of the world and opt for comforting lies instead, but he was sure his name would be branded on the devices people choose to submit their livelihoods too.
While thinking on the topic of submission, Buddy's thoughts drifted to the super brat he had holed up in the lair this very moment. Looking down at his watch he tapped the blinking camera icon to pull up the feed from the most active camera. The hand that wasn't adorned with the watch was lifted up to his face which wore the subtle expression of horror.
Violet was really going to town on those manikins, and he imagined that not a single one of them would be reusable. Repairable was still up for debate but he was losing confidence in that possibility as he watched the woman decapitate two of the test dummies with a single disk. The hand that was on his cheek now protectively covering his throat. He swallowed his fear and remembered that he was in control. As long as he kept the SAD in check. Though the super had a really good track record of breaking his toys. Maybe a more internal control method would be needed. Just to be safe.
Turning off the live stream, Buddy focused back on the work in front of him and shook himself off. But how the hell was he supposed to work knowing that he had pissed off one of the strongest supers he knew?
Violet laid on the floor of the living area with textbooks and scientific journals all around her. She considered herself to be a bookworm, able to digest just about any reading material that was set at her feet, but the stuff that Syndrome had on hand was as dense as a dying star, which according to the most readable study in the pile, was about 6.2 miles deep.
Hearing the door open Violet sat up in attention, her gaze meeting Syndrome's instantly. Locked in each other's hold, they waited for each other to make the first move. Syndrome broke the silence by shutting the door behind him and the simple action put Violet into hyperdrive.
"Where the fuck do you get off?!" Violet shouted as she got to her feet and Syndrome's eyes widened at the question.
"Wow, that language is hardly ladylike," Syndrome scolded as he made his way for the kitchen, already in need of a drink, and with Violet trailing behind him he decided to pour a double.
"Well it's a good thing I'm not running for Miss America isn't it," Violet asked as she folded her arms. "I'm sure that the judges wouldn't care for my talent act either. Speaking of which, I hope you have a stockpile of test dummies in one of your other eccentric bachelor pads, because I destroyed all the ones you gave me."
Syndrome clicked his jaw at the comment. What little he saw from her time in the chamber was concerning to say the least. He had hoped that the four hours and some odd minutes she had spent mutilating dummies would have tuckered her out a bit, but the super was still raring to go.
"That's enough for tonight, Parr," he said as he took his drink and headed towards the elevator to analyze the data she provided. "The manikins have served their purpose and I expect that I should be able to replicate something of yours for my clients because of your brilliant display of violence." The statement made Violet stop following him, and he grinned knowingly.
"You were using me?!" She shouted from the end of the hall and Syndrome laughed turning to face her again.
"Past tense there, a bit of a poor choice, Parr. I still am using you," he chided with a smirk as he tapped on the controls to summon the elevator. "As I said when you first arrived, we are going to do great things together," he said taking a confident sip of his whiskey as the elevator doors opened and he stepped in, not breaking eye contact with her. "I've got some rough drafts in my head, but when I move to the marketing phase I'll include you in the naming process. Sounds like a fair deal, right?" He called, relishing the furious look on Violet's face as the doors closed.
Winston Deavor shook his leg nervously as he watched Rick Dicker walk around the penthouse foyer, inspecting the place- silently judging the place.
Judging him.
There were few people on this earth that Winston Deavor feared. Mrs. Walsh, his sixth-grade math teacher, Jaundice, a real villain back in the day, and then his old supervisor, Rick Dicker.
"So, let's go over this again," Rick drawled from the far side of the room, making Winston hide his face under his hands.
"I've told you everything I know! Besides, shouldn't we wait for Me. Incredible and Elastagirl to show? Given that, you know, they are supers? And her parents?!" Winston shouted, throwing his arms to his sides and focused his gaze on the ceiling. "Were there any clues at her place?"
Dicker took a deep breath and approached his former rookie. There were some concerning things about Violet Parr's apartment. There were a few more empty wine bottles than he would have liked, and certainly not enough greens in the fridge, but those things paled in comparison to the handgun that she had stashed in her school bag. He had sent that in for prints but he wanted to know why the hell a super would have a gun.
The elevator doors opened much to the relief of Winston who got to his feet to greet the super parents, both dressed in their matching red suits.
"Guys thanks for coming, now I know that we are all worried about Violet, and we will find her. She might be Invisi-girl, but I have the utmost confidence that she will turn up," Winston said gently as he shook the hands of his closest friends, Rick clearing his throat as he took a seat at the table Winston had brought out.
"Can we all go over the last time you had contact with Violet? Winston, let's start with you first," Dicker grumbled as he pulled out an old fashioned tape recorder and set it down on the table.
"Did you seriously have that thing on you the whole time?! I -just- ugh, nevermind! … The last time I could say I saw Violet was last Friday night. It was here in this room, we had our merger signing party with Kronos Incorporated, you know the Swiss company that makes, well, everything that my company needs pretty much. Anyway! She was here at the party," Winston said calmer than before as he clasped his hands together and set them on the table. "She gave me a really good pep talk before Mr. Everett showed and she went to go hang out with the other interns. After the signing, which was behind schedule by 15 minutes, I introduced Mr. Everett to some folks including Violet. It wasn't until after I escorted back to his aircraft I realized that she was gone."
"And what time was that?" Rick asked jotting down the company Kronos Incorporated. Something sounded familiar about the company but he couldn't put a finger on it.
"Oh, it was just a minute before 9 PM. I tried to get to stay for a nightcap but he seemed pretty adamant about getting home. I think he's an early riser."
"Alright. I'm going to need the contact list of everyone who showed up to the party, especially the names of the interns she works with. If anyone was to see something it would be them," Dicker said looking then to the Parr parents. "And what about you two? The last time you saw Violet was when?"
"We saw her two weeks ago for dinner," Helen started quickly. "But she called us Friday night, before the party. She mentioned she had to get ready for it, she called us from a phone here actually. It was a premature call, she normally checks in on us on Sunday, if we don't reach her first."
"And what did you talk about, other than the party?" Dicker questioned, making a note to collect a list of calls made out on Friday from the phone records.
"We…, well, I asked her when she was going to quit this job and come back to work as a super," Bob confessed. "She didn't appreciate that too much," Bob muttered as he folded his hands.
"I can't imagine she did…" Rick huffed back and Winston was on high alert.
"Okay, clearly I'm missing something here- Why would you want Violet to quit this gig? I'm paying her very competitively and I honestly believe there is room for her to grow, if she wants it. But also, why doesn't she want to work as a super?!"
"It's not relevant to the case," Rick said, giving Winston a look of warning before focusing back on Mr. Incredible. "Anything else?"
The Parr's shook their heads and Dicker felt no closer to solving the case than he did two hours ago, but he at least had a list of names and phone numbers to scour through in the meantime. Standing up, Rick turned off the recording device and rubbed the creases in his forehead.
"Violet... is a strong kid. She's been through some tough things but has managed to become a strong and bright young lady," Rick said before packing up his gear into his briefcase. "I can't say for certain, but I suspect that Violet did not return to her apartment Friday night. We are waiting to hear back from some of her neighbors but a boy was hanging out by her place when we arrived. Said something about wanting to apologize for a mishap."
"Does this boy have a name?" Bob asked sitting up a little straighter, his question met with a tired stare from Rick.
"His name is suspect number one for now, but he does have an alibi. He's going to be interviewed by the police tomorrow concerning this 'mishap', and if it's a lead I'll let you know." Rick said as he pulled the briefcase from the table. "If any of you hear from her, I want to know immediately. Is that understood?" The trio of adults nodded and Rick released a pent up sigh. "Good. Winston, I expect those names and a call log from Friday to be on my desk tomorrow morning." Dicker said, already walking away as Winston jumped to his feet.
"You got it Rick!" the executive shouted, mostly from nervousness. Without another word Dicker made his way into the elevator and left, leaving the Parr's and Winston alone. "Is it too bold of me to ask if I can make you two a drink?"
"None for me," Bob muttered as Helen raised a hand.
"A manhattan for me," Helen responded and Winston walked to the cocktail bar to prepare two manhattans. Coming back he handed Helen her drink and kept his in hand and waited until she had the first sip before he asked the question.
"I know I shouldn't be asking this- not because of what Dicker said but out of respect for Violet, but I would like to know. Why doesn't Vi want to do hero work anymore?"
Helen set her glass down before looking at Bob. His eyes were solemn and he motioned to shake his head but Helen turned her gaze back to Winston, a look of sadness in her eyes.
"She lost someone on the job," Helen said softly and Bob was shaking his head in disagreement.
"Her boyfriend. Violet lost her boyfriend, and she hasn't been the same since."