Chapter Text
Instead of the forecasted snow, there was thick fog on the streets of Stellis. No one let it dampen their holiday mood, though, as they hurried to their New Years’ parties.
After all, tomorrow was a new decade. No one wanted to be late.
There was, of course, the public celebration downtown with the whole thing- live music performances, entertainment, food, drinks, the works. There would even be fireworks on the Stellis waterfront, and people had already been talking about how spooky they might look in the fog.
Captain Morgan wasn’t anywhere near those sorts of celebrations. Instead, tonight, he was at a New Years’ fundraiser for the city with the richest people in the country. They annually got together to pat themselves on the back and to put their heaviest and most glamorous foot forward to prepare to pat themselves on the back throughout the rest of the year. But because they all had their family heirlooms and other means of showing off, Captain Morgan was around to make sure security was in tip-top shape and that no one unknown would be coming in or out.
He entered the gala building by a side door, much less showy and photographed as the front entrance, but no less watched. He walked down the hallway with the worst lighting but was totally unremarkable. So unremarkable that it could be from any miscellaneous office building, not the grandest Gala building in the country, to a room where he could monitor all the camera feeds and other recorded material in peace.
Well, mostly in peace. The chatter of his officers and the hired staff was comforting background noise, as was the clacking of keyboards recording the latest update or a fan buzzing on someone’s desk. The fan seemed unnecessary until he realized how warm it was in the room with all the screens.
He shed his overcoat and hung it by the door. “Please let tonight be uneventful,” he muttered to himself as he crossed his arms and looked over the room, then settling his eyes on the main entrance camera. Who’s showing up this year?
A knock on the door and in came Commissioner Green. Darius couldn’t help but sigh.
“Good, you’re here.” they said, noting him and then looking across the room. “Won’t you come and mingle?”
“Not unless I’m getting a raise.” Darius answered.
“It was an order, Darius,” they said. “Come along, we’re working on the legislature to adjust the police budget. It would be good to have my best man out there with me.”
Of course they’re increasing the budget again, Darius thought as he followed Green out of the screen room. It’s not like it’s going to anyone’s salaries.
“... Darius, focus here,” Green said. They handed him a navy blue mask.
“Maybe the next increase should go to our salaries, Green, if you expect nearly everyone to work overtime.”
“No one wants to be a cop anymore, Darius. This year we have to make them proud!”
What a-
“Ah, there’s the Marins. You. Mingle. Or just stand there and look good. That’s not so hard, is it?” Green patted Darius on the arm and left him in the entry hall as they went over to a guest family.
He sighed and lifted a glass off the nearest waiter’s platter. He didn’t down it in one go, but took his time. He adjusted his mask. It's not like a masquerade theme makes my life any harder or anything.
He looked across the hall and saw someone in a red and silver gown. They wore a maroon red fox mask across the top half of their face. He didn’t recognize the mask from those registered and checked in prior to tonight.
He made his way over to her and handed her his glass as he reached for a new one.
“That’s a unique mask,” He commented as they received the glass.
“I’m a little embarrassed- I thought it would be a sort of animal-themed thing.” They gestured to his mask. “I was apparently wrong.”
“It’s not like you’ll stand out much in a room of stand-outs,” he shrugged, meaning to be comforting.
“Oh, gosh,” Darius could see the blush under the bottom of the mask. “I didn’t mean to stand out any more than anyone else.”
He nodded, then offered them his arm. They slipped their hand through it and nodded, walking with him up the stairs.
They both heard the chatter behind them and they looked behind to see the von Hagens arrive. Austin and his youngest son, Marius. The kid wasn’t even the legal drinking age yet, but he was accepting a glass from his father. It was fine. It wasn’t worth writing a ticket over, and he wouldn’t be driving anyway. The rich got away with a lot more than Darius allowed himself to get personally annoyed with.
“Are you a police officer?” Darius’s companion asked.
He looked at them. “I am.”
“You were examining the von Hagens with such scrutiny,” they commented. Then they lowered their voice and leaned toward him, pulling slightly on his arm. “You don’t think Giann’s sudden absence is anything serious, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” he answered appropriately.
They smiled up at him. “You’re good at your job, mister…”
“Captain Darius Morgan,” he told them.
“Oh, captain, huh,” they winked. “Well,” they looked ahead. “I’m Monroe.”
“Just Monroe?”
“Just Monroe.” They confirmed, nodding, still looking ahead. They entered the main ballroom and they turned to him, gesturing to toast with Darius. He met his glass to theirs. “To a new year and a new decade, Captain.”
“To a new year and a new decade,” he repeated, then sipped from his glass as she did. As he looked up, their arm left his, and when he looked down to see where they went, they weren’t anywhere to be seen. They’re definitely up to trouble. He made his way back toward the hall, but Green caught him before he could escape and let his officers know.
“Use the earpiece I left for you, Morgan,” they grumbled as they passed him.
He sighed and nodded, going to the side of the room and calling the officers that way to keep an eye out for the red fox mask person.
Darius didn’t see them again but managed to survive the rest of the evening with a few other conversations.
Finally, it was nearly time for the new year. An announcement started on the stage and from the back of the crowd, Darius watched the waiters receive empty glasses from guests.
“... and with that, see what we can accomplish this next year!” the announcer held his hand up to the screen above him, then left the stage. The lights dimmed and then went all the way out. There were a few gasps from the crowd, but then the video started to play.
This next year (like nearly every other), the money raised this evening would go to sponsor new buildings and renovations in the art district of the city where the museums and art galleries were. It played like normal, besides a few strange lines, the narrator was excited about the coming decade. The tone changed and was critical of the project. A few murmurs in the crowd.
Then, instead of proposed plans and dreamed up images of the changes to the district, it showed the narrator. They were wearing the same mask as the person Darius spoke to hours ago, but they were in a suit rather than a dress. The suit was a maroon red that matched the mask with silver accents and jewelry.
“If you aren’t dull, you followed. This project is a ridiculous use of funds and time when there are others in this city- and country- who would much better benefit from your spare change. Things will change this decade. You will return what you’ve stolen and you will pay for your crimes that our noble officers don’t even bother writing fines for, since you can pay for it then and there, disregarding those you are hurting…”
Darius hardly heard the rest of the video, moving through the crowd for the masked person. She was here somewhere. She wouldn’t get away. This was not a prank, it was serious.
He looked up at the balcony that ran around the top of the room, looking for his officers to coordinate. He locked eyes with the narrator, who smiled as she changed her mask and didn’t let him see her face.
When the lights came back on, the previously displayed vase artifact was gone. How someone could have made it on the stage and not been noticed was a question for later.
He wasn’t there in the ballroom for the rest of the evening as the hosts did damage control and did their best to smooth over the ruffled feathers of the attending, influential guests.
Darius wasn’t directly blamed for what happened, as it was quickly discovered there wasn’t much the SCPD could have done.
For the next two years, this Sylvia Rouge avoided any progress being made on who she was, but the public outside of high society loved her and what her message was. The stolen vase from the first year was returned back to the people it belonged to, but as for the pieces on display and auction for the second year, they turned up in entirely different nations and caused legal trouble between allies as the "rightful" owners demanded "their" art back. Each piece had a history of having been stolen from their original homes, and Sylvia Rouge made a point to return those things to their rightful homes and owners.
What really bothered Darius was that she would taunt him and either let herself be seen by him or overheard, but never again was she within arms reach to arrest her. Not when he was working, anyway.
Now it was August with the third New Year celebration growing closer and closer, and pressure was on for the Stellis City Police to make real progress.
Who the hell was Sylvia Rouge?