Solar nodded curtly to the guards at the entrance of festival, moving past them smoothly as he observed the faces in the crowd. Omnibus had informed him that Saint-Germain accompanied the group in their work while he planned his own goal, so Solar’s first goal is to track him down. Solar’s job, after all, was to enter the group of misfits that Saint-Germain is with to confirm that Saint-Germain would carry out the plan. It had been a few months since he had been assigned his mission to rid the world of the homunculus; and yet, Omnibus could see no progress.
Solar bowed deeply to the ladies who eyed him with interest, giving a strained smile to show that he ‘appreciated’ their feelings, but was not interested. He continued searching, gripping his miniaturized fork in the palm of his right hand tightly. Why did I have to be assigned to such a job with such little information as to where they are? I already know where the mansion is, but they aren’t scheduled to return until very late. He continued to grumble in his mind as he searched the scenery for any sign.
He stopped softly once he heard a voice from behind him. “E-excuse me?” A frail, feminine voice called out softly, and he felt a hand softly pat his shoulder.
Fork in pocket, fork in pocket, fork in pocket…!
He carefully slipped the fork he gripped into the pocket of his suit, turning to her with as genuine of a smile as he could strain. “How may I assist you,” he inquired softly, taking her hand that was floating in the air from being on his shoulder and holding it reassuringly, “mademoiselle?”
After being informed that she, Cardia, was lost, Solar nodded with a serious expression. “I know someone you might be acquainted with,” he told her, speaking of Saint-Germain. “I will take you to him as soon as possible. Before we do that, however…” Solar switched her hand to his other, moving into a ball dancing position seamlessly as he gazed at her with a straight face, “may I have this dance?” She had, after all, stopped him right next to the dancing stage; not to mention, he wanted to learn more about her so that he could figure out what was taking Saint-Germain so long.
Solar shrugged upon being told that she wasn’t a great dancer. “None of us are until we work for it.” Quickly, he moved the two of them onto the dance floor and began to move them to the beat of the music. He was relieved that she hadn’t asked very many questions as he spoke, because the less work that had to be done, the better.
“Just to make sure, you are friends with a man named Saint-Germain, correct?” He wouldn’t be able to live any longer if he realized that there were multiple Cardias in London, and that he happened upon the wrong one.
...in the red suit looks suspicious. Something jutting out of side of the tailcoat. If it were a weapon, then they should have hidden it to make it not so obvious...
Then again, perhaps they made it obvious so that no one would suspect it of being a gun. No one would expect someone to have a gun so obviously there at a party like this... and to support that, the person had gone through security. However, they-
“Sir?” A voice dragged Solar out of his thoughts. Solar looked up at the waiter, his face as stagnant as always to hide the fact that he wasn’t listening at all to what the waiter had been saying. “What is it?” He inquired, leaning against the wall softly. He looked at the drinks brought to him on the waiter’s plate, and he thought for a moment. “Not today. There is no cause to celebrate this day.”
“Perhaps a reason to forget?”
Solar looked at the waiter once more, looking over their costume and identifying their voice from the myriad that filled his brain. Of course. “Guinevere,” Solar sighed softly, turning his eyes back at the crowd. Before the lady could say anything more, Solar muttered in her direction, “no signs of them. There is the hilt of what seems to be a gun sticking out of an individual’s tailcoat, and another individual’s dress had much too many pockets; other than that, there seems to be no sign of a threat as large as we were hinted to.”
“Too many pockets...?” Guinevere mumbled under her breath thoughtfully. Solar turned his eyes to her, about to continue expressing his thoughts; however, his eyes narrowed slightly upon noticing the fact that Guinevere held her hand over her mouth and shook her body slightly.
“Do not laugh, Guinevere,” Solar spoke as he turned his eyes back to the crowd. “We need to get moving. Have you found anything?”
“Well, the lady I spoke with earlier was as beau-”
“Of use, Guinevere,” Solar reminded. There was no edge to his voice, but Guinevere could see the spite he had for her romance speech through the eyes he once again turned towards her. Guinevere examined him for a few moments more before sighing.
“Of course. I go with the strategist’s wish.”
Guinevere joined him at the wall, placing her hands behind her as a cushion for leaning on the wall. The plate of champagne in her hands had been placed on a nearby stool a moment ago. “What was the information we received?”
“Ignoring the sex, age, and other meaningless physical characteristics, the individual who will be attacking this gala is supposedly 1.9 meters tall and not lean in muscle. The height might be an amount larger here, given the fact that high heels affect height-”
“It was supposedly a guy, was it not?” Guinevere asked suddenly, turning her face to him in confusion. “Why would a man wear high heels?”
“Fashion does not matter in the criminal underworld,” Solar informed her, mentally sighing in exhaustion. “The criminal is probable to wear a dress if they were to want to get away with this crime seamlessly.”
“I see. So this is the mindset of a criminal...” Guinevere nodded thoughtfully, looking back at the crowd. Solar turned to examine his companion, humming in slight surprise as Guinevere stood frozen with a shocked expression. “Mademoiselle,” he asked softly, “is-”
“Solar, you must... mingle with the guests,” Guinevere told him swiftly, clasping her hands around his shoulders with a deathly grip. Knowing that he would not sustain any injuries from it, Solar didn’t strain against her hands. However, he did attempt to understand what happened to Guinevere for her to lose composure so suddenly. “I must continue with my part of the mission, I may have found a new lead.”
“What new-”
“See you soon, Solar!” Guinevere quickly readjusted the mask that was placed over Solar’s eyes and smiled, waving as she merged with the crowd once more. Solar blinked before turning back to the crowd in front of him.
The waiter on the opposite side of the floor is-
“What is your name, handsome?” A voice chirped out from in front of Solar, and his eyes quickly moved to the body that it belonged to. “My name is Cheri, the treasurer for the Queen and her favorite subject.” The person before him chuckled under their breath softly, placing a hand on his forearm softly.
This might be it. The Queen hates all of her treasurers.
Solar dipped his body down, moving the intruding piece from his arm to his hands. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, mademoiselle,” Solar spoke softly, placing a feathery kiss upon the knuckles of the hand he held. He decided that he will need to take a very disinfecting bath at the end of this mission. “Are you enjoying your time here? I have been informed that this is the largest gathering of the British Empire that we can have.” As Solar spoke, he escorted the person towards the balcony that was nearby, attempting to get the two of them some peace and quiet for an uninterrupted interrogation.
“Oh, indeed,” they answered with a loud chuckle. Solar despised such obnoxious chuckles that this individual expressed. “Why have we come out here? I was hoping for a dance.”
“A dance is most beautiful when you are alone with your partner and your thoughts,” Solar smiled softly. He attempted to smile softly, that is. It was very much strained, and he regretted the attempt.
“Oh, that is very insightful,” Cheri’s eyes gleamed, looking up at the stars. “Would you dance with me then?”
“I will dance your night away,” Solar mumbled to them, and their eyes moved to examine him in somewhat surprise. Solar knew from the flushed cheeks they wore that it had done the effect he was going for.
“And then?” Solar murmured into Cheri’s ear, his feet hurting. Why did he dance with this person for such long hours...? He could have found better ways to gather their trust. He knew, however, that this was the quickest way.
“Ohhhhhh, then she smiiiiiiiiled at me and spoke, ‘do not woooooooooooorry, Chad, I willllllllllllllll rescue you from this prison.’ And she was taken away soooooooooon afterwards. The boss of the place then told me ‘heeeey, work for me or your wiiiiife is deeeeeeeeeeeeeeead’... and so I said... yeeeeeeees.”
Solar did not take much personal interest in the drunk criminal that attempted to hold his gaze. The only thing he was good for in Solar’s view was information. And information, he delivered. “Is that truly so?” the investigator asked softly, spinning them to the beat of the music as he attempted to take a sympathetic tone. “My greatest-”
“Solaaaaaaaaaar!” A voice cried out for his name from the party, and Solar cursed internally. Once again, Guinevere had received too much to drink and is basically giving away his alibi. Hadn’t Omnibus taught her better? He was always mildly surprised when he found Guinevere in her delirious, drunken state, due to the drastic difference to her personality out of it. “Solar, my date- wait, there you are!”
Guinevere walked briskly over to the two of them, taking the criminal out of Solar’s hands. “My love, my sweetheart, my lady, I have finally found you, after hours of searching...”
“Guinevere,” Solar snapped with the declaring tone of a leader, “seize him.” Immediately, arms tightened around the criminal, and Guinevere narrowed her eyes at the man in her arms.
“I knew it was you,” Guinevere accused him, the drunken deliriousness in her speech dissipated. The Apostles couldn’t get drunk; she had been pretending, so as to keep an alibi. “You will be coming with us to the security guards.”
“B-b-b-but, I still ha- hic! - have to do my mission! I have to... have to steal the crown! Yes, yes, steal the crown!”
“Oh, but you already stole something of value,” Guinevere smirked at the man. The man blinked at her in surprise and confusion. “You have stolen my heart.” The man promptly fainted out of what seems like happiness, and Guinevere threw him over her shoulder.
“Do not speak to anyone of this,” Guinevere grumbled to Solar, who wore an expression that would convey amusement for ones with a keen eye. “My words were as fake as the drunken state I was in.”
“Indeed,” Solar spoke, walking past Guinevere. “Let’s turn him in and return to our chambers. No matter how many lives I have, my feet are still exhausted from the amount of time it took for this buffoon to confess to his crimes.”
“But you knew,” Guinevere said softly. “Why did you continue dancing if you knew?”
“I wanted to see how long it would take for someone of his stature to confess to their crimes,” Solar scoffed at himself. “He was surprisingly strong in that sense. Let us return swiftly.”
“Did you really think hiding your cheek bones was going to fool anyone?”
“Do I…know you?”
“Have we met before?”
“Are you sure I don’t know you?”
“Your eyes are absolutely captivating.”
“I don’t think we’ve met yet.”
“May I have this dance?”
“You look positively enchanting this evening.”
“I’d know those dazzling eyes anywhere.”
“These skirts make it so hard to move.”
“Some of these costumes are so extravagant. They must have cost a fortune.”
“You look quite ravishing in that dress.”
“You look quite handsome in that suit.”
“Can I see your face?”
“I don’t think you want to see my face.”
“My God, you could fit an entire circus under her pannier. How’d she even fit through the door?”
“Champagne?”
“My feet are killing me.”
“I never thought I’d see you in something so fancy.”
“I feel like I’m rubbing elbows with the queen right now.”
“Care to sneak away with me? I doubt we will be missed.”
“Can you guess who I am under here?”
“I’d compliment your beauty, but I can’t see it under there. You’ll have to accept my compliments to your mask instead, it’s quite lovely.”
“I can’t hear you through that mask. Did you really have to choose one that covers your mouth?”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Do you know who she is?”
“Do you know who he is?”
“You’re very light on your feet.”
“Ow! It’s like you have two left feet.”
“I’m a terrible dancer.”
“Who cares if you’re a good dancer? Have fun! No one will know it’s you anyway!”
“No one’s asked me to dance all night…”
“I feel like I’m in a dream!”
“Can we please go home? This is torture.”
“How did I ever let you talk me into coming here?”
“I prefer watching from the sidelines to participating.”
“You’ve spent the entire evening at the snack table.”
“Can I cut in?”
“I have to go.”
“I’m not supposed to be here. If they catch me I’m in trouble!”
“Please. What is your name? I want to see you again.”
It was a beautiful day. The birds were screaming for lovers without end, the sun scorched all substances with its undying fury, and the touch of any metal surface would tarnish skin. That was what regular humans deemed as a ‘beautiful day’.
Solar was having none of it. He faintly glared at all passerby, lugging his weapon over his shoulder as he moved through the crowds. Of course, he could make the monstrosity that is his giant fork into a smaller form, into about the size of a key... However, he was tired of hiding his power for so long. Anyhow, the town was in the middle of nowhere, and the people here did not speak to others outside of the town unless completely necessary. Having the weaponry out proclaimed to the villagers that he was a man who should not be messed with while allowing him to keep all of his previous alibis.
He begrudgingly moved towards where the main building of the town proudly stood. The Town Hall proclaimed its honor and loyalty to the people by being built with a considerable amount of precious resources to an intimidating size. Solar gazed up at the building for a moment with his face molded to his regular unflinching expression before scoffing under his breath and continuing on his course.
Once Solar arrived at the doors of the Town Hall with his weapon finally sheathed in the palm of his hand, the guards approached with a sneer on their faces and a pompous skip to their steps. “Look, the kid’s approachin’. Oi, kiddo, you might want to scram. This is a place that only we of-”
“Who are you speaking to?” Solar inquired, closing his eyes slowly as he moved past the men fluidly. The guardsmen blinked in shock, looking around as they attempted to track down the position of the boy who was able to pass them without a scratch. Solar looked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly at the surprised men. This town, for all of its worth, has no sensible security. Do they truly believe that shows of brawn will reduce crime rates? Truly a taint in the world.
A man smiled kindly at Solar when the investigator moved into the room. “Ah,” the mayor of the town sighed with content, “has it come? The end of the town.” Solar watched the man silently, his face as stagnant as usual. The mayor smiled even more broadly than before, his lips releasing light laughter. “So it has come to this.”
Solar breathed out slowly once more before moving, his hand lightly sweeping the air near his face as the fork left his hold. The fork flew silently, landing with its tongs stuck into the ground directly behind Solar’s body. The five guards yelped out in horror as the fork grew in size, ending its growth spurt once it was as tall as the investigator.
“My dear mayor,” Solar spoke to the man in front of him with nothing but a murmur, “I believe that your sources of information are reliable.” His hands reached behind him, grabbing the shaft of the weapon and dislodging it from the ground with a wide sweeping motion. The fork made a large arc in the air before coming to rest in front of Solar’s body. The man wrapped his arms around the embroidered part of the shaft, leaning on the weapon while watching the mayor with a subtly inquisitive gaze. “Any wishes?”
The mayor thought it over for a long moment, as if he hadn’t yet prepared. Solar knew full well that he did; that everyone had. Someone had spoiled the fun ahead of time. Upon learning of the news, however, the town prepared for their downfall instead of attempting to flee their fate. It was quite interesting to Solar, but it didn’t matter anymore. The coming of the apocalypse had occurred for the residents of that town.
“Bring the man who told us all to justice.”
Solar finally allowed himself to smile softly, the fork shimmering in the light of the sun. He paid no mind to the corpses that littered the ground as he moved away from the town. His method of massacre for this mission completely contradicted all of what Saint-Germain had taught him, but that didn’t matter. No one would know about the incident and its aftermath, except perhaps Omnibus. Unless, of course, he returned to his residence with blood on his boots. Someone would perhaps notice it if that were the case.
Solar usually did not like to see destruction of this scale that he had done with his own hands through his own eyes. That day was different. As the sun scorched the bodies, Solar sighed slowly.
Yes, it definitely was a beautiful day in the eyes of God.
