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A clock above the entrance of a room with no spec in sight, the big hand ticks by every system hour. No dust clung to the shelves, no wax fell on the carpet floors. It is as neat as when its master left the room.
However, the master has been in the room for quite some time. The Halovian had stood like the statue in the Golden Hour. The difference is, where it stood in attention, Sunday's presence made no impact. Wherever he may go.
He wasn't in complete darkness as the slit of his currents showed the bright lights emanating. He watched them flicker on his floor with keen eyes, not a single thought occupied him.
It has been one system hour since Sunday came back from Golden Hour. Instead of doing his other demanding tasks given by the Family, he kindly told many he would rest early, and hid in his room. But instead, he looked off distantly.
He didn't sit, he didn't move, how could he when he'll just mess up everything? Sunday likes how his room was. Rarely did he convince himself to move anything out of place. Or sleep for that matter. Typically, he goes into a private room in the hotel and wanders the dreamscape.
And thus, he waits till he's at ease. Finding something to keep him distracted. But, for some time, his worries got the best of him. Stiff in stature, and fondled with his gloved fingers, his attempts were futile.
Robin was his concern.
"I should shower." His body agreed as he waltzed to a second door in the room.
He clapped on command and the lights flicked on. The room had marble tiles and shiplap walls, all white and gold. A tube was in the middle, beside it a small rack of towels and rags hung. The toilet was in the far corner along with the sink, and small handkerchiefs on a golden platter with his necessities. To say the room was spacious was an understatement.
He arrived at the tube to turn the nob before stripping. His torso wing unbonded from his hip slowly and carefully. Still, pain shot through his spine. Sunday should bind it again later, possibly see his doctor at dawn. But that was another messy task as the rest of his clothes were discarded. And he dipped in the warm pool of water.
He relaxes when his skin sinks beneath the pool. His halo clinked against the tube, but no matter, he showed no sign of being inelegant. Rather, it was the opposite effect that spread from his head to his toes. He lay in, his eyes fluttering shut.
Robin has been dead. And "Death" is upon Penacony.
His face wrinkled in thought.
Yes, he was well aware of the happenings in the dreamscape. The problem lies in the culprit hiding in plain sight. It pains him to say it, but his small world was…crumbling between his fingers. The foundation of the planet of festivities was built upon forsaken grounds, which were becoming pebbles in his palm. Anger can not describe what was brewing within him.
And at last, to top it all, his sister's death taunts him. How he'd allow this to happen is beyond him. The result of it all is for him to continue a charade where a Fool takes center stage instead of his beloved sibling.
The Nameless, IPC, Ranger, had everyone on that forsaken guest list made an utter fool out of him?
Correction, he wasn't angry, he was furious. But no matter, justice will come swiftly one way or another.
Sunday sighed before dipping his body deeper into the pools. Allowing the steam to cloud his senses as he bathed unbothered by other things.
But then he heard a creak on the other side of the door.
"Hello?" The familiar voice sang. One that made the strands on Sunday's nape stand on end. "Is anyone home?"
Sparkle. The Masked Fool had found him.
Sunday's eyes snapped open to reevaluate his situation. He put "Robin" as far away from him as possible while still somewhere in the Oak Family's estate. He would've been notified of his sister's every possible move. This was how it's always been when the real Robin was around. Not alone without a guard in sight. Otherwise, it was him accompanying her every move.
Sunday had the bloodhounds guarding his door, cameras by every corner, and his "eyes" on every blind spot. And still, the Fool had arrived. He could imagine she might've frolicked through the halls while trespassing.
But, should he be surprised? The Fool is unpredictable and she thrives in chaos. Somehow, she would've known where his real location was just to bother him. It is either she's bored, or she is incredibly impatient.
"No one home? Well, I guess I'll stay here–oops."
A loud crash echoed in both rooms. And it sounded very, very expensive.
"What was that?" He demanded.
"Bird-brain, you are here." Something else toppled next. And then he heard a soft jingle. "That's not how you show hospitality."
He debated with himself if he should spare another word. But his nose flared knowing he already gave his position. "I thought you'd leave."
"You assumed wrong." Something else fell and the Halovian's eyebrows twitched from the audible crash. "I have a question I need to discuss with you."
If the Fool had a question, she would have sent it via text message. But instead, she found him, broke into his home, and broke everything in his room. It's clear what her intentions are, and he will charge her for the very priceless item he will find on the floor.
"You're lying."
"Maybe I am." She sounded closer than before, and he heard a soft click coming from the door, then a creak. "Maybe I am not. Who knows."
Black locks appeared first before the petite woman showed her impish face through the threshold. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she scans the bathroom and then kicks the door fully open, an empty bottle of Soulglad in her grasp.
He stared at the bottle. Relieved that the noise wasn’t something priceless shattered on his floor. But upset that there could be glass shards on his carpet.
His face pinched. “If you wanted my attention, why vandalize my room?”
“I didn’t.”
“The bottle?”
She picks it up. Flip it a couple of times in her hand. And to demonstrate how amazing her little trick was, she dropped the bottle. Sunday’s eyebrows raised upon impact to the floor, but then the shards that scattered turned into wisps of light. Swirling up into Sparkle’s hand to form another Soulglad bottle.
“Believe me now?” She smirks.
He sighs.“You made your point.”
Her eyes twinkle. "Fancy place you got here. Missing a little pizzazz.”
He can already feel a migraine coming on. "Why aren't you back in your room? 'Robin' has vocal practices in the morning." His eyes glared into hers. "She would not be late in preparations for the Charmony Festival."
Sparkle hums, as Sunday continues to state his frustrations. But she carelessly sets the bottle on the counter and reaches for the back of her neck to untie the bell. He goes on about regulation and scheduling, and–is she taking off her top?!
His wings fluttered before becoming a barrier between him and her. The heat started to creep up his spine. "And what are you doing?"
"Taking a bird bath." Her clothes pooled around her ankles and he could see a slither of her legs. If Ena could see him now, she would smite him for being entangled with the Fool. It's worse when he is choked up about her toes dipping into the pool.
“What luxury do you have–"
"You can't talk big if you're hiding away from me." She giggled. Already, a leg emerged into the water, and a gentle sigh passed through her lips. If his wings could smother his face, he would allow it. Anything to go blind. "I didn't take you as being shy."
Sunday didn't entertain the question. But without a single word said, she settled on the other side of the tube. Waves crashed against him, his shoulders tense when sensing her body. Her feet crept to his calves to make room and he had to swallow the lump in his throat.
"Enough." He bit out, wings tucked away, as he faced Sparkle. "You've had your fun, Fool."
Stripped from every accessory, her hair hanging off her shoulders, and her face stripped clean from makeup, Sparkle appears a lot softer to Sunday. Strange, how she looked unfamiliar but a side he had not seen from her before. Still, she had a small smirk and knowing eyes.
“You are so apprehensive." To make her point, her toe crawled up his thigh slowly. But Sunday took her ankle in hand to stop her ministrations, which made her laugh. "It makes me wonder how much you go out."
"Enough if you are concerned."
She smiles. "For a caged bird."
For some time, Sunday begrudgingly interacted with Sparkle. The Oak Family had invited her to act like "Robin” to give them time to solve the mystery. Does he know for how long? No. And hope it's not an unforeseeable future while hunting for the murder of his sister. At least, the times they've been in proximity, Sparkle was "Robin".
Sunday soon allowed Sparkle's foot to lay by his ankle. His anger simmered from the thought of his sister who received a terrible faith. Nothing crossed his face as he started between him and Sparkle. Only reminiscing on the past and the what-ifs staggering in his mind.
He sighs. "Fool, if you are so delighted to see me, please tell me why exactly you're here."
She shrugs. The water moved with her body. "Would you believe me if I said I was checking up on you?"
Silence was her answer and she merely chuckled. "You don't look so good, Chicken Wing Boy. Not even when you were prancing me around in Golden Hour. Something is ruffling your tail feathers and I want to see what."
Sunday wasn't inclined to disclose anything with her. She'll most likely laugh in his face for his misery or make it a running gag to taunt him over it. The last thing he wants is his sister's face distorted in a malicious smile and chortling about his despair.
"I've been busy." He kept it brief.
"Stress getting to you?" She scoffed. "Tell me it's not true."
“I have my shortcomings. Is it hard to believe so?”
"No," she twirled a piece of her hair. "To me, it just sounds like you're avoiding my question.” She then hummed in thought. “ Should I guess, then?”
His lips thinned. "You...won't be far from the truth."
"What's the fun without a little challenge?" Just like her name, her eyes glinted and sparkled against the light. Before he could further counter her argument, she cleared your throat. "Let's see, are you upset I broke into your room?"
Sunday leered at the Fool. "You've just insinuated I've been mad all day. Crossing my boundary and invading my privacy as of late is a different matter.”
She raised a finger. "Hush. I'm still thinking." To empathize, she stuck out her tongue and massaged her head. "Oh! You didn't like how I'm not in Robin's room catching up on beauty sleep."
Now, he was simply getting annoyed. "You're being ignorant, Fool."
"Then," her finger pointed to the ceiling. "You're moping about your sister again."
He looked away from the accusation. And he could hear her smuggling laugh. Sunday’s body seized in warmth, even as his skin prickled, he felt hot under her gaze.
"Birdie, you've been sulking about the singer for far too long." She groans. "It's getting quite boring. Repetitive even."
His tone was low and threatening, and he chuckled. "I wasn't inclined to hear your opinion."
"Doesn't matter, because I'll say it as many times as I want until you change your tune. Otherwise, I'm leaving."
"You wouldn't. The Family has–"
"–has a very loose grip on me considering the colorful cast of characters they decided to bring on this planet." Sparkle finished for him. And anger was so visible on his face, the Fool only simpered. "Yes, Chicken Wing Boy, I would."
"Even if, what will that do? Weren't you the one who offered to help?"
Sparkle then huffs, with her eyebrows pinching, and the angel’s irritation starts to show. "Now we are just going in circles. But if you are so cowardly, then allow me to be blunt."
"You are so caught up in this madness that you can't see who the real fool is." She tipped her chin up. "If you are so self-righteous and assertive, why stumble on your feet? Why fall off your high horse? Even a jester on a tricycle has more balance than you."
His wings flexed once more. "Should I be insulted?"
"Should I be a path follower of your aeon?" She rolled her eyes. "If you allow this emotion to fester you'll lose sight of what is in front of you. Don't get too caught up in your head now, Sunday."
And then there was only silence between them. For the Halovian never looked away from the Masked Fool. And she only had a growing pleasure to see him squirm under her watch. Sunday may get caught up with Fool on a few occasions, but that doesn't mean he'll allow her unpredictability to get the best of him. The one thing he does forget is her strange situation. There were times she became too close for comfort. Something he should spend more time knowing.
But her words still rang like how the bell tolls at the highest tower. He, begrudgingly, looked away. Shutting his eyes for a few minutes, letting it sink in. "Your argument is sound."
She hums approvingly. He heard a soft swish from the water. "Figures."
She's right. His sister won't return to him no matter how much he pleads for Ena to set the balance back in place, or how many tears would slip in private. If he wants his plan to be effective he must be vigilant. The only undeniable need is to watch the culprit’s neck snap and watch the light slowly go out.
Yes, he’ll be more satisfied with those results.
Having a more uplifting mood. Sunday decided to deal with one more pestering matter. He faces Sparkle once more. "And since you've so kindly come, I would like–what are you doing?"
Her leg is the air above his head. His eyes trace down to find her hand scrub underneath her knee, as soap runs down to her thigh. He draws a breath as his wings twitch.
She raised an eyebrow when he kept staring. "As I said, I'm bathing."
"I didn't think you were being literal, Fool."
His wings came to the rescue to serve as a shield once more. "You should make haste and leave before I contact the Bloodhounds."
She groaned. "I work all day with you constantly berating me, and I can't wash up?"
"Not in my tube."
They continued to bicker and soon Sunday's threat became more of a lie as the minutes started to pass. Luckily, the Fool kept to her word and didn't leave until she was squeaky clean. And before Sunday could faint from seeing a little too much of her bare. Unfortunately for Sunday, he wouldn't think Ena would absolve him from what he saw within the time they bathed together. But what he could take away from the bath, is the strange urge to sleep in his silk sheets.
And he allowed himself to be helpless and fall limb on his bed.