Oh that makes a lot more sense now Wboon. Thanks!
Sigh, seems like the story’s only readers are only Al-Bob and TSS, and the former didn’t even comment on my latest chapter, even if it’s partial. I was hoping to attract the attention of other reviewers such as lennonluvr9 or bright dot-dasher, but they only review your stories, TSS. 
Ah, well, in anticipating the revelation of the second part of the chapter - and the brand new Super - I decided to post a little spoiler to calm myself down - and, of course, to entertain you guys. 
Feel free to drop a comment or two about this spoiler. However, read it at your own risk, as it’s a rather good scene. So, don’t read it. Just don’t. Leave it to the fools to spoil to for themselves. 
[spoiler]Though the device – obviously a blaster – took merely a second to recharge, it was enough for Violet’s recognition of it and to react accordingly – and in this case, with a generated force-field. Rydinger was just inches from panic, though, but he managed to keep himself stable enough to ready himself for a task of rescue. Nevertheless, before the trio was able to do anything, another occurrence lured in their attention – it lured in all’s attention.
Before the man – or beast – in the metallic suit was able to fire whatever it was across his palm at his target, a cone-shaped projectile hit the side of his hand, causing a misfire to occur. His attack, a thick, white flash of laser, hit one of the linen-covered walls instead, resulting in a larger hole to be formed at the side of the theater. A parent and his son, while standing at the cinema hall holding ZARD•E merchandises, stared through the opening in confusion.
“What the…?” the still floating being remarked while rubbing his sore hand with the other.
“Put down your blasters. You wouldn’t want to hurt an innocent girl, would you,” a younger voice, not part of the crowd gathered under the broken ceiling, commented, “Spectre-san?”
The little illumination available aided the mysterious arrival in cloaking his identity, leaving only an outline of his body amidst the blanket of darkness. He seemed short, but not enough to be younger than 12.
Upon hearing the smooth voice of the theater’s latest guest, a hint of annoyance was expressed through a short snort audible from beneath the armored man’s visor, as if he was threatened. Nevertheless, he made attempts in hiding his fear by shrouding it with confidence.
“I should had known that you’d come,” the masked villain replied while making landing on the flooring, the fumes disappeared as he did, “saving damsels in distress has always been your hobby.”
“Barou,” the seemingly young hero firmly inserted in a determined tone, “she’s innocent but not in distress, I came here to apprehend you, not rescue the independent teenager.”[/spoiler]Very well done Wboon…
I loved the description that most authors here miss…it was a great chapter to revive my senses about descriptive compositions.
Personally, I don’t really care much about descriptions. 
I just put them there as part of my writing so it looks good.
What about the character interactions and the dramatic emotions shared between the characters, though? What do you think of the way story is going, guys? I want to hear more about those stuff, not about how well I allegedly write.
I loved many parts of the story…
the emotions of kari and Vi…it really brings up wonder and questions as to why…
also bob and the chevy…i like dry humor that someone does when they are in a tight situation…“wrong move”…loved that part.
All in all the chapter was a great success. It captivated my attention and brought emotions that exciting chapters should bring…well done.
Why-what? Be specific, Bob. XD
Sorry, I couldn’t resist! xD
Anyway, the reasons for those emotions are merely regarding the guilt of betraying a (best) friend and sacrifice for the sake of friendship. I was afraid they were going to cause confusions, but I can only explain this much; not because I don’t want to spoil it for you, but because it’s beyond my capabilities to explain further. 
Anyway, thanks for dropping your review, much appreciated, and be sure to catch the next part of the chapter coming very soon (in a few days’ time)! I’ve got more time for the fan fic recently.
Sweet can’t wait wboon
Since I realize not everyone is willing to make an account on FanFiction.net, I thought I might as well post my stories here in Pixar Planet Forums. So, here they are, the two (and a half) chapters to the story… and the prologue, of course. 
Previously On The Incredibles…
Swoosh! As the glossy surface of two skates slided above a slippery bridge of icicles, the hero in the sober suit leapt off the edge before blasting the machine to his left with two jets of nitrogen gas gathered from the air in the short, limited time. Only seconds were required for his objective; for the frostings to gradually cover the structure, whether partially or entirely. The icings were indeed formed around the rusty metals, along with The Underminer himself, who was controlling the crumbling device… used for the commonly encountered plan of “world dominating.”
“Now!” Lucius Best signaled upon impacting on the asphalt.
As if the icy partner’s command was programmed into Mr. Incredible’s mind, the weighty one instantaneously charged towards the mechanism, before hitting it with a full blow of his left fist, sending the machinery, along with the owner crashing onto the large detachment just meters away.
“No!” he yelled, his mount struck the large robot-resembling compartment below, creating fluttering smoke trails and rosing fire resulted in the combusted iron crashing into the mountains below, with a softening elongated moan signifying the villain’s exit.
“Nooooooooooo!”
“Honey! Kids!” exclaimed the plump, blond man with red spandex threads spreaded throughout his hulking body. His dark, leathery glove waved to the distance, where a middle-aged woman, in a similar suit as his, stood relieved upon presuming his unharmed status. Her arms were wrapped around the bottom of an infant whose clothing matched that of the abovementioned chub. Two children, a preadolescent and a teenager had their discomfort discharged, too, after having catching sight of their blubbery father, despite their knowledge of his ample chances of surviving.
“Man, we were crazy to save the world today,” moaned the slender one in the pair, his brightly-threaded arms draped over his thighs, hence his torso lowered. As the Incredible family came rushing towards the duo, his white glove was rubbed about his neck, that which Mr. I was about to smash his giant palm beneath, causing tall-dark-and-frozen to duck away by inches… till the large hand was carefully rested above his shoulder, with a final remark from him ending the strenuous episode.
“Cool.”
In the distance, approximately twenty meters away, a figure whose features were shrouded by the shade of a tree and glassed away by a pair of gloomy but radical shades, kept watch. The curvy physique and the little light streaking from the top of the person suggested a possible identity we all know of. Regardless, the being gradually raised a finger gently against the right ear, where a thin rod-shape object protrude out of, its end resided near the stranger’s cheek, hinting a receiver and a radio in presence.
“This is Kilo 117, Alpha India and Beta Foxtrot have destroyed the target…”
[u][b]Chapter One: An Innocent Morning[/b][/u]
A hundred sixty. A hundred seventy. A hundred eighty. It kept rising, the meter, yet it would not affect the family, at all. Chances are, a simple excuse involving a criminal pursuit would put off most traffic police, at least according to Incredible's logic of thinking anyway.
He was greatly proud of the “Incredi-car”'s remarkable features; the ability to instantaneously shift from one direction to the other in split seconds, the built in rocket engine and fuel capable of blasting a shuttle into the depths of space, and of course, the large “i” slapped across the crimson hood representing the title of his team, among the many other magnificent aspects of the dynamic machinery, rodding its streamlined physique through the asphalt jungle of Metroville City. Traveling at up to five hundred meters per hour,
Western View Junior High, an everyday educational facility for zealous teen-aged students to possess knowledge while having his, or her own place in that conflictive society. The principle “survivor of the fittest” was often applied here. How one behaves in the community mattered. How one dresses in the community mattered. How one travels mattered.
Supers are no exception. But Supers are not seen to take up humanly occupations. Schooling, for example.
With the recent advancement in finance, largely provided by the mystifying ex-villainess, “Mirage,” even an ordinary family van provided by the parents (or at least in this case, the father) would put off most adolescents from criticizing and rather, have them put in a certain amount of recognition.
Skidding above the heated asphalt in its “Family Van” mode, the engine of the latest arrival died off momentarily after its patterned rubbers were set beside the bustling pavement. While most students of variant shapes and sizes hurriedly marched towards the pair of cyan doors where a formally dressed character was overseeing his students' ingress while, from time to time, hustling them into the building through gestures and remarks. A natural and expected action from Principal Stanton of Western View. Strict and disciplined as he might be, Stanton Watson was known to be a caring, kind man with his concerns over the students' future expressed through his stringent etiquettes. Each morning, the man would stand proudly by the right entry door of the building, displaying that forceful smile through those thick layers of silver hairs forming his glistening U-shaped beard and mustache aligning with it. His sharp tongue would firmly insert a “Good morning” greeting into each student's frontal, forcing them to reply in respect, a value Stanton himself (along with half of the teachers round the globe) wished to promote among all students within the school ground.
“Here we are, honey,” Helen Parr noted, to which her daughter reacted minorly, if not passively. The young lady was eying her principal. Somehow... just somehow, he seemed... different, that day. Of course, all those deep thoughts would had been disturbed by a noise or another eventually. In that case, it was one resembling a dying engine, yet its source was very much notable indeed...
“Pssh! This stop, Western View Junior High!” a dark voice bellowed from the driver's seat. “Please mind the steps when alighting from the vehicle. Thank you.”
Everyone in the family was more than used to such playful remarks.
“Have a great day ahead, honey!” a voice exclaimed from behind as Violet Parr had her petite feet landed on the tiled flooring.
She knew it would had been a great day, and to some probability, her mother, too. Only three months have passed and much has changed. She was confident, receptive, and proud of who she is.
And most of all, that day was a Friday.
“Don't forget a snatch a kiss from Tony Rydinger!” a smirking Dashell Parr snuck in an extra comment, to which Violet and Helen did nothing as response but performed a roll of their pupils - though in a light-hearted manner.
“I'll see you later tonight,” the brunette smiled cheerfully, giving her ascended fingers a little wiggle towards her mother. Before departuring into the rushing people, Helen's stretching neck got herself reeling in a final remark before their departure. “And be sure to place nails on Mr Kropp's seat this time. Thumbtacks are weak!”
And upon a laughter, the van drove off, leaving only a single, rising trail of chalky smoke amidst the air.
Eight-thirty, second period, math class, a third of them were awake, though it did not occur to Bernie Kropp as a surprise with Dashell being one of them. His eyes were kept sharp, thrown straight into those of Parr, whose arrogant smile only continued to boil the rage steaming behind his seemingly unfazed expression. The second hand on the clock above his nearly bald head was in a hurry to completely consume the students' little remaining time for their sudden, unannounced pop quiz. Dash was finished with the test itself, and with the operation to retrieve another “colorful” grade that can be placed in the word, “First.”
“Mph,” he sighed through his nostrils while laying his pen against the side of completed tests neatly stacked, his olive pupils gradually blanketed by his eyelids.
And then, he stood up. He began to distance himself from the crumbly stool in a walking fashion.
“I'll be back, class,” he said to the class without composing a single eye contact towards them. “Finish your last few questions.”
And with that, he stepped out of the room. Out of the room, but not far away from it, Bernie Kropp surveyed his stool carefully. Nothing. No sudden flashes striking from thin air. No faint color shades darting across his vision. No nothing. Just his plastic, stiff stool.
He waited. i'Just for a few more seconds,'/i he thought. i'Just a little longer before something will turn up... or unless, it's turned up already.'/i
Adjusting his striking black tie and inhaling a big gulp of breath, he ripped open his eyelids once more, preparing to charged right into the enemy's trap.
One step brought him into the class' point of view...
another brought a grin to the avid little blondie...
and a third set the heads of every student resumingly buried into their tests...
all except one, whose confident smile only brought annoyance and increasing caution to the glaring baldie.
“Humph,” he snorted upon reaching the edge of his stool, though his butt had yet to be rested on the seat.
He lowered his bottom, readied to finally catching his adversary in his mischievous act. His supporting palms locked upon the glimmering tabletop, his bent elbows were made readied to be sprung up, and his buttocks were only a foot away from the murky platform. Seconds passed, and the only person worth noticing was the teacher in class himself – as declared from the staring eyes of the students. But yet, he was stable. He knew his actions were deemed unusual by the pupils, but he was stable, and prepared. And just when the top of his linen-threaded trousers were merely inches away from his seat, he jumped.
“Aha!” he shouted, his back turned against the class, his index finger pointed towards his seating – his empty seating – and his eyes running wild across it in search of the prankster's tools.
Yet, once again, nothing, nothing but the slight howling of the wind constantly hissing through the cracked window to the side of Mr Kropp – still scanning his stool for any residues left behind in hurry. After clearing his doubts and confirming the truth, little streams of hot air was breathed through his nostrils in a sighing manner. Immediately, he arched back towards the students with a grim look hanging across his face. Those stares had yet to leave the room – neither had that grin of that egoistic child. Deciding to break the ice, he started.
“Is something the matter, Mr Kropp?”
Having being cornered by the seemingly innocent question, he had no choice but to put out the flame for the day.
“No, Dashell,” he forcefully answered while keeping his target locked, unwilling to let it out of his sight, “nothing is of peculiar at all... nothing... noth...”
As his sentence was coming to an end and his body coming to a sitting posture, the sudden appearance of a noise drew his attention towards the hissing window to his right, towards something that which broke through the glossy panes and landed upon his desk, leaving fragments of shattered glass. Not wasting – or just plain not bothering to use – any time to think, he picked up the diamond-shaped widget and threw the hand holding it towards a particular blondie.
“Aha! What do we have here, Mr Parr?” he shot, displaying the flashing object in front of the class.
However, its constant beeping, added along with its familiar appearance, suggested its possible identity – a bomb. Bob had told his children of stories revolving round a certain incident which might be a consequential factor of all Supers' downfall, the story where a certain , beeping, flashing object caused the destruction of the railway.
As his teacher had so hurriedly to come into a conclusion, he too dashed between each desks in a humanly-possible speed, hoping to grab the explosive in time before his class – including himself – turn to crisp.
“Mr Kropp, watch out!” he yelled crazily upon arriving below his teacher's arm, that which Bernie constantly rises in order to prevent the child from retrieving what might possibly be another of his tools of the trade.
“Uh uh uh!” he retorted while shaking his index across the youngster's expression of urgency. “You can get this back after you pay a visit – ianother/i visit to the principal's office!”
Seeing his doom, along with that of the occupants of the cubicle was near, the young ex-prankster devised a plan in the minimum amount of seconds.
“Principal Anderson!” he exclaimed, having his eyes shot behind his teacher's once smirking face, that which had been dropped in replacement by one of surprise.
And yet again, without thinking, the gullible teacher performed the expected action of looking behind him, giving young Dashell Parr to snatch the metallic device from his teacher's fist – having loosened upon Bernie's attention being diverted.
“Hey!” shouted the middle-aged man, having his attention redirected upon his student.
Nonetheless, young Dash had thrown his arm forward by the time his teacher caught hold of the student's actions. Seconds after he let his fingers go, both persons – along with the rest of the class – watched the tiny machinery flung out of another glass pane, thus creating another similar noise. Much to the juvenile hero's surprise, the tiny widget merely crashed onto the solid flooring below, rather than igniting an expected huge explosion.
Of course, this just confirmed, to Bernie Kropp, that it was another of young Dashell's pranks – not a very good one, either. Thus, the impassive teacher moved on from the unneeded episode.
“You know the way,” he remarked, his face unchanged, “Mr Parr.”
Embarrassed, young Dashell Parr momentarily stepped towards the exit in a period of time longer than Mr Kropp preferred. Maybe it was that descended head, those gloomy eyes, and the tense moment that decreased the rate of the flow of time. Maybe it was simply due to the fact that Mr Parr had too little for breakfast that morning. Maybe... everyone was just so used to such routine that time almost seemed like it stopped.
But in the fictional world, with every discontinuation, there will always be, in a matter of time, a continuation, even if it does not last as long. And in this case, a sudden ignition burst to life – like the noise of an engine of an automobile – bringing a gradual turn of attention to the moping young lad, along with that of the others. It seemed that the young boy's hunch was going to be accurate after all – as much as he did not want it to be. Though of course, to Bernie Kropp, the toy just needed to be turn off by its owner.
“Mr Parr,” he uttered, “turn off this thing!”
Fuddled by the disruptive mechanism, it was a perfect opportunity for appropriate actions – appropriate at least in this scenario – to be taken. Zapping his way through the crowd and escaping all eyes in the room, young Dashell immediately snatched the device out of his form teacher's loosened grip, and not having a second doubt this time, out of the cracked window with shattered glass the device he threw.
“DASHELL!” exclaimed Kropp who was more bewildered than furious – though the mustached man possessed both emotions at that moment. split second was all that given for his exclamation to be heard, as right after his mouth was released from closure, his arms were spontaneously thrown up his eyes upon having jolted with a flash of lighting.
To everyone – especially Dashell's – surprise, the tiny device did not burst up, exploded, or combusted into flames. Instead, what was left behind sucked, literally.
Chapter 2: A Sinister Plan
It was a portal. An oval, absorbing portal, gradually pulling in bigger items with the passing seconds, from dust molecules to that crushed ball of paper lying above Sid Detten’s vandalized desk. The flat piece of portal vertically clinging to the air seemed to lead to the space; the patch of darkness showered with myriad jewel stars lighting paths across the universe.
The astounded students and Mr. Kropp, equally taken aback, merely stared blankly at the hovering oval, holding their footing firmly against the dusted floor, not noticing the bits of tiny objects gently brushing past their shoulders for an instant. Even Dashell Parr, who had witnessed weirder things in life, stood frozen as he gazed upon the mystifying sight, seemingly waiting, along with the others, for another occurrence to take place.
It might had been due to his observant nature that had led Dashell to be the first in noticing the floating particles across his classroom, or it might had been because of the pencil, increasing in its speed of flight, darting by the corner of his eye, nearly scratching his bare white, gentle skin with the pointed tip of it.
Dash looked around. Heavier objects began to be flung towards the portal – pencil boxes, water bottles, and even his normally bulky backpack – all at a shocking amount of acceleration. As seconds began to race by, even Dash felt himself being momentarily tugged in towards the shadowy opening to the mysterious realm. Naturally, that was sufficient in receiving the attention of others.
“Dashell!” cried out Mr. Kropp, his eyes staring at his student struggling to break free of the absorbing force, before feeling it pulling him away as well.
Dash, using all the strength he was able to gather in his little body, tried to run away from the black hole-like object. He rapidly rubbed his feet against the flooring at lightning speed in attempt of charging as far away from the portal as he would be able to. By that moment, all of his classmates had been rapidly pulled into the portal, though none of them had been successfully dragged through it, yet. Nevertheless, they franticly screamed their lungs out as they held their fingers to whatever they could have grabbed onto, and their teacher could only watched as he himself struggled not to be pulled into wherever that portal would lead to as well.
With all the commotion going on, no one naturally noticed Dash’s barely visible feet rapidly moving at intense speed – fortunately, too. Unfortunately, however, the force was getting stronger per second and thus, was strong enough to finally sucked Dashell even off his fulgurant feet.
“DASHELL!” Mr. Kropp cried out again, raising his voice this time in shock.
As much as large a rivalry both the mischievous student and the stringent teacher possessed with each other, neither person would desire for harm to reach the opposite member, and obviously, as a teacher in charge of his students, Mr. Kropp would be most hysterical amongst them all.
In panic, he let go of his grip on the desk of a pupil and let himself be flung towards Dash’s direction. Within half a second, he arrived beside the terrified student, and he only had merely portions of another second to perform his rescue. Panic struck him again, causing him to forcefully shove his student away with his arms from the possible danger and onto the floor with a safe landing.
Naturally, his bold move was capable of only saving one of them.
“Mr. Kropp!” Dash yelled out to his teacher who was at then, flung through the portal. “No!”
Gradually, Bernie Kropp decreased in size in the students’ point of view, his body helplessly whirling into the darkness, while an expression depicting a mixture of fear and relief hung across his face. Dashell realized the reason for the latter seconds after Kropp began to disappear into the pitch black – the absorbing force was gone, too. Dash and the rest of the students were firmly secured on the ground. A few more moments passed and the portal began to shrink as well, except that it really was decreasing in size rather than being distanced away from the students. The portal was closing.
Immediately, without giving a second thought, Dash leaped off his feet and charged towards the enclosing opening, but even with his superhuman speed, he was merely able to grab the gaseous remains of the portal before crashing with disappointment.
With his palms firmly pinned to the floor, he raised his head and looked above, only to find the ceiling fan twirling above him. Mr. Kropp was no longer there. With a heavy exhalation, Dash returned his head below once again in attempt of grabbing a hold of the situation.
“Mr. Kropp…” he mumbled, still unwilling to believe his teacher’s sacrifice.
In another part of Metroville City in the late hours of the busy morning, another Parr was having problems of her own. Scrambling through the neatly organized books and stationeries, Violet Parr anxiously searched through her rusty, denim-colored locker for an important item. The large amount of effort put in by her was evidenced by the glistening blanket of perspiration across her corn-silk forehead and down her slender, tawny neck, just right above the white collar of her airy sports jersey.
Among the hastening students darting through the populous corridor, one of them came walking in her direction instead. The approacher had her usual tangerine ponytail let down that day, leaving her hair to descend halfway down her pink, sleeveless tank top hanging from her publicly exposed shoulders by two barely visible lines of transparent straps. Evidently, the approached had her attention fully focused on the search for the missing item, as she would at least shudder with the approach of a person she would barely recognize, especially when the person was staring at her with a big grin filled with shiny pearl teeth. Apparently, her bracers were taken off, too.
“So?” she exclaimed loudly upon reaching the side of her best friend, who took two seconds to cease herself from burying her head into the locker in order to perceive the source of the familiar voice. “What do you think?”
Confusingly, she gazed at the redhead as she slowly slanted her left brow upwards in expression of her ignorance in her identity.
“Erm…” she began mumbling under an awkward tone, “are you… sure you got the right locker?”
The stranger, or the person seemingly being one, gave a short chuckle in amusement. Though her appearance had been altered, she remained to give out those snorts after each burst of laughter, and in turn, they gradually hinted Violet in the identity of her mysterious friend.
“KARI?!” she exclaimed with her eyes forced outwards from her sockets, finally seeing the makeover her best friend had went through.
“Pretty rad,’ huh?” replied Kari Mckeen with a smoother voice than the usual one she produced through her bracers.
She further swiveled her weightless hair in each direction towards Violet in signifying the parts that went through modification, though her best friend was more concerned about another altered aspect.
“Who did this to you?!” Violet upsettingly questioned while retaining the look of disbelief.
She urgently wanted to find out the fairy god mother of that massive transformation – she knew it had to be the work of another, considering Kari’s sense of fashion. Though she was undoubtedly amazed at her best friend’s new, and skimpy, look – even her freckles were powdered within – she could not help being concerned about what attention that appearance would bring. Heck, even she herself, being the fashionable one among the two, would never dress in such manner to save her the trouble of avoiding peeping eyes.
“Oh, c’mon, Violet” retorted Kari with a tsk and her head slightly turned away, she lifted her left hand casually and threw it down towards Violet in gesturing how lightheartedly she felt towards the matter, before tucking her hands onto her waists, “I don’t think it looks that awful.”
“No, no, no!” Violet hurriedly replied, her head shaking in denying having negative thoughts regarding her best friend’s dressing. “You look awesome!”
Naturally, Kari was glad to hear of Violet’s positive opinions, and in turn, let down her arms from her body and gained a short moment of a gentle smile in between her wheat-colored cheeks; till the latter gulped in a short breath before performing a troubled sigh.
“Kari…” Violet slowly began in the tense atmosphere, while Kari raised her brow at her this time, “you wouldn’t want to get that kind of attention drawn to you. You know how boys can be…”
Before the concerned friend was able to finish, her statement was cut short by a burst of chuckle accompanied with yet, another snort tagged behind. Expectedly, she was taken aback by her friend’s rude attitude towards her concern.
“C’mon!” Kari exclaimed cheerfully, her torso was arched forward when she did, her arms rested on her knees, thus bringing her eyes just below Violet’s visage in an adorable manner. “I’ll be fine! It’s Kari Mckeen you’re worried about!”
Violet gave out another breath; from her inconspicuous nostrils this time. She went on to lower her head but kept her eyes raised and remained locked on the standing Kari, forming a doubtful look.
“Akai Tanner might notice us,” added Kari, her widened right eye tilted towards her while she elongated the large grin across her soft, rose lips in a last ditch effort of convincement.
Violet let out a little laugh, causing some strands of her silky, smooth hair to fall onto her cotton made shirt. The contagious nature of even the short laugh naturally caused Kari to join in, too; with a longer one which caused the need for her to cover her exposing mouth with her hand, before both helplessly succumbed to continuous laughter, thinking about what it would had been like with the coolest guy in school checking them out.
“Hi, girls,” a deep voice cracked out abruptly from nowhere, “what’s the joke?”
It was as if the very vibrations of the sound had stunned the two, as they took a couple of seconds to struggle past their disbelief and place their eyes on the crisp-brown face of that which belongs to Akai Tanner.
As the short moment of skepticism seeped away, Akai gradually perceived the warning signs counseling him to shield his ears from the oncoming screaming girls – the moderate raising of arms, the breathing increasing in length, and the eyes bulging in size.
“AHHHHHH!”
Fortunately, Akai was more than used to this type of commotion, and had tucked his tragi against his eardrums before the voices even managed to reach the esophagus. After he sensed that the faint hums tickling his ears had disappeared, he reopened his squelching eyes again to see the zealous redhead whispering – and squealing – enthusiastically to an interesting young girl who remained impassive to his appearance, her tender eyes merely focused on her best friend’s speech.
Akai Tanner, 14, fine and black-haired, gamboge-toned, captain of the Western View soccer team – the Spartans. Now here is a guy with a mysterious past. His school record showed no information on his parents, location of his home, his origin – nothing. Heck, it was a surprise that he was even allowed to register at the Junior High. Nevertheless, he was a top player of the team, and naturally, a popular jock among the student body.
However, it appeared that not every girl was a big fan, much less a fan at all.
He was not upset by the lack of attention from this one. As a matter of fact, he was intrigued by her. As if struck by a spell, he helplessly continued his gaze at the eyes of the pink beauty and her glamorous thin hair-band slid across the center of her hair. His tawny face was blank without any expression. From one moment to another, she returned a few quick stares before ignoring him totally once more. Despite being tackled with her cold attitude, he gently spread his crimson lips and smiled. It was an undeniable “love at first sight” moment.
When Violet – along with a slightly puzzled Kari – noticed that his attention was, for the past half a minute, actually placed entirely on her, she began to exchanged another set of short looks, except this time, of awkwardness, as evidenced by her fiercely blushing rosy cheeks.
Naturally, a green little monster inevitably appeared.
Kari was never the attention of many, much less the attention of any. After Violet gained her self-confidence, Kari was obviously joyous for her best friend’s openness to society. But at that moment, Violet’s changed personality did not seem to be as much of a delightful news to Kari.
Of course, she would be the last person to let her jealousy gets in her friendship, thus she dare not expressed her envy, especially not when she was asked of her status by her concerned best friend.
“Kari?” inquired Violet worryingly, her attention taken away from Akai and focused on the insecure redhead. “What’s wrong?”
Rushing thoughts began to congest her mind, causing her to inadvertently let loose her troubled expression and in turn, causing Violet to be more concerned about her friend than the observing jock or the onlooking public, whose concerns were obviously not placed on the two girls, but rather on the their disregard for the worshipped idol.
Upon noticing the populating audience and her best friend worrying herself with what was actually sinful jealousy, Kari shook off her sorrowful look and forced an assuring smile into the open.
“Nothing,” she cheeringly replied with a long shrug, keeping her shoulders raised for as long as the confused stares shot at her lasted, before wrapping her arms round her belly while arching her torso downwards. “…stomach cramp. Yeah, that’s it.”
Assuming that it was all that there was, the crowd accepted the excuse and moved their attention away from the scene, including a still concerned Violet who offered her aid in assisting Kari to the girl’s room.
“That’s alright now,” giggled Kari, her arms still tied around her stomach as she slowly backed away with her delightful smile remaining on display throughout her departure, “you two just… have a nice chat now, you hear?”
“O… okay…” Violet hesitantly replied as she watched Kari gently turned away before withdrawing herself from the onlooking pair. “I… I think I better…”
“Yeah,” Akai voiced out, his reply surprised the brunette, causing her to spin around and stare upon the unusual jock. “You better.”
She gave a petite smile but one that expressed satisfaction. The popular student returned that smile before, hurriedly, she turned away and rushed in Kari’s direction, while he gazed on at the unique teenage girl; a girl as different from any of his adoring fans as the teenage girl had perceived him as.
[u][b]Chapter 3: Life - Part One[/b][/u]
Meanwhile, in an emptier portion of the labyrinthine city littered with tumbling scrapes of waste paper, among other unattended garbage, a faint echo of screeching placidly drifted along the end of the street as the smooth curves of a 1949 Fleetline Chevrolet was driven across the dusted asphalt, its passengers - three perspiring middle-aged men capping fedoras above their tops - panicking.
Around the corner not far away from Chevrolet, another vehicle came screeching round a sharp end this time, fishing in the attention of the runaways, in which one of them spun around only to discover their ‘incredible’ pursuer was just few yards away from contact.
The pursuing crimson machine, driven by a chubby figure clothed with threads of a similar color, was abruptly blasted towards its target upon the ignition of the semi-protruding nozzle near its tail end. Within seconds, the slender red vehicle was a few feet away from the ignorant suited men; ignorant of its impending contact, till the curious one spun his head round his seat once more.
“That Super is right behind our tail!” he vehemently informed.
In distress and sheer panic, the driver of the Chevrolet hurriedly reached under the fallow suit overlapping his black blouse, his hand grabbing a dark handheld device upon pulling it out, before thrusting his torso out of the window beside while maneuvering the wheel with his other hand. After spending a split second in aiming, he frenziedly pulled the trigger of the device – a .38 caliber Makarov semiautomatic pistol. A few rounds of it managed to scratch off the surface of the ‘Incredibile,’ but merely that.
“Hey! Watch the paintjob!” exclaimed a frustrated Mr. Incredible, despite the little damage dealt.
Desiring to end this escapade, the Super swiveled his automobile round the tail end of the Chevrolet and floored his way to its side, where both parties made eye contacts for the first time.
“You know, that 1949 Fleetline Chevrolet looks like a magnificent piece of machinery,” he began, his eyes scanned across the smooth texture of the aligning car, “I would hate to have it turned history.”
“Turn this!” the mundane driver abruptly retorted, his hands vigorously swiveled the wheel to the left, sending the Chevrolet skidding towards the Incredibile.
‘Wrong move.’
In the split second that follows – heck, possibly even a quarter of it – the crimson red Incredibile came to an instant stop at a dime, causing the Chevrolet to be helplessly thrust to a nearby store behind the pavement and thus, sending it crashing on its side.
Worried about the criminals’ fate, Incredible hurriedly stepped out of his stationary vehicle and darted towards the wreckage at a moderate rate.
Upon arriving, he gave a short breath of relief after perceiving no leakages of oil any other signs of combustion, just the mildly injured crooks he was pursuing since thirty minutes ago, not long after their heist at the Metroville City Bank.
With ease, he readjusted the Chevrolet to its upright position, before opening the door gently in reaching the robbers within; even a rugged man such as himself would had been able to comprehend the extravagance of this treasure.
Pulling out the bad guys was another matter.
Recklessly, he tugged on the expensive cloth suits of the criminals like rag dolls – with limited strength, of course – before piling the trio against each other and the body of their transportation.
His duty was performed – for then, till his keen eyes caught a peculiar feature on one of the unconscious men; a petite tattoo needled across the side of his neck that was merely the word…
“Sin,” he read it softly.
As if froze by the very name itself, he stood there for several moments, pondering the link between the robbery and the mysterious title. Nevertheless, after half a minute of silence, he thought no more of the matter, returned to his car and drove away from the senseless criminals whose heads still frowned upon his departure.
Nightfall, 982 P. P. Avenue, Metroville City, Parr apartment.
The intense, heated rays of the radiant sunlight remained in beating violently on the rusted rooftops of dully colored automobiles. The dusty sidewalks reaching into the horizon seemed ever so long and never-ending, at least to a certain lonely, super-powered individual.
Notwithstanding her inhuman abilities, she was unable to resolve certain matters in life. She saw Tony Rydinger again. He was talking about the evening later, when their movie date would take place. She was more than delighted about her first date in her once dull, insecure life, ever, especially when it involved such an appealing, charming student whom she had a crush on for as long as she could remembered.
At first, just moments after she left her relating new acquaintance, she could not locate Mckeen anywhere on the school-ground, till she managed to catch her came lethargically slouching out of a bathroom. The lower part of Kari's face was glistening with moisture, a sign hinting her previous tearing that which she, naturally, attempted to conceal by turning away from Violet. But, clearly, even a fool would had known better than that, especially with presence of the soft but audible sniveling Kari attempted to stash away under her lowered head. As her best friend, especially one with such a wonderful status of life, Violet had tried her best in reaching out to her, but nevertheless, her generous deed was only returned with false claims of a positive status.
“I’m al… it’s…” replied Kari with a blatantly reluctant smile.
Kari's reply was slower this time – dilatory, rather – her pretentious expression of contentment was gradually reduced to her true feeling of sourness. Once again, Violet made an attempt in understanding her troubles by placing her hand on Kari's slouched shoulder in expression of her desperate desire to help… but no; it was not to be, yet. In Kari’s eyes, her best friend was having the time of her life, at the top of her game. There was no way she would ruin that for Violet, not especially if it would mean the return of her taciturn attitude.
Tenderly, she removed Violet’s arm from her shoulder, slightly gaping her delicate lips to inhale a deep wind of breath before exhaling it a second later. The egress of that gush of air left a trace of that familiarly feigned smile. It slowly grew in size till it was conspicuous enough for notice.
“It’s alright,” Kari shot out quickly but with a casual tone, her visage delightfully facing that of Violet in ensuring a clear message was sent.
Sluggishly, she dragged herself away from the needless dilemma with hopes of, if possible, not ever requiring to confront the issue again, while Violet stared helplessly at her depressive friend blending among the passing strangers, her stretching arm momentarily descended towards her side, her heart deeply unsure of what should had and should had not been done.
It got worse when her forthcoming boyfriend approached - just minutes after.
She felt that a reject was appropriate, that it was unfair for her to enjoy this day while the greatest friend she ever had in her life kept her sorrows secret just not to spoil her day, especially when she knew it was Violet’s first official date this day.
Nevertheless, with a tearful heart and angled eyes staring onto an empty corner across the flooring, she went along with the date while filled with utmost guilt clawing her chest.
Rydinger might had been a jockey, but Violet’s troubled mind was blatantly displayed. He asked, of course, but under such a pressured state, naturally the only reply she could had given was the false smile seen all too many times for the day. Tony perceived the insincerity, yet, unwilling to pressurize and being rather unknowledgeable regarding the mind of a teenage female, he played along, too, as both pretentious individuals went through with the awkward evening together till the night.Man, this chapter is really long, so long that it is not completed yet - sorry. But don’t worry, it’s close to completion. Just one more part and a few more days, guaranteed. Till then, here is part 2 of Chapter 3. For those with FF.net accounts, Chapter 3 is updated, too.
[u][b]Chapter 3: Life - Part Two[/b][/u]
Metroville Cineplex, 7:30PM. The only ticket booth standing by the entrance of the building was filled with a long but ordered queue, a usual sight on a Friday night at the Cineplex. The movies featured that night were great, too.
One of the wide variety of films available there was a creature feature about a green, building-sized Tyrannosaurus ‘Rex who rampaged his way through cities everyday but failed to intimidate any people in his life.
Another one told the story of a brilliant scientist’s theory of relativity, a black-and-white documentary showing Alberto Agatha’s life and death during the early ‘80s.
There was even a retelling of the Supers’ beginning, their fall during the Super Relocation Program and Mr. Incredible’s triumph over Syndrome with the aid of his family of Supers – all citizenship names altered, of course.
Despite all the tempting choices given that night, the distressed couple had booked tickets for a movie of a difference choice long before their date took place; “ZARD·E,” a science fiction romance about a 113 years old cleaner robot working in a starship throughout its entire life, before it met its love interest; another robot of a more advanced technology. Neither of the mature duo found a movie of such childish elements to be appealing, of course, but a movie of romantic elements seemed appropriate for that special night, and that movie was the only one possessing such elements.
Nevertheless, they had no regrets for their choice, only for their false display of feelings. For thirty minutes, they sat side by side in awkwardness.
Violet had changed at school before their date, of course, into something more comfy. The sportswear she wore for her afternoon track-and-field club activities looked cool on her, but it was not a suitable wear for a date. Hence, she changed into a pink, cotton-filled, long-sleeved sweater reaching above her neck for additional warmth. A pair of Prussian-blue jeans might not had been the most suitable garment in matching her cute top, but it matched her style alright, and it definitely matched her soon-to-be boyfriend’s cerulean dungarees and his red number 14 Spartan jersey with the small BNL sponsor icon by the right of the front.
She showered – of course – at the school, though, meaning that she had no knowledge of the equally troubling events occurring at home…
Despite the attractive clothing they had picked beforehand, the night was still constrained by guilt and insecurity.
They had bought drinks and popcorn like most of the patrons, but the food was untouched. The movie brought warmth to others, but they felt cold – not from the chilling air but from each other – each individual wanting to throw words onto the other’s visage but couldn’t find the courage to do so.
It goes without saying that Violet had utmost fascination for Rydinger and the same could be said for Tony towards Parr. Nevertheless, Kari’s friendship meant a lot more to Violet; her obvious jealousy had made courting the jockey the least of Violet’s desires that night.
For Rydinger, however, it was a mixture of insecurity and cowardice that sealed his lips. Out of the many female classmates he had laid eyes upon, this one was special. Thus, when their first date was filled with unfriendly treatments, naturally, a boy of such humility would be cautious in his words and assumed the problem being himself.
Yet, both knew that confrontation must be made at some point if the relationship was to progress. Inhaling a deep breath, both dug deep for bravery, while hoping the next few words wouldn’t be the last.
“There’s something…” both blurted out – loudly, triggering the throwing of hushes.
Seeing that both had a matter to declare in that speech-restricting hall, the two paused in their words, but they would had continued their confessions in silence… if it was not for the building tremor quaking the theater.
At first, it was just mere harmless dust floating from above that had caught the attention of some of the audience, but then, falling pebbles bouncing off the carpeted steps drew in more attention, and the sudden explosion did its job in intimidating all, sending people climbing and dashing with screams and terror occupying the once tranquil scene.
The combustion had caused some parts of the ceiling to shatter; the debris – crashing towards Parr and Rydinger. Their eyes were glued to the ceiling since their noses were tickled by the falling dusts, but the plunging concrete was quite a shocker.
Despite their surprise, both the Super and jockey were mildly prepared for the debris. Yet, with their concern placed on each other rather than themselves, their first thought was to get their respective date away from their imminent doom.
Rydinger, being the more athletic individual, was naturally faster to react.
Before the ‘Invisible Queen’ could threw out even portions of a force-field, Tony had already thrust her onto the sticky flooring – a state resulted from the past soda spills of irresponsible kids – just in time, too, when one of the ceiling fragments crashed just inches behind their feet.
The rescued damsel in not much distress would had taken that moment of relief to savor the football jockey’s muscular torso laying above her – if it was not for the second series of collapsing detritus.
With seconds to spare, she hurriedly stretched out her left arm from underneath the moderately built quarterback in generating a force-field over them… Just in the nick of time; she prevented a broken back, or worse.
Angry and curious about the mysterious event, the couple pulled themselves – and each other – up on their sport shoes and looked to the source of the explosion. However, the hole that which was once there was then cloaked with thick clouds of fumes exhaling from the opening on the ceiling like the smoking nostrils of a raging dragon.
It was not long after, though, when a silvery shade of hue gradually darkened into a shadowy silhouette before finally, a greatly muscular humanoid tore through the tender clouds of fumes curtaining the hole. The two pairs of openings, illuminating a soft yellow glow, located across the soles of the robotic being’s equally fuming iron boots were evidently the source of those fumes. As the man – or whatever species ‘it’ belonged to – in the gleaming metallic suit leisurely descended to the ground, the projected light from the movie screen, though little in amount, was sufficient in revealing the details of his garment.
His leggings were plated with flaps of more dull-gray iron reaching up to his upper thighs, where the protruding sheets of metal ceased in overlaying each other. There, a diagonal line on each thigh cut off the bumps of steel where behind them laid a smooth plating of solid armor – under the same color, of course – reaching all the way to the warrior’s torso, leaving no underwear-outlines across the sides of his crotch.
A chest-plate seemingly assembled together with four separate parts protected his front, with two of the pentagon-shaped ones protecting the upper parts of the torso. His arms were well-shielded from any possible attacks, too, with a convex armor pieces across each of his shoulders, descending to his biceps; his lowers arms were not lightly protected, either – they were secured with heavily armored armguards plated with an additional pad of steel-coating above; naturally, his shimmering titanium-based gauntlets were no fragile items, either. To top it all off, his curvy helmet was sleek, adorned with more silvery plating at the cheeks and a pitch-black inverted-triangular visor with a round bottom that masked the center of his visage.
Like an angel, he gracefully made his descend towards a mystified Violet Parr, her pupils reflected the tremendous glow generated by the armored suit.
“Violet Parr?” a deep, heavy robotic voice abruptly boomed from somewhere around the helmet.
Instead of being gripped with fear, she expressed a look of utmost wrath and fury; she was most certainly unhappy about that interruption in her first and most important date with her beloved crush.
Inside, Tony Rydinger was obviously as afraid as Violet could had gotten at that moment, but he stood firm, waiting to pull the first girl he really liked away from danger, if needed.
“Who are you?” she firmly inserted, her eyes glaring ferociously, her fists forcefully clenched.
“Need not to know.”
The reply took Violet aback, surprising her enough to shake off her angry eyes, temporarily replacing them with two round, curious ones for few seconds. But the short moment was sufficient for the armored warrior to raise his palm at her. Within it, that same ol’ familiar soft glow once was once again generate inside a hole large enough to fill the entire palm, turning from a dull gamboge hue to a white, shining light, accompanied by that sharp noise you hear before a laser fires…
Though the device – obviously a blaster – took merely a second to recharge, it was enough for Violet’s recognition of it and to react accordingly – and in this case, with a generated force-field. Rydinger was just inches from panic, though, but he managed to keep himself stable enough to ready himself for a task of rescue. Nevertheless, before the trio was able to do anything, another occurrence lured in their attention – it lured in all’s attention.
Before the man – or beast – in the metallic suit was able to fire whatever it was across his palm at his target, a thin projectile hit the side of his hand – a long, slim claw, rather - causing a misfire to occur. His attack, a thick, white flash of laser, hit one of the linen-covered walls instead, resulting in a larger hole to be formed at the side of the theater. A parent and his son, while standing at the cinema hall holding ZARD·E merchandises, stared through the opening in confusion.
“What the…?” the still floating being remarked while rubbing his sore hand with the other.
“Put down your blasters. You wouldn’t want to hurt an innocent girl, would you,” a younger voice, not part of the crowd gathered under the broken ceiling, commented, “Spectre-san?”
The little illumination available aided the mysterious arrival in cloaking his identity, leaving only an outline of his body amidst the blanket of darkness. He seemed short, but not enough to be younger than 12.
Upon hearing the smooth voice of the theater’s latest guest, a hint of annoyance was expressed through a short snort audible from beneath the armored man’s visor, as if he was threatened. Nevertheless, he made attempts in hiding his fear by shrouding it with confidence.
“I should had known that you’d come,” the masked villain replied while making landing on the flooring, the fumes disappeared as he did, “saving damsels in distress has always been your hobby.”
“Barou,” he firmly inserted in a determined tone, “she’s innocent but not in distress, I came here to apprehend you, not rescue the independent teenager.”
Beneath the masquerading visor, the being smiled inside with utmost satisfaction; his rival was as skillful as he remembered.
“Oh, still as sharp as ever, huh… Chimera Boy?”
Upon chanting the name, it was like entering a command, the hidden savior gradually stepped out from the dark, letting the moonlight from above gently flowed across him. Slowly, partials of his appearance were revealed. His blue boots were cut off with a black right-angled triangle shape on each side of them, forming a sort of blue trapezium on the toe caps pointing to the front.
Further illumination revealed his trousers to be made of black leather instead, reaching all the way to an ordinary silvery belt with a small convex cylinder at the center – no underwear lining, either. When the light had been shined across his torso, the mysterious figure appeared to have dressed like any ordinary Super; his top consisted of a blue shirt with the large, black, block letters of ‘C’ and ‘B’ overlapping each other, filling most parts of it. The black sleeves – diagonally cutting off the blue, stretched all the way to his hands. No gloves could be found, his hands were part of the sleeves.
Finally… his face. It was angelic, but that could be due to the soft glow poured across his blue, leathery hood. Nevertheless, his smile was tender and friendly, though with a hint of pride and disregard. At a second, even, his stare had been diverted to Parr in a distracted manner. Though some parts of his visage were shadowed by the hood, sufficient lightning revealed his eyes of moderate size to be conceived under a thin piece of eye-mask. The sides of the mask stretched all the way to the sides of his hair, forming a certain smooth diagonal stripe across each side, though they were camouflaged under his hair’s equal darkness. His haircut was not pertaining to retrospect, either; his face was not flooded with hair yet it was kept short enough to leave several bundles of hair sticking out of his scalp and some bangs suspending across his forehead.
Violet helplessly blushed, two light shades of pink were obscurely displayed under the dim moonlight shine, not because she was grateful but because the hero she was grateful for turned out to be much appealing in appearance than she had expected. ‘Cute’ was the word.
“Yeah, too bad the same cannot be said for you,” the teenaged Super retorted, his head lowered as he did, though his eyes were sharply shot into those of the armored man in a denunciative manner, “Spectre-san.”
“It’s a pity…” the metallic assassin murmured, his head lowered, “up till now, you remain blinded from the just I carry out. I am merely taking out the trash of this city. My killings are utterly required.”
The eyes of the Super who had been called “Chimera Boy” followed the gestures made by the killer called “Spectre” as his insipid lies poured out. He was rather bored by the ‘Spectre’s’ performance, and, after a short moment, glad when he had paused, giving the Super his opportunity to end the wastage of that night.
“Don’t make me laugh,” he instantly retorted upon the ending of Spectre’s sentence. “Kip Kaider, currently 25 years old, born in New Jersey, an ex-convict charged for the murder of three people throughout five years.”
As the confident Super laid out the information regarding his identity, Spectre’s hidden eyes remained locked on him, he watched as the pompous child unfolded his true intentions.
“Recently, you became desperate due to the Feds closings in on your arrest. Just as two of their officers were about to take you into custody, a man in a black suit saved your life and went on in offering you a place in his underworld syndicate, which you graciously accepted out of the suitability of the conditions given. Your only orders were to take out certain people they asked you to, an act you were greatly comfortable in carrying out, in exchange for complete protection from anyone in anywhere.”
Out of satisfaction – or pure defeat – Spectre lowered his head again, hanging it in solemn. Not a word came out of him when the ‘Chimera Boy’ ended his speech, merely a short utter of ‘humph,’ displaying, not contempt, but rather, pleasure in the Super’s great skills.
“Did I miss anything, Spectre-san?”
“Very good, squirt, looks like you did your research…”
“Baka, I don’t need research to know about the notorious Kaider. As for the organization’s acceptance, that part was a guess. I thought about what a member of a mysterious organization who was once a desperate killer heavily pursued by the U.S. government’s Federal Bureau of Investigation would had done back then. Even a six year old could had figured that one out.”
At that moment, it was more than apparent that the Super had a long back-story with that armored assassin, one that Spectre, at that moment, obviously desired in ending immediately. Nevertheless, it was obvious that Spectre was in a respecting position as well, evident from his lack of intervention during the Super’s monologue.
“So? What’s it goner be?” the young Super questioned commandingly, his once gleeful eyes fainted into a grim glare. “No more hide-and-seek, or should I just end this now, Spectre?!”
The atmosphere then was tense, naturally. The crowd by the side of Spectre, a little too quiet at that moment, stared with utmost anticipation, wondering if their assailant would be apprehended or if his escape would be inevitable. Silence was among them for a while. Both hero and villain merely glanced at each other’s every tiny movement, ensuring they wouldn’t be at disadvantage if the opposite party was to attempt an ambush.
Then, suddenly, one of them broke the quiescence.
“I choose hide-and-go-seek.”
Hurriedly after his sudden comment, the Spectre raised his palm towards the still immobile Super. That time, no charging was required – the cannon fired immediately.
The spherical flash of laser was fired straight to the Super, though he stood still and no sign of panic could be perceived. It was fast, barely visible to the naked eye.
Fortunately, its result was shielded by equal amount of ‘invisibility’ as well.
Instead of vaporizing its target as it should had, an unexpected obstruction in the form of a purple wave blocked the attack, triggering a grin on the Super’s lips when he lightly tilted down his head.
“Thank you, innocent girl,” he urgently blurted out before leaping away high above the ground.
In the split second upon his ascend, his right hand stretched behind his left ear, and as he did, the nail atop his index finger literally transformed into a long and slender bistre-colored claw. Spectre was not idle, either, as, at the very same moment, he retargeted the Super, lashed out his arm above his gleaming visor, and initiated the charging of his attack once more, triggering the reappearance of that familiar gradual growing illumination.
One of their attacks had to be fired before the other.fantastic [claps hands] when is the end of the battle going to be posted…its utterly fantastic.
Having young boys introduced into the story is always my favorite pastime…
Oh boy! Intesne! Really, really intense! You had me on the edge of my seat. Great chapter with Vi, TOny, and the action at the movies. Really well done! NOw this is what I am talking about. You keep it up! Update soon.
After all of this, I’m hoping to write a fan fic based on what I picture a series based on “The Incredibles” would be like. Hmm… we will need a good theme song.
Oh, then that would be quite an intresting thing to read.
does tony know its Violet??
TSS: Ya, writing big time movie projects all the time can get a little tiring if they are all meant to be masterpieces. I think after this, I’ll just slow it down with a series of short stories about the lives of the Parrs, but of course, it will include an epic storyline as well. I have already got so many ideas rushing through my mind. Of course, if you guys have any suggestion at all, please drop them here as it will be very helpful.
Al-Bob: Well, that you just have to wait and see. There will be very… ‘desperate’ drama going on between Tony and Violet regarding her identity. I do not want to spoil it much, but I’m pretty sure you can figure out what happens when she doesn’t tell him who she is for a long period.
Review over last Chapter;
Excitement-9/10
Characters-8.5/10
Storyline-8.5/10
Readability-8/10
Overall-8.5/10
A great chapter that will require another to fulfill the action. The characters are still developing exspecially the new character so it will take some time to get use to the new guy. The storyline and readability are good and make the story enjoyable. Will wait for next chapter…
I can’t believe I missed out on this all this time! You sure know how to capture excitement and intensity, WBoon. I’m impressed.
You want another reader/reviewer? You got it! 
Prologue: Excellent intro! Way to catch a reader’s attention at the very start. 
Chapter One: I smiled when I read about Mr. Kropp trying to bust Dash. It seemed like a small situation, but I liked how it had so much detail and got you into the teacher’s thoughts. Talk about “exploding the moment”, as one of my teachers once said.
Chapter Two: Nice! Really strange what’s going on with that portal. Oh, and I liked the subplot you added with Vi and Kari’s friendship and emotions, as well as your creative new side character Akai. After the previous excitement, it’s nice to settle down and read about internal conflict along the way.
Chapter Three-Part One: Amazing sideplot with the action at the beginning. And Kari and Violet’s conflict with feelings is drawing me in.
Sorry, only made it that far. You’ve got a great story there, WBoon, I can’t believe you had wanted to forget it. You’re really creative and good at this.
Al-Bob: Man, if you love this chapter, you are going to love what is coming up in the future of my fan fiction career. Just keep reading, just keep reading, reading, reading…
bright dot-dasher: Thanks for reading. :3 Now that’s the sort of review I love - detailed and relating (as in the reviewer tries to relate with the story). I’m hoping to see more of your reviews in the future. 
And, of course, I’m still working on the last part of Chapter 3. It probably won’t be too long but, you can’t rush perfection. Love your Lilo & Stitch Halloween signature, BTW. I love the series.
Wow, looks like we got another great Incredibles fanfic writer here too! I’ve just read your prologue and all three chapters in one sitting, so here’s what I have to say:
Prologue:
Great way to begin the story with the end of the first one. I’m curious as to who the mysterious figure at the end of the chapter was…Mirage perhaps? (though she later appears in your first chapter as an ally of the Supers, so I’m clueless now)
1st Chapter:
I liked how the Incredible can now transform into an innocuous van. Helen’s too ‘straight’ to be suggesting what pranks Dash should pull…I think Bob would sound more natural at giving his kid ideas on what to put on his teacher’s seat. (Remember in the movie he was excited about how fast Dash could plant the tacks, while Mrs Incredible was less enthusiastic at encouraging this sort of behaviour?) Kropp’s plan to catch Dash red-handed is both hilarious and an animator’s dream challenge…I can just imagine his poses and actions, like Skinner’s attempts to catch Linguini and the ‘rat’.
2nd Chapter:
I liked how you made Mr Kropp self-sacrificing eventhough he despises Dash for his pranks.
I’m not sure whether Kari McKeen was in the Incredibles, but if it’s a fan creation, I certainly like her interaction with Violet and how she pines for Tony, but her love is unrequited. Akai Tanner sounds like a great fan-made character, I can tell you drew inspiration for him from those Conan comics you’ve been talking about throughout the forums. Just be sure not to make him too perfect, or he’ll end up a Mary Sue character (Google the term if you haven’t heard it before).
3rd Chapter:
The car chase was excellent, as well as Mr Incredible’s wicked one-liners, they’re awesome! As much as a car nut as I am, I had to google the car model. I agree it’s one sweet oldie! And I bet the word ‘Sin’ would have some special significance later on.
Ooh, we’ve got a love triangle here. Very complicated, Tony loving Violet, with Akai having a ‘crush’ on her too, with poor Kari in the corner! Drama, drama!
Love, love, love the Pixar cameos you’ve placed in the movies playing at the theatre! Rex’s movie was a hoot, I didn’t ‘get’ the second one, the third one featuring a retelling of the Incredible’s adventure is a brilliant parody of Hollywood’s tendency to remake ‘true stories’ in their own fashion, and the robot love comedy’s setting is the reverse of Pixar’s one (it starts on an inhabited spaceship instead of an abandoned Earth). I didn’t really get the pun on ZARD-E, though, am I missing something?
I have a feeling I know who this Chimera Boy is, I don’t quite get why they use some Japanese words in their exchange though. I also don’t really understand the viliian’s motivation for wrecking the cinema…is it because he wants to kill Violet…send a message? And why isn’t Tony unsurprised that his girlfriend can suddenly generate force fields? I’m waiting the epic fight sequence with baited breath though…it’s gonna be so exciting!
Overall, good effort. I know you have a natural flair for words, but you should use fancy words sparingly. I suggest you use them only for slower, more poignant scenes, and keep the action sequences short and punchy. Using long sentences also bogs down the reading ‘flow’ and I kind of get lost and have to reread the phrase again when it gets too ‘bombastic’. I hope you don’t take this advice too personally, but instead use it to improve your future chapters. I’m really interested to see how this plays out!
lol Now that… THAT, is a review. Lemme just clear up some confusions there.
First of all, the prologue. Mirage? Huh? Maybe. As for her alliance with the Parrs, I merely stated that she provided financial incomes for them - that’s all she did, nothing else.
As for Helen suggesting the pranks, actually that was to highlight the light atmosphere the Parrs have in the family now that not much problems dwell in their family. In other words, Helen is a bit more lenient with Dash now, especially with the upcoming event in the final part of Chapter Three you’ll read about later on.
Kari was in the film as Violet’s best friend, so that wasn’t a fan creation. As for Akai, you’re the first one to notice the inspiration. Nice. Don’t worry about him aligning towards perfection, though; he’s not.
The second film was actually a reference to Einstein. lol You actually have to be a very avid Detective Conan fan to understand the reason I put that there.
As for ZARD-E, well, ZARD is actually a famous pop group in which a singer I know of who sang many Detective Conan songs, Izumi Sakai, was from. Unfortunately, she met her end due to a cancer she’s been fighting for quite a while, so I paid a tribute to her here.
As for the use of Japanese, well, that merely means that he was of the Japanese race. As you can see from Spectre’s conversation with Chimera, Chimera’s the only Japanese speaking Super among the two.
Spectre’s dramatic entrance by putting a hole in the ceiling… well, when I first put that in, it was merely for dramatic effects, because it wouldn’t be very cool if he just enters the theater and taps Violet on the shoulder asking if she is who he thought she was. But if you want to go story-wise, you have to see the reason for that hole in the final part later. As for the other hole in the wall, that was an accident when Chimera Boy shot an attack at his hand.
Also, the Rydinger matter, I guess that’s a little vague. See, I had Tony facing downwards when he plunged downwards towards Violet to get her out of the way of the falling debris. Thus, when Violet stretched out her arm behind Tony… well, you get the idea.
Last but not least, I was afraid that too little ‘fancy’ words would not make the story look professional, so it kinda became a habit of mine. Nevertheless, I’ll try and cut them short in the future.
Well, thanks for the review, though, thedriveintheatre. I know there are a lot of plot holes in there, but am trying my best, so I hope it’s not too crappy. 
Thanks again, and you guys should learn from him and bright dot-dasher in making great reviews such as these.