PREVIOUSLY ON CCR: Vex had appeared to contract a disease related to her newfound super powers, caused by erratic activity of the parawaves in her brain. Syndrome worked long and hard to discover a cure or treatment, based on the research that Dr. Rasputin, the previous owner of Syndrome's new lair, had made years earlier. While successful in inventing such a treatment, Vex arrived to find him passed out from exhaustion. Meanwhile back in the suburbs Violet Parr continued in her personal evolution as a super, seeking a new costume from the famous designer and friend of the family, Edna Mode.
Comics Cookies and Revenge
By Lejindarybunny
Disclaimer: The Incredibles and all affiliated characters are the property of Disney/Pixar. Vex is mine.
Chapter 22: Reflections and Consequences
Mikhail could be patient when the situation called for it, but he wasn't really patient by nature. Long-suffering was really more of an adjective he might use to describe his waiting habits. And so, the Russian avenger paced around his small, shabby apartment, ruminating on his earlier phone call to Mirage.
Nothing, she said. They had found nothing when they went to the base. How could this be? Granted it was invisible from outside, but how could that bastard Syndrome have failed to alert them to his presence. All of Mikhail's contacts assured Mikhail that the grudge Syndrome bore Mr. Incredible was as powerful as Mikhail's to Syndrome! (Though in no way as justified of course).
And yet the American 'heroes' had gone home, believing his information to be false! It was so frustrating, so very unbelievably frustrating.
One of his 'rats' chattered anxiously at his feet, reflecting his mood. Mikhail clenched his fists and kicked a wall. Damn that Syndrome. Damn him to hell along with that deluded wench of his!
000
The cuffs sat on one of the long, cluttered tables in his private workshop. It had taken only two days to have the key component flown in, and after receiving it; the only thing left was to put it together. And of course, to see if it worked.
Syndrome leaned forward, peering at the device, his elbow on the table and his chin in his palm. All the tests indicated that the cuffs should act as a stabilizing agent, to stop the deteriorating condition of Vex's 'parawaves'. When switched on, the cuffs would emit a low-grade electrical field that would mesh with her brainwaves and calm the irregular spikes and low points that were causing her powers to harm her.
And then, Syndrome sighed to himself, she'd be able to use the powers to her hearts content without any ill effects. Joy.
The villain glanced over at the machine that was used for measuring the amount of parawaves, of super potential, that a person had. If Syndrome stuck his head in there, he knew how it would read. All levels normal.
He rubbed his gloves hands together. It didn't matter; it didn't matter a bit! He was as powerful as any super there was. More powerful even! Wasn't that what he had set out to achieve in the first place? When he had struggled to get to Mr. Incredible's side as Incrediboy, all those many years ago, that was what he had claimed. That you didn't need powers to be somebody.
He snorted. Well, he certainly was somebody now, wasn't he? A little heard side of his personality muttered. Oh yes, a rich and powerful businessman. A billionaire. An arms supplier, who sold his inventions to third world nations so that they could slaughter one another. He was Syndrome! He'd killed dozens of supers too, and wasn't that just the neatest thing? Don't forget the most recent one. Contributing to the delinquency of a minor!
Syndrome told his conscience to go take a hike. Too little, too late. To regret what he'd become would be naïve and foolish. In the course of his life Syndrome had done and gotten exactly what he wanted.
Exactly what he wanted.
Supers were weak compared to him.
Everything he wanted?
Syndrome's gaze flickered up to the clock on the wall and he contributed his confused thinking to the late hour.
"I need more coffee," he moaned quietly to himself, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face and back above his head where it belonged. He wondered if Vex was asleep, and if she was, should he wake her up to give her the cuffs, or just go to sleep himself?
Well, he'd figure that one out when he got there. He picked the cuffs up, and stood, exiting the lab.
Despite the late hour the base still hummed with activity, a sight that gave him much comfort. Minions in threatening body armor proceeded up and down the corridors in their various duties, the fluorescent light gleaming on their reflective glasses, their steps measured as they carefully avoided any and all deathtraps. If he went into the main construction bay he'd be able to see how construction of his latest weapon was proceeding. He was tempted to take a detour in order to do just that, but no, he was looking for Vex right now. And coffee. He definitely needed coffee. Now, preferably.
He stopped a random minion. "Get me some coffee," he commanded, "I'll wait here for it."
The minion didn't even hesitate. He just nodded, said, "Yes sir," and trotted off, presumably in the direction of coffee.
Syndrome smiled. Yes, life was good. He had his money and power, his base, his minions, his schemes, his weapons and his lovely assistant. All he needed was exactly what he was working for, his revenge.
He hadn't been sitting idly by since the Incredibles' little scouting mission, oh no. His minions were working on a couple of different projects he had planned. The biggest was of course what he called 'Weapon X'. The omni droid had failed in the end, for a simple reason. It was a machine, and it thought and acted like a machine. It had no human intelligence to react to commands and changing situations.
Weapon X was not a robot, it was a machine designed to be piloted by a skilled human or humans. It would have a minimal AI 'autopilot' but nothing that could conceivably work against him.
Unlike the Omnidroid, Weapon X was bipedal so that the controls would be more intuitive to a person. It was a ten story giant mechanical warrior with an insanely powerful arsenal. Syndrome began to laugh at the idea of treading through the city, leaving house-sized footprints in his wake only to bend over, and politely tap on the door of Mr. Incredible's lovely suburban home. And when he answered…
Syndrome's chuckle had become full out maniacal laughter by the time the minion returned with his coffee. Syndrome calmed himself, coughed a bit at the end of his laugh, and took the coffee. The minion didn't comment.
000
Violet was sitting in math class when it occurred to her that she hadn't seen Tony, even in school, for over a week. That wasn't such a surprise, since they didn't actually have any classes together, but… she hadn't seen him in the hall, or at lunch either.
First Vi felt bad and embarrassed that she hadn't even thought about him for days. With her mind on other things such as Mirage, and her own impending costume, it had just slipped her mind. Then she realized that she hadn't even remembered to call Tony and apologize to him for missing their date!
Now she felt really embarrassed, and even a little angry. Was he avoiding her because he thought she had stood him up? It wasn't like that at all! She'd just been… too busy to care? Did that fall under the heading of standing up anyway, even if it hadn't been her intention?
There was no help for it. She would just have to find him and apologize.
Her resolve strengthened to smooth out the understanding, she began to stand up. Then she realized she was still in class and it would have to wait for a few minutes.
Violet sighed and tapped the butt of her pen on the desk. She liked Tony, she really did. But lately he didn't seem to be taking up as much of her life, as when he'd been an unattainable crush. She was a little confused about that. Shouldn't she be thinking about him more, now that they were really going out?
No, that wasn't the problem. It was really just that things kept getting in the way.
The bell to end class rang and Vi stood up. She had one thing in mind. Find Tony, apologize to him. Was that technically two things? Not important, she decided.
000
Vex was not, in fact, asleep. She didn't like to admit it, but she was having trouble sleeping so she'd commandeered one of the plush minion rec rooms, complete with couches, TV, snacks and even a ping pong table. She had hung a hastily scribbled sign on the door. It read:
DO NOT DISTURB!
(unless it's important)
All too often in movies, villains either missed crucial information, or ended up killing servants for disobeying them all because they were 'not to be disturbed under any circumstances. And, while Vex wasn't teleconferencing with foreign dictators, or watching Our Hero writhe in a terrible death trap only to leave at a crucial moment so he could escape, she did want a little privacy.
She was watching Star Wars.
She lay, stretched out on the largest couch, wearing comfortable cloudy-blue flannel pajamas, with a bowl of popcorn. There were two empty cans of cola on the coffee table, and she was working on a third.
Vex had raided the minions' video library to find her choice. There hadn't been much in English, and even A New Hope had subtitles in Cyrillic at the bottom. That didn't bother her however, the familiar movie was comforting, and that was what she needed.
Vex had faith in Syndrome, gobs of faith, oodles. That didn't stop her from being nervous, however. Although she fought to keep it in check, every so often her hand would pass right through something, and pain would lance through her body. It wasn't a great state of affairs.
But she could quote most of the movie, and the hum of lightsabers was stupidly soothing, and the popcorn was well buttered and soda was her friend, and everything would be all right. She would help Syndrome command his minions, and crush his enemies, and not die.
Listening to the Imperial March, Vex wondered what it might be like to rule the world. Certainly Syndrome already came close, with his tons of money that could buy preferential treatment over the President of France. If she were honest with herself, Vex would admit that she did feel a little different than she had before all this. For instance, it was easy to give orders to minions once you discovered that they actually obeyed you, rather than laughing in your face. And watching the construction of a tremendous mecha was thrilling. The confident personality that Vex had only played at in her former life seemed to be merging with her own; except when she took off the costume.
Then she was just plain, fangirly little Sharon.
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in," she said, immediately pausing her movie. She was a little worried about what could be important enough to disturb her.
She heard the door open, and she turned to find syndrome standing in the doorway, holding a tall paper cup of coffee.
A smile broke out on her face, which had been filled with doubt.
"It took me a while to find you," he said, with a smirk.
"Sorry," she shrugged.
"Star Wars?"
"Hey, it was that or Doctor Zhivago."
"In that case," Syndrome replied with a wry grin as he sat down beside her, "I applaud your discerning taste."
Vex laughed.
Syndrome put a hand on her wrist. "I have something for you."
Her heart fluttered a bit.
"It's finished."
Syndrome showed her the other item he was holding, a pair of bracelets, or manacles of a metallic sheen. Inside she could see circuitry winding around them, outside they had inset four ovals of pure green jade.
"They're beautiful," Vex said, laying her fingers on one.
"They're not a cure," Syndrome admitted. "You'll have to wear them all the time, but they'll stabilize your brain wave patterns. You'll be able to use your powers."
Vex looked from the bracelets, to Syndrome's freckled face. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"Here," he picked up one of the pair and opened it. Vex offered him her wrist with no hesitation, and he latched it on. She felt a tingling sensation for a moment, and again when the other one was snapped on. And then nothing. Just relief.
"You shouldn't have any more problems."
"Good," Vex nodded, resting her heard against Syndrome's shoulder. "That means I can concentrate on helping you with the Plan now."
"Good," Syndrome grinned. "But not just yet."
He hit play on the remote and the movie resumed.
They sat in silence for a few moments, relieved and tired, enjoying the company of one another.
After a little while, Vex spoke.
"Syndrome," she asked, "do you think you could really build a lightsaber."
"You know, I never thought about it," he admitted. "Probably."
000
Violet's free period was spent hurrying up and down the corners of her school, searching for Tony, whom she knew also had a study hall at the same time. She knew this, because, well they'd spent the time making out one day a few weeks ago…
Now he was nowhere to be found. He wasn't in any of the designated study rooms, or in the library, or the gym, or the cafeteria, or hanging out by the lockers. With ten minutes left before the next class, Violet had begun to regret bothering. Maybe he wasn't in school at all today. Maybe she hadn't seen him in days because he was ill and had to stay home.
She sighed. She had time to check one more place, and then she'd have to go up to history class.
Vi headed down the nearly empty, dimly lit corridor, resigned to the fact that she wouldn't find him. If Tony was here today, he was doing his best to be inconspicuous.
He place she was headed to was in the far wing of the school. Under the stairs that led to the second floor, there had several years ago been a small alcove there, and it had been a popular place for skipping class. During recent building renovations however, they'd put a door over the alcove, and everyone just assumed that it was locked, and generally forgot that the alcove, and even the door, existed in the first place.
Violet knew a secret. The door wasn't locked. And anyone who had the cunning to slip into it while no one was looking would have complete and utter privacy. It was where she and Tony had gone to make out that one time.
He wouldn't be there of course, but she had decided to search for him, and she had to be thorough about it, just to prove to herself that he wasn't around, and that she had tried her hardest to apologize.
Violet rounded the corner to the stairway, and put her hand on the doorknob.
She heard a noise from inside, and blinked. Nobody else knew about the alcove, did they? She turned the knob, and opened the door, just a crack.
She peered inside.
A moment later she closed it again, and practically ran back down the hallway, and to the bathroom, tears welling in her eyes and a fierce anger clutching at her throat.
Oh, she'd found Tony all right.
She'd also found her classmate, Claire Brewster.
To be continued…