AN: Ugh, this took longer than expected again. I'm working on Chapter 5 right now- okay, that's a lie. I've just finished Chapter 4. But I'm still very behind on revising and posting, so I thought I'd do it now, while I have free time. My Synlet notebook has seen so much use this year that the front and back cover are only held on by a paper clip, and... yeah. Hopefully this chapter will turn out as well as the last two did. (I tend to do some revising and adding and explaining as I type because I realize that it doesn't make sense or could use some rewording.) I'd also like to send a short acknowledgement to my international readers. Hi, international readers! Anyway... I'm still not a Disney CEO, or Steve Jobs, so I don't own The Incredibles and by default Buddy or Violet. Cara is mine. There's a little bit of graphic-ness and a little bit of swearing, as well.
Oh, and this chapter is really long compared to the other ones. Sorry. ^^;
"Hi, you've reached Buddy Pine. I'm not sure how you got my number seeing as it's not in your phone book, so you're going to want to redial." Beep.
Violet frowned. Apparently he still wasn't home from his lunch, or he was purposely avoiding her. It seemed surprisingly characteristic of him to give her his number and then just sit around listening as she sent him messages. Well, the satisfaction was going to stop here.
"Hey, Buddy. It's Violet again. I was just checking to see if you were home yet. Since you're probably sitting around at your house just listening to me call you and snickering about how you think I'm dependent on hearing your voice or something, I'm going to stop calling now and let you do the calling back. I'm sure you have Caller ID."
The heroine hung up, satisfied. There was another number she still needed to dial, anyway. After punching in the numbers, the phone rang only twice before the aging man on the other end answered, "Hello?"
"Hey, Rick. It's Vi."
There was a relieved sigh from the other end. Knowing the state of things, he'd probably been getting calls from exasperated mini-heroes tagging along with their family who wanted to be the exception to the "Drinking Age Rule" as her father called it. Twenty and a half was still not twenty-one, but Violet knew that she'd wanted to get out on her own since she'd been eighteen. Alas, rules were rules.
"And why am I so privileged to receive this call today?"
"Have my parents called you yet? I don't think they have my number." Violet found herself longing for her parents' old corded phone, as it was very hard for her to wrap her fingers around a nonexistent line.
"Actually, no. I called them to confirm a rumor, but they had no idea. You should really tell your parents things before I hear about them, Vi."
"What rumor did you hear?"
"It's been going around that our old buddy Syndrome is alive and has decided to become your nemesis."
"Oh, yeah. Can you file that for me?"
"How can you overlook telling people that?"
"Well, I figured they already knew he was alive. The Omnidroid's been rampaging all over Metroville for a week now. It's been all over the news, the press is eating it up like a chocolate-creme donut."
Rick chuckled. "Since you left, I've missed your donut similes. Anyway. I haven't had the time to watch the news, and neither have your parents. Golden Age villains have been popping up all over the place, and they're crushing them like the bugs they are. Obviously all the Parrs are doing right now is extermination, seeing as you're dealing with the apparent master of returning from the dead with no explanation."
"There's got to be an explanation, Rick. I intend to find out what it is."
"So how have things been going between you and Cockroach-Boy, then?"
"Oh, Syndrome? He, erm, gave me his number."
"Why?!"
"I don't know. It was at the same time that I was beating his face in for insulting my inability to kill him. Humph. And he said I didn't know how the code worked. That man has a mouth with a death wish, I swear."
"Apparently not enough of one," Rick muttered. "Can you come down here and give it to us so we can pinpoint a location? We'll only access it if you need it or if something happens to you. He is your nemesis, after all."
"Thanks, Rick. It means a lot to me."
"Well, I hadn't heard anything about you getting injured, so obviously you're at least somewhat of an even match for him."
"Yeah. If I hadn't been, it's not like I couldn't call my dad, either..."
"Well, if you need help, we'll be here as well in case you can't contact him for whatever reason."
"I'll keep that in mind. Talk to you later," Violet said, and hung up. The Super thought for a moment, then decided to try calling her nemesis again.
On the other end of the line, the red-haired inventor was listening to his messages. "Hey, Buddy. Just making sure I got the right number." Beep. "Forgot to mention it was Violet the last time. Sorry. Bye." Beep. "Hey, Buddy. It's Violet again. I was just checking to see if you were home yet. Since you're probably sitting around at your house just listening to me call you and snickering about how you think I'm dependent on hearing your voice or something, I'm going to stop calling now and let you do the calling back. I'm sure you have Caller ID."
Syndrome chuckled. Of course she'd be suspicious enough to think he'd been sitting at home the entire time. Well, it wasn't as though he was actually just going out to eat at a fast-food restaurant or something, that wouldn't have taken an hour or so. A fellow villain had called him to a meeting/lunch, having noticed that villains all over the country were mysteriously vanishing. The topic had interested him greatly, as one person had come to mind during the entire conversation.
That person had also taken the time to call him, he noted as screaming emanated from the answering machine. The voice was in the tone of an angry ex, but far too shrill to be Mirage.
"BUDDY PINE! PICK UP YOUR PHONE! I KNOW YOU'RE HOME! YOU'RE GOING TO-" Syndrome pressed the 'delete message' button before Cara could get any further. The villain had better things to do than listen to a former friend scream at him via a recorded message.
Like listen to Violet scream, for instance, he thought. I'll be doing that for a while once this plan comes to fruition. Oh, right, she wanted me to call her back.
It didn't take long for Syndrome to get her on the line. "Hello?" came the cheery reply, along with the scraping noise in the background that he automatically associated with buttering toast.
"Are you making toast?"
"Ugh, I'd know that voice anywhere. So you finally decided to call me back- and yes, as a matter of fact I am. Why did you give me your number?"
"Why not? I figured you might need it someday."
"You know, I just realized something."
"Which is...?"
"I should hate you."
"Wow, this is an interesting topic considering your casual tone."
"I guess so. It's just so weird fighting you. Half of the time, I'm strong like I usually am, and half of the time I'm... not." The truth of the matter was, Syndrome made her feel like Incredigirl again for the first time since she was eighteen, not even close to being independent. When she fought him, she felt so unsure of herself and her powers, hiding behind invisibility at every turn. This was definitely going to be a problem. Incredigirl swallowed, withholding her emotions (and in a way, Syndrome's small victory over her) and took a deep breath before speaking.
"This whole time, I've been just... mildly annoyed with you. You're causing mass destruction and all I care about is being woken up early. I'm treating you like an old friend or an obnoxious neighbor, not a genocidal maniac. You even tried to kill me and kidnap my little brother. I really should hate you."
"The way you're going with this, I assume you're going to say that you don't?"
"How can I? Even after all that you did, you brought my family back together. You showed the world that it needed Supers, otherwise we'd have scheming idiots like you." Violet smirked. No. She wasn't Incredigirl. That was behind her. She was Ultraviolet, and Ultraviolet was strong enough to stare down the ghost of her past and insult him over the phone.
There was a short, almost barking laugh from the other end of the line, then a response to her quip. "You have guts, Incredigirl. At least you're not fearless and stupid like your father."
"My dad's not fearless. Why would it make him stupid, anyway?"
"Fear is a natural prevention to doing stupid things. If you were, say, about to poke a sleeping bear in the eye, common sense would tell you not to do it, and then the fear of the result would keep you from doing it. Those who are fearless defy their common sense. Before you say it, yes, some fears are irrational, but so are people who fear nothing. It usually gets them killed in the end."
"So you have fears."
"Of course I do. Did you think I'm some sort of monster or something? Oh, wait, I am. Never mind. Anyone with half a brain would fear pain and death."
"You're not afraid of being found out? Or is it something completely irrational that your mind can give reasoning to, like spiders or elevators?"
"If I had a fear like that, do you honestly think I'd tell you?"
"I guess not."
"As I was saying, you have guts. But I'll be the first to admit that yes, I was an idiot."
"Say that again?"
"I was stupid and reckless. Come on. I wasn't supposed to be a hero. It was a dumb plan to get even with your dad, and it failed." Syndrome paused.
"Then, while I was getting fixed from the turbine, I realized something."
"What's that?"
"My greatest revenge is being a villain. Your dad caused my fall from grace, and as long as I keep being the antagonist, I'm getting even with him," Syndrome lied. Sure, that was part of it, but capturing Violet and turning her against her father... Not only would it be his greatest revenge, but it would also be much more satisfying.
"So you're just out to wreak havoc so my dad feels bad about making you this way."
"Basically." Silence ensued, but it was eventually broken once more by the villain.
"Would you ever date me?" The villain grinned. This question was intended only to throw her off guard-
"Maybe if you were the last man on earth," Violet replied, then took an apparent bite of her toast.
The redhead was shocked. She hadn't even paused to think about it before giving a comeback. There was no indication that she'd been startled, she'd shown no interest in the question... nothing.
"You'd rather date your father than me?" Syndrome asked after pausing a mere moment to get over his surprise.
"Without a doubt," came the cold response. "Goodbye." With that, Ultraviolet hung up.
Syndrome blinked several times, then returned his phone to its hook. Despite her being completely un-surprised, she'd still called several times beforehand, and he'd kept her on the phone longer than he bargained for. Everything was happening all at once, but it was going in the general direction that he wanted it to.
Soon, Violet Parr would be his and there was nothing the Incredibles could do about it.
---
The young adult sat impatiently in front of her computer screen, waiting for the surveillance cameras to load. Her dark hair, flipped up at the ends, quivered with her anxious table tapping; and she constantly fidgeted with the goggles resting atop her head.
Syndrome would never see her coming. He would expect a lackey, maybe, but little did her former colleague know that she had no lackeys. She did all her own dirty work. That was the most fun part, really.
Cara frowned as she looked back at the screen. Nothing. She had no way of tracing Ultraviolet. But that was okay. Ultraviolet would answer the call for help of her nemesis, and the plan would fall into place. Cara had only paid attention to chemistry in high school, but that was all she was using at this point. Syndrome owed her, and him being her guinea pig was a pretty fair trade.
The villainess studied the cameras even more, then finally decided to just give up on Ultraviolet for the time being. The hero would come. All the rest had.
Cara shut her laptop and shoved it inside its large case inside her coat. It still bore the "S" it had been made with, as it had come from an employee closet on Nomanisan-though it had gone through some alterations. Cara thought it ironic that she was wearing the emblem of someone who would soon work for her.
The woman dashed up the stairs to her old friend's apartment. She took a moment to prepare her roster of needles, filled with all manners of chemicals and drugs to immobilize him, then knocked on the door.
It opened slowly, but before Syndrome could shut it again, Cara had shoved one of her high-top sneakers in the door. "I'm getting the feeling I'm unwelcome here."
"You are," the redhead spat, and Cara drew out a needle.
"Back up and let me in."
"I'm not stupid, Cara."
"Oh, really." The woman stuck the needle through the doorway, pointing it directly at him. "Then you'll let me in."
Panic overtook Syndrome, and he opened the door fully. Cara strode in, smirking. "Nice place you got here. Mind giving me the grand tour?"
"Actually, I do." The villain glared.
"Oh, well. That's really too bad for you," Cara replied, still smirking. "This one is all my others packed into one," she said, holding up the needle. "Multiple chemical reactions at once, and you're about to get a 'healthy' dose of the prototype."
Syndrome backed away, terrified. He was not as frightened of the woman or the liquid contained in the needle as the syringe itself, oddly enough.
"Oh, yeah, and you're afraid of needles, aren't you?" Cara asked, grinning sadistically. The cyberkinetic grabbed his arm and plunged the needle into his skin, draining it of its contents. Within a few seconds he was on the ground, holding back screams of agony. Cara ignored his pain and walked past him.
"It changes," she remarked before walking away with her typical confident strides. The somewhat short woman turned the corner and went into the computer room.
Cara's eyes widened as she stared into the room. Now this was somewhere where she felt at home. Monitors lined the walls, some depicting cameras planted in the Parr household and others awaiting a password. Cara placed a glowing hand on the hard drive and attempted to hack into the mainframe, but instead received a burning feeling make its way up her arm, almost as though flames had their its way into her bloodstream.
"Damn," she muttered. "Firewall."
Cara exited the room in hopes of getting the password out of Syndrome. The inventor lay prone on the floor, completely unmoving. His eyes were wide and unblinking, and Cara frowned. "At this rate I'll never get the password out of you," she mumbled. "I need it so you can send a message for your precious little Ultraviolet."
As her fellow villain stared at the ceiling, Cara went through his messages on his answering machine. It didn't hold anything particularly interesting for her, save for the fact that "Violet" had called multiple times.
"Ultraviolet. Humph. How original," Cara muttered sarcastically. "You'd think she'd have been able to come up with something less obvious."
The villainess turned around, back toward her victim. Syndrome had just lost consciousness. "Well, I suppose I'll have to wait until he wakes up again, then."
She'd take him to the computer room, leave a message for Ultraviolet to find as she inevitably would, and then leave with the inventor in tow and the Super on her way.
Everything was going exactly according to plan.