Who&#x27;s Super Now?

If there was one thing that was a rarity for Buddy Pine, it was remaining silent. Out of all the things in the entire world, he loved nothing more than the sound of his own voice. Talking meant that people were listening. When people were listening, that meant he was the one they put all of their attention on. Monologuing helped rise his ego, and while it sometimes did get him into trouble, he loved having all eyes on him.

There were only two instances that could render Buddy Pine completely silent. One, if his mind was completely focused on a particular task; whether that be working on an invention, or calculating what exactly to say next to get the best advantage in a conversation. Or two, if he was downright furious.

In this case, as Mirage revealed to have used a form of hypnosis on him, it was both. He was downright furious, his jaw tightening as he did all he could to hold back his rage, his mind bringing up questions of the past, as well as coming up with what exactly to say to her. Wanting to distract her in order to give him more time to think, Buddy tossed the wash cloth over to her, urging her to wip the blood from her hands.

Was she a Super? How long had she had this power? He was more than positive she had them back when they had worked together. Had she used her powers on him back then as well? Just the mere thought of that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Before I go absolutely ballistic,“ he finally spoke, his eyes staring straight into hers, “Was this the first time you used your little hypnosis on me? And I want the truth, Mirage. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

{S I L E N C E}

If there was one thing truly unsettling in this world, it was the livid silence that encased them as he processed her answer. She knew exactly what was coming next–what always came next–the only question was how long this silence between them would last.

His jaw tightened, fire burning in those usually cold eyes, and she had to stop herself from flinching as he tossed the already stained cloth he’d used to wipe his face across the table to land before her. It was an out of place gesture, but that didn’t stop her from obeying when he urged her with a single gesture to use it. Hesitant fingers reached for it, all the while watching him as she wiped away the blood that had long since turned brown and dried.

His question came as she set the rag back down on the table and she could see the amount of effort he was putting into containing his anger.

{Is this the first time you used your hypnosis on me?}

It almost hurt that he had to ask…almost…

"Yes, this was the first time….” She’d used it to run away from her family. She’d used it to erase herself from every database in the world. She’d used it to get them food and shelter during their hard times as kids. She’d used it to get information from Supers and to convince them to come to Nomanisan. She’d even used it to get into her job at the NSA.

But never had she used it on him. Whether it was because she’d never needed to or because she’d worried about what he’d do if and when he found out she couldn’t say–maybe both–but the end was still the same.

Buddy remained silent once more, leaning back into the couch as a subtle "hmph" escaped his lips. His fingers rubbed his strong chin in thought.

Should he believe her? He figured he had every right too. She hadn't lied to him before - not that he could recall. Sure, she had completely destroyed his life; but she didn't do so by lying to him, did she? The thought of her with this type of power still unsettled him, however. She could have easily used it to influence those around her in order to make her rise within the early days of SyndroCorp.

Another, less incriminating, thought quickly crossed his mind. She had these powers back when they started working together - back when they, together, had been collecting Supers to test their latest inventions. When they were killing any Super whose secret identity they had come across.

A wide grin engulfed the features of Buddy Pine's face. "Hold up," he said, holding both hands in the air, looking at her through orange strands of hair, "you're telling me that you completely hid your powers from me, all these years, right under my nose?" he mused, brow raised. "When I was committing genocide against these people, you easily could have - hell, should have been one of them?" Buddy then through his head back in laughter at how cunning she had been. Would he have killed her had he found out all those years ago? He honestly wasn't sure. But to know that he had an intimate relationship with a Super without him even realizing it? "I've gotta give you kudos," he shrugged his shoulders, waving a dismissive hand. "You helped me murder dozens of your fellow kind. You're more deranged than I thought."

Leaning forward again, his anger subsiding ever so slightly, Buddy questioned, "Now, tell me. What do I have to do for you to fix this stupid thing you did to my brain?"

wannabeconfident

#; synful

[[Sorry I've been MIA this weekend! I was off doing a photoshoot for an up and coming clothing line. I should hopefullyyyy get to all my replies by tonight. Seriously though, look how epic my makeup was.

#ooc

canon: gives no information on a character except for a name and sparse backstory

me: mine now

#; synful

The platinum blonde sank into the fine leather with more than a little irritation, stole draping around her as her hands folded in her lap, legs crossed as the slit in her skirt showed them off. She’d almost been home free…but only almost…most things were always only almost with Buddy.

Almost friends. Almost partners. Almost lovers.

The only thing he ever seemed to do to the fullest and most extreme extent was being a villain; because it was what made him comfortable. It was easy to push people away, she’d done it her whole life–so had he–but to face your failures and the failures of others, that was difficult.

But then again she was also to blame for this. She’d betrayed him–even if it had been what she’d thought would benefit him–even knowing who he was, how he worked, she’d left her post and it had gotten him nearly killed. An outcome she’d not counted on, after that, she’d been naive enough to think he’d understand when of course he wouldn’t.

He sat down across the coffee table from her half fresh faced and draped in a robe courtesy of Gregory, and she found herself inching back just a little; though distance meant nothing to zero point energy. He spoke as he continued to scrub the mostly dried blood from his face, conceding to ‘talk things out’ in the most condescending way before it came.

The demand to know what she’d done to him.

Green eyes drifting down to her hands–smeared with what blood had still been wet when she’d touched him–delicate fingers that unfolded only to curl into fists as her gaze turned to the window; staring at her reflection for a long moment before she finally answered him.

“We’ll call it hypnosis…”

If there was one thing that was a rarity for Buddy Pine, it was remaining silent. Out of all the things in the entire world, he loved nothing more than the sound of his own voice. Talking meant that people were listening. When people were listening, that meant he was the one they put all of their attention on. Monologuing helped rise his ego, and while it sometimes did get him into trouble, he loved having all eyes on him.

There were only two instances that could render Buddy Pine completely silent. One, if his mind was completely focused on a particular task; whether that be working on an invention, or calculating what exactly to say next to get the best advantage in a conversation. Or two, if he was downright furious.

In this case, as Mirage revealed to have used a form of hypnosis on him, it was both. He was downright furious, his jaw tightening as he did all he could to hold back his rage, his mind bringing up questions of the past, as well as coming up with what exactly to say to her. Wanting to distract her in order to give him more time to think, Buddy tossed the wash cloth over to her, urging her to wip the blood from her hands.

Was she a Super? How long had she had this power? He was more than positive she had them back when they had worked together. Had she used her powers on him back then as well? Just the mere thought of that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Before I go absolutely ballistic," he finally spoke, his eyes staring straight into hers, "Was this the first time you used your little hypnosis on me? And I want the truth, Mirage. I'll know if you're lying."

For the mun! have you only ever rpd incredibles characters?

[[Oh goodness, no. Incredibles characters are just the ones I've kept the longest/ones I'm most known for. Syndrome and Violet, basically.

Gosh, let me try and think who else I've RP'd. Um...

Wilbur Robinson (Meet the Robinsons). Captain Jack Sparrow (Pirates of the Caribbean). Vanellope von Schweetz (Wreck it Ralph). Kim Possible (from the show of the same name, obviously). John Bender (The Breakfast Club). Angel (Rock and Rule). Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice). Arista (The Little Mermaid). Shego (Kim Possible). Daryl Dixon (The Walking Dead). I'm sure there's a ton more but that's all I can think of at the top of my head.

"Goddamnit, you stupid little…” he groaned to himself, frustrated hands once again pushing his hair from his blood stained face. She wasn’t going to win this. She couldn’t win this. With each step she took away from him, the more his anxiety and anger began to boil over. He needed answers from her, and he needed her to fix this. Whatever the hell she wanted from him in order to get what he wanted - well, he didn’t want to think too ahead of himself.

Rolling his eyes at her immature remark, Syndrome didn’t at all hesitate now into using his zero point energy. If there was one thing he was thankful for about his mechanical form, it was that his inventions were attached to him at all times. It definitely made up for the constant pain his body experienced due to his intense injuries.

As she remained frozen in her tracks, Syndrome cautiously stepped out onto the front walkway of the Manor. Shoes crunching against the stone pathway, he eyed her with utmost curiosity. She had mentioned super powers, he was sure of it. And these powers now had control over how his mind was functioning. Had she had these powers the entire time they had known each other? How had she managed to slip under his nose? He needed answers, and he needed them sooner than later. More importantly, she needed to fix whatever it was she had done to him.

"We’re not kids anymore, Mirage,“ he spoke to her motionless form, his free hand gesturing back towards his home. “So let’s settle this out like adults, alright? Now. Let’s calm down a bit, take a deep breath, and head back inside. Gregory will make you whatever you damn well please, and we can talk. Preferably without me covered in some guy’s blood,” he snickered to himself, amazed his appearance hadn’t seemed to bother her. “Think you can handle that?”

Not once since the day they’d me thad he ever used his inventions on her, but it didn’t take very long for her to know exactly what was happening as the stiffness set in immediately. A stiffness that held her in place just as she’d held him, motionless and unable to escape as heavy footsteps brought him closer and closer to her. His voice was soft as he rounded in front of her, a gently threatening tone under the seemingly mature proposition.

It wasn’t until he’d finished that he released her, removing her upper hand in the blink of an eye and watching with more than a little obvious enjoyment as her smile turned to a frown. He’d complained about her ‘always having the upper hand’ and yet it had not lasted very long. Platinum brows knitting together, she knew when she was out of choices, so–ruffling the white fur stole up around her shoulders once again–she turned back to the house.

Letting off a frustrated sigh of relief as Mirage turned back into the house, Buddy didn't hesitate in following her steps. Never had he used his inventions on her before - never in their decades of being together. Seeing her body completely motionless against his will made him feel nothing less than powerful. Using his inventions on people who meant absolutely nothing? It was enjoyable, yes, but he did it on a daily basis. Using it on someone he had once cared for? Now that made it a little more interesting.

Gregory was patiently waiting for him as he stepped back into the Manor, closing the large front door behind him as his butler handed him a warm wash rag. "Thanks," he replied, taking the cloth and scraping away at the dried blood that had caked his skin. Moments after did he realize that the old man had draped a robe over his exposed body, hiding his scarred skin and robotic limbs as best as possible.

Motioning for her to sit at one of the living room couches, Buddy sat across from Mirage as he continued to clean himself off. "Alright, I'm here. You get what you want," he groaned, rolling his eyes at the circumstance he was now currently in. It was like they were young adults again, sitting with each other, talking about their thoughts and feelings. It was pathetic. "We can talk things out. But you need to start," he nearly spat at her.

"What in the hell did you do to me?"

Have you ever thought of marriage? ??

"Settle down with some broad when I can have literally any woman I want, any time I want? You're joking, right? No way, marriage isn't for me."

Even as he yelled at her from the doorway, Mirage didn’t miss a step, high heels clicking on the pavement as she made her way towards the gate. Fingers still tingling, she found herself flexing them and wringing them into the soft fur of her stole as she walked. It had been years since she’d done something like that, and even longer since it had been to that degree; it felt good.

Pausing as he spouted something about his image being ruined because she couldn’t get over him, she turned and shouted through the space between them with a grin.

"I’m sure you’ll get over it!” Juvenile, yes, but then again they were far past being adults at this point.

Not answering his last questions about her ability, she started towards her car once more, if he wanted answers he was going to have to physically stop her and even then she wasn’t sure she was in the mood to give them to him.

"Goddamnit, you stupid little..." he groaned to himself, frustrated hands once again pushing his hair from his blood stained face. She wasn't going to win this. She couldn't win this. With each step she took away from him, the more his anxiety and anger began to boil over. He needed answers from her, and he needed her to fix this. Whatever the hell she wanted from him in order to get what he wanted - well, he didn't want to think too ahead of himself.

Rolling his eyes at her immature remark, Syndrome didn't at all hesitate now into using his zero point energy. If there was one thing he was thankful for about his mechanical form, it was that his inventions were attached to him at all times. It definitely made up for the constant pain his body experienced due to his intense injuries.

As she remained frozen in her tracks, Syndrome cautiously stepped out onto the front walkway of the Manor. Shoes crunching against the stone pathway, he eyed her with utmost curiosity. She had mentioned super powers, he was sure of it. And these powers now had control over how his mind was functioning. Had she had these powers the entire time they had known each other? How had she managed to slip under his nose? He needed answers, and he needed them sooner than later. More importantly, she needed to fix whatever it was she had done to him.

"We're not kids anymore, Mirage," he spoke to her motionless form, his free hand gesturing back towards his home. "So let's settle this out like adults, alright? Now. Let's calm down a bit, take a deep breath, and head back inside. Gregory will make you whatever you damn well please, and we can talk. Preferably without me covered in some guy's blood," he snickered to himself, amazed his appearance hadn't seemed to bother her. "Think you can handle that?"

{I wish he did}

There it was, her limit, something he’d never reached before and if she had her way never would again. Anger and hurt rising as a single tear skated down her cheek, she reached for him, fingers tingling with a power begging to be used. She touched his face, a grin crossing her lips and his cocky smirk faded as her power took hold; her voice a gentle, hypnotic chime as years of repressed talent wrapped him in a fog so thick he would be hard pressed to come out of it.

“I could tell you that you love me…and I know you’d believe it right now…because that’s MY super power.” She considered him with a gentle regard as she continued, “I could make you wake and it could be as though I had never been anywhere other than at your side. I could build any reality I wanted in your head and nothing in this world could convince you that it’s not real…” She bit her lip and shook her head.

“But I wont…instead I am going to tell you exactly what I told you before and hope that maybe it will get through this time.” Pressing her forehead against his, she exhulted over him the most of her power that she dared–she didn’t want to snap his mind after all.

“I have loved you, Buddy Lionel Pine since we were children and everything I have ever done has been out of that love. Everything I have done and continue to do is done for the need of your well being.” And then there was something she wanted him to know, never said because she’d doubted he’d believe her. "I visited you after your accident but you weren’t awake and Gregory asked that I not return…“ she laughed gently, "for my own sake probably.”

With a deep breath in, she pulled back, green eyes staring into those icy blues for a long moment before deciding on something particularly cruel.

“From now on every woman will remind you of me, every waft of perfume, every touch of their hands, their lips, their intimate presence will make you think of when you loved me and when you can’t take it anymore, you will come find me and beg me to make you forget.”

{And if she were in a kinder mood she might agree.}

“Goodbye Buddy.” And with that, she released him, the sudden release of her hold over him enough to give her the time to get out the door before he was coherent enough to retaliate.

His eyes were filled with hatred as Mirage stepped towards him, her delicate hands reaching out to touch his face. The gesture only made him realize how physically broken he truly was -

Half of his face couldn't feel her touch.

The thought made his entire body cringe. Yes, he had wanted to be a Super. But not like this. He wasn't even a human anymore. He was nothing more than bits of pieces of titanium, holding his remaining human ligaments together so he could appear as if absolutely nothing were wrong with him.

He was just as physically broken as his sanity was.

Syndrome wanted to retaliate against her hands upon him, but he quickly realized he was unable to move. The vision in his remaining human eye had gone foggy, his mind seeming to drift into a daze as she spoke. What in the world was happening? What in the hell was she talking about? Nothing she spoke to him made any sort of sense until the words super powers slipped off her tongue.

Anger, once again, boiled within him as he did everything he possibly could to remove himself from her grasp, but to no avail. Even as her forehead rested against his, an easy target for him to attack, his body remained motionless. Her admission of love for him entered his mind, subtle images of his bloodied and unconscious form flashing before his eyes. And then, all he saw were images of her, and her alone. Memories of nights with other woman were quickly changed to flashes of Mirage. He couldn't remember ever being with her in the past eight years. He knew for a fact he hadn't. And yet his mind was filled of intimate moments with her and her alone.

Before he could even processed what had happened to him, Mirage had released her grasp from him. Eyes blinking back against whatever cruel trick she had played, Buddy shook his head against it, strands of orange hair falling over his icy eyes. He stood for a moment, silent and dazed, until the sound of the front door opening brought him back to his senses.

She had seen his scars. She had seen his limbs. And she had done something to him that she needed to fix. No way in hell was she just going to walk away from him like that.

"Mirage!" he shouted towards her, racing to the entry of his home. He desperately wanted to use his zero point energy to stop her, but he knew better. If he was going to get his way, he had to be calm with her. Mirage was just as stubborn as he was, he of all people knew that. Fighting fire with fire wasn't going to solve this little problem that she had, somehow, planted into his brain.

"Damn it," he groaned, "you always have to have the upper hand, don't you? Always! Every single damn time, you always have to one up me!" he groaned, standing beside his doorway, not wanting to step outside in his current state. "I swear Mirage, whatever you did to me, you need to fix. Now. I'm not going to blow my playboy image just because you haven't gotten laid in nearly a decade. Don't ruin my fun just because you refuse to get over me!"

"And you seriously have some explaining to do. I of all people should know what the hell all that was. Did I hear 'super powers' in that little tirade of yours? Please, enlighten me."

Patience

forstealys-blog

It was annoying, very VERY annoying. That this super-maniac had real talent. The way he drew up the model for her new gadget so quickly and with such efficiency and skill – the girl had to admit it. Buddy Pines had a real talent for what he did. She looked over the piece of paper and had to agree– the gadget looked very promising. Not too flashy, which suited her, and full of potential to help her with her powers.

“A bracelet,” She commented, after listening to all he had to tell her. “I’m not much of a jewelry person but…this does look really nice.”

She knew, unfortunately, that she had to cooperate with Buddy. And throwing him annoying, sarcastic comments and beating around the bush and meeting him only with hostility was not going to get her anywhere. It wasn’t going to help either of them become better people. Violet couldn’t keep it up – she wasn’t going to lie and say she didn’t like his designs. She actually liked them much more than she had thought she would.

“Honest opinion, I do like it. How long would it take you to make?” It would take her eons to try and make something as high tech as this probably was. She wasn’t into computers much – liking science just fine but preferring history. “I mean, probably a couple of days right? Is there anything we can do now to…I don’t know, make this meeting more productive?” After all, they hadn’t spent too much time together in reality, even though it felt like a very long time had past since she stepped into Dicker’s office.

Maybe, being with Buddy Pine did that to people.

Then, Violet thought of another thing, and said, “While I’m thinking about it– what should I call you?” After all, Violet couldn’t very well call him Syndrome, but she’d never called him anything else– her parents had never brought him up in conversation without calling him Syndrome, either.

#invisaviolet #synlet #patience

So she liked it. That was definitely a good start. "I could have it done by tomorrow. Two days, tops. It's pretty simple, nothing overly major. It'll be a basic prototype until we get all the kinks out - but we'll test all that before I send you out on the field with it," he reassured her, forcing a kind smile onto his features. "We can test it in the NSA training courses, so you feel comfortable. Dicker can even be there to observe, if you need him to," he said, before quickly adding, "but he might end up being there either way. I swear, that man will never trust me."

Reaching for his sketch and carefully placing it within Violet's NSA folder, Buddy stored her file within the top drawer of his desk. "Hm," he hummed at her words, his mind processing this new situation.

What did she mean more productive? What else could he do without looking suspicious? Test out her powers now? Ask her about her family? No, he had to take this slow. This needed to be a calculated process. He wasn't going to make any minor slip up. Everything he did with her had to be absolutely perfect.

His thoughts stopped for a brief moment when she questioned what she should be calling him. Syndrome of course would have been preferred - but that obviously wasn't going to be the case. The last time he had heard her call him that was at his trial eight years ago - the last time the two had lain eyes on each other. And now, here they were, in the same room as one another, working together.

It was all for his own little scheme of course, but she didn't need to know that just yet.

"We never did formally introduce ourselves, did we?" he gave a light chuckle, carefully extending his hand to her. "Call me Buddy. Agent Pine just sounds weird," he grinned. "I'd prefer to call you Violet, but if that makes you uncomfortable, I totally understand."

He didn't want to make any sudden moves, and he couldn't take a misstep from his calculated plan. But if Violet insisted on something, who was he to say no? Whatever she wanted to do, he'd allow it to happen. "We can do whatever you'd like to make this more productive," he told her, giving a small nod. "We can go over the entirety of your file, we can do a Q&A, we can play a game of checkers for all I care," he laughed to himself. "The ball is in your court, Violet."

sh-tuncletaemin

#; synful

Was it not your passion for something deeper that drove you? I see what's in the book, but I can't believe it's consumed you as much is it has. Do you find anything enjoyable? Anything that doesn't harm people?

"Woah, woah, I don't hurt people anymore. I'm a good guy now! I get enjoyment out of helping the common man. Nothing more staisfying than that."

When has hate ever yielded anything good for anyone? Have you tried making amends with mirage?

"Hate made me the CEO of a multi billion dollar coorporation, and it made me the poster child for the city of Mertroville. Seriously, read my autobigraphy, it's all in there. And as for what's-her-face, why should I? Doesn't benefit me. I did nothing wrong, nothing for me to make amends for."