Chapter 2- Formula 666

~Formula 666~
A cluster of plants, a Tamagotchi toy, a plague mask, and the same idiot heart boy as before all sat huddled inside a shiny, jet-black SUV. An odd group, of course, but this was quite commonplace in the Capital.
The energetic J-pop coming from the car’s speakers didn’t do much to contrast the heavy silence from most of the vehicle’s occupants. The only one who seemed to be vibing was the Tamagotchi, who was humming along to the music as she applied bandages and other first aid measures to the heart boy, who sat with his arms crossed in the back seat next to her.
The plant obviously did not want to be driving this idiot around, but out of mutual respect and a soft spot for the Tamagotchi, they had agreed to help anyway. 
“So… that went well!” the Tamagotchi, tired of the tension, chirped, deciding she might as well try to break the silence.
“Tami, I broke six ribs.” the heart put bluntly.
“Well, who’s fault is that, idiot?” the plant shot from the driver’s seat. “How do you manage to fall from a 50-floor building on your own accord? That's got to be peak dumb@ss, even for you.”
“KELPIE!” Tami scolded, “what did we say about-”
“Oh yeah, sure, like you haven’t had your fair share of dumb moments.”  the heart interrupted, leaning forward, “Remember that time you almost drowned, despite literally having gills?”
“That was an accident, you jumped on purpose!” Kelpie retorted.
“That's great. Hey, Sam, you wanna help me out here?” the heart turned to the plague mask, who sat staring out the window, seemingly ignoring the others. “I know I already owe you one for saving me back there but it would be REALLY useful.”
Alas, Samuile gave no response. 
“Great. Thanks mate, very helpful of you.” the heart responded sarcastically.
“Well hey, at least you’re alright, Cupid…” Tami said. The heart boy turned back to her and crudely gestured at his injuries, “well, mostly.”
“We’re lucky he’s even alive!” Kelpie snorted, flicking her fishtail back and forth, giving poor Samuile no choice but to press himself against the car door just to avoid getting smacked. “At this point, I’m SHOCKED he’s not dead yet!”
“I’m just that good,” Cupid joked, giving them finger guns as Tami stuck another band-aid on his cheek.
“Kelpie’s right though, that was a powerful target, they’ll probably be sending people after you. Maybe it's best if you lay low for a little while to avoid getting killed?” Tami suggested. She turned to grab more supplies from the first aid kit sitting on her large lap as Cupid leaned back again and crossed his arms.
“Ugh, fine.” Cupid groaned, “Let's just hope King doesn’t mind me crashing again- hey! Ouch!” he yelped as Tami applied disinfectant to a scrape on his arm.
“Sorry! You keep moving.” Tami apologized.
The rest of the ride continued in a mess of Cupid and Kelpie bickering, Tami trying her best not to injure her childhood friend, and poor Samuile trying to doge the massive fish-plant woman’s flailing limbs. Somehow, they managed to make it to their destination alive, despite multiple traffic violations and narrowly avoided accidents.
They arrived and parked the black SUV in a garage. Kelpie and Cupid finally stopped arguing for a minute, although this was only to bypass the machine trying to make them pay for their spot. Alas, Tami managed to pay for them anyway despite the protests from the other two, talking about how “overpriced” and “stupid” having to pay for a parking space was.
She stuck her card back into the endless void that was Samuile’s cloak, and the gang started walking out of the garage towards a large, neon club. Loud, muffled music could be heard bursting from the inside, and flashing lights could be seen from the two windows on either side of the door.
Ah yes, Formula 666, known far and wide throughout the capital for its extravagant parties, incredible drinks, and, more importantly, for its underground dealing of illegal drugs and alcohol. It was also the workplace of yet another one of the silly heart boy’s lifelines, King. Trouble finding jobs? King had his back. Need to lay low for a bit? She’d let Cupid crash. Sick and can’t take care of himself? King’s got him. She never even asked for anything in return, stating that the chaos he’d always brought was the best entertainment she’d had in a long time. Cupid never knew whether or not to take that as a compliment.
As they reached the front of the massive line, Cupid did his best to avoid the glare of Alexei, the bouncer who, unfortunately, was working the Saturday shift, and every shift. Everyone swore he never moved. They already… knew each other, to say the least, so there was no need to scan IDs.
Inside, they were immediately greeted with the energetic screams of patrons and colorful, neon lights flickering like rebellious fireflies. The loud, pulsating bass perfectly matched the beating of Cupid’s racing hearts, just like a soundtrack to the chaotic night he’d had. Smoke machines and cigarettes created a shimmering, otherworldly atmosphere while many strange creatures got it down on the dancefloor. Graffiti covered the walls, seemingly moving along to the rhythm of the music. You know, your average nightclub, as long as you ignored the shady folk in the corners, engaged in hushed conversations. 
Well, that was pretty normal too, actually.
Samuile slowed down to gaze at one such corner, whose occupants seemed to be rather worried about whatever nonsense they were gossiping about. There was a very particular teardrop shape that each of them wore, one as a badge, another as a piece of jewelry, and the final a tattoo. 
Sam’s eyes widened and he turned away, hurrying to catch up with the other four.
The group made their way through the flickering lights and dancing beings. Kelpie, being by far the tallest, was the first to spot King on a hanging platform in the center.
There she was, the dark blue record disc in all her glory.  Through the countless colorful, hovering holograms, they could just make out the shape of the DJ, with her severed torso, limbs, and countless bright colors. Her single hand spun several records with flourish and ease while she danced to the music she created.
“Looks like she’s really into it tonight,” Cupid remarked, nodding his heart head to the rhythm of the bass.
“You say that every night,” Kelpie snorted.
“That’s cause it happens to be true every night,” Cupid pointed at Kelpie, with his other hand on his hip. He then turned to wave at King, trying to grasp her attention.
With said attention elsewhere and her single eye closed, it was no surprise that she didn’t notice him.
“That’s a bust. Guess we’ll be waiting for a little while.” Kelpie said, already heading to the bar.
“Kelp’s right, we shouldn’t interrupt her set.” Tami added. She quickly cut Cupid off as he inhaled, “Don't you dare.”
“I know, I know,” Cupid sighed in defeat. Not that he would have interrupted her, he knew that she cared too much to forgive him for a stunt like that, and frankly, so did he.
Instead, Cupid found Kelpie sitting in a booth on the VIP floor, with 2 exotic drinks and a great view of their favorite DJ. He scooched in next to them while Tami sat on the other side. Sam stood for a minute until bystanders started giving him weird looks, at which point he promptly sat down,  ruffling his feathers in annoyance.
Kelpie downed the drink in hand as a brightly dressed waiter came over. Tami ordered actual food for the table while Cupid attempted to flirt with the handsome server. Because of course he did.
Samuile just watched King mix her beats, occasionally glancing down to the lower floor to see if the three figures with the silver tears had left yet.
They hadn't.
The waiter, much to Cupid's disappointment, got tired of his antics and left to place the order.
They sat for a few minutes, Cupid half-listening to Kelpie and Tami scolding him and half-observing the group’s surroundings with Sam. From his position it was a bit difficult to see what the dapper fellow was staring at, so he switched his focus elsewhere as he took a sip from his drink.
The second floor of the Formula was an entirely new vantage point, providing a clear bird’s eye view of the swirling dance floor below. It consisted of the main balcony with booths and bar tables lining it, a lounge with huge glass windows and doors blocking it off from the rest of the club (and thank god too, with the amount of smoke in there), as well as a private bar consisting of much more… exciting drinks compared to the ones downstairs. 
The handsome waiter from before came back with their food, setting down a variety of dishes. He layed out a plate of sushi for the girls, and a strawberry crepe for Tami. Samuile quickly engorfed the truffle fries as soon as the waiter set them down in front of him, startling the server who just tried to ignore it and serve the rest of the food.
To his pleasant surprise, Cupid was greeted with a large bowl of tom kha gai. Chicken and mushrooms swirled in the soup like the seats of a carousel.
He turned to Tami with a hand on her cheek and a forkful of strawberries, wearing the smugest look someone without a face could make. Cupid leaned back in his chair with his arms folded, “Damn, you do know me well” he muttered, before darting up and shoving the entire bowl toward his face. Rich and creamy flavors circled in his throat, warmth surging through his aching bones. He hadn’t realized how hungry that fight from earlier had made him, but in an instant, he had already finished half of the soup.
Kelpie moved her head in a way that resembled an eye roll, scoffing at Cupid before grabbing a pair of chopsticks and picking at the tuna in front of her, separating it from the rice and throwing it up in the air before consuming it in one bite. There wasn’t exactly anyone around who would care whether the fish woman was cannibalistic or not, so she gladly enjoyed her meal in peace.
After what felt like a small eternity, King wrapped up her gig on a pulsing high note. 
“Well ladies and wonderbeasts, that’s it from me today” she finally said, her regal British accent echoing out through the club. “Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for the indie art rock band, Punk Violin, to *insert catch phrase here*!”
The crowd let out a cheer while King’s DJ booth raised into the ceiling and six others lowered down. Cupid couldn't help but join in the applause, loudly letting out embarrassing phrases such as “I KNOW HER” and “THAT'S MY BESTIE WOOO!”. King finally noticed him and blushed, cringing at the mortifying scene Cupid was causing.
Tami facepalmed, smiling underneath as she got up from her seat. “We should go say hi, and apologize for Cupid,” she chuckled.
“What? Why would you need to apologize,” He dramatically gasped, “I did nothing wrong,” he teased, putting the back of his hand against his head.
They walked towards a back door with a large sign labeled ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’, and while they weren’t technically employees, Cupid was close enough that no one really cared. *add a thing that the entire love bullet stuff helps business.*
Away from the riff raff behind them, the backstage room felt like the kitchen of a busy restaurant. Different musical acts were warming up and the lights beat down on a replica of the main stage. The air conditioning was working hard to keep the climate from heating up while so many bodies practiced.
Cupid looked around for King, spotting a few other familiar faces in the crowd. Mostly Performers and stage crew, but there were a few other friends there who probably also weren’t supposed to be there.
Sam moved behind him, gesturing to King as she stretched her arm and tried to shake off the massive amount of glitter that had gotten on her. She noticed everyone and waved as she made her way over.
“‘Evening, loves,” King yawned and put her hand on her hip, “Cupid… you sure look like you had a fun time.”
Cupid looked down at his bandaged body and ripped shirt, fully grasping the extent of his injuries. Tami really wasn’t kidding when she said he’d need to lay low, everything ached and this would take a long time to heal without any healing magic, and that was hard to come by. Of course, he did personally know the Celestial of medicine- perks of being a demiarch- but he hadn’t talked to them in forever and only really saw them at Divine gatherings, so that plan would certainly be a bust.
“Ah.” He bemused, “Well, you know, I’m just your favorite walking disaster!”
“It’s a miracle you're still able to walk,” Kelpie grumbled as Cupid shot her a look. 
“Oh come on, they’re just a few small scratches!”
King chuckled and shook her head, “You certainly are something else, but I’m glad you’re back in one piece.” she brushed some foam off of her severed arm, “Well, good news is, I’ve got a new lead on a potential gig. Come, she’s downstairs waiting.”
Cupid’s face lit up, and he started to follow her before Samuile stepped in front.
“Remember what Tami said about laying low? It’s not a good idea to take another job right now.” Kelpie slid forward. 
Tami brushed her hair behind her ear, “King, I’m sure this offer is excellent, but it could be risky in his current situation.”
“Right, right. I definitely didn’t forget about that.” Cupid sighed, “Sorry King, but no can do.”
King nodded, understanding the situation. Her stance shifted though, hinting that she might have known more.
“I won’t force it, but I recommend meeting with this client anyway,” Ah, she did know more, “I can’t say anything until we’re in private but… this is a very powerful client, and a very good opportunity. No commitments yet, just- a chat to see how things go.”
“That seems reasonable,” Cupid shrugged, then turned and waved the others goodbye. Kelpie groaned, Tami covered her face in her hands and sighed.
“I’ll see you in a bit then,” he followed King back into the main club.
Downstairs, the club was still ablaze with energy. Cupid couldn’t help but stealthily pull out one of his dualies and create a couple of smoking bullets, each glowing a bright white-pink. As he and King continued to walk forward he loaded the weapon, singling out two lonely beasts sitting next to each other at the bar.
Cupid aimed at one through the ever-moving crowd, waiting until just the right moment.
And then he fired.
The bullet was absorbed into the beast’s back, who didn’t even notice. Cupid quickly reloaded and struck the other. The couple quickly began flirting, buying each other drinks and exchanging other such pleasantries. Cupid grinned at his success as King turned to grab his arm so he wouldn’t get distracted anymore.
It didn’t really stop him though, as he managed to connect several other lonely partygoers before they reached the spiraling staircase that led to the lower floors of the Formula. *little comment about how he’s the demiarch of love he’s going to mess around and no one can stop him.*
They were met at the bottom with significantly more guards than usual. There were typically quite a few scattered around the floors of the building, but this was on a whole other level. It looked like someone’s entire private army had shown up.
One guard stopped King and they whispered to each other, too quiet for Cupid to hear. King handed her the small pocket knife she was carrying and motioned for Cupid to do the same with his weapons. He grumbled but knew better than to protest, handing the guard both of his g*ns, several switchblades, and the taser he kept in his boot for drastic measures. The guard nodded and moved aside to let the Disc and Heart pass.
They could vaguely sense the aroma of vanilla and kerosene as they moved through the long hallway. Quite an odd smell, but not the strangest thing they’d experienced there, especially considering the club’s owner.
Cupid, curiosity now peaked, followed King down the staff-reserved hall. They passed a couple doing some…questionable things in the privacy of the dark corridor. He could see a light under the last door, and the closer he got, the stronger the smell of vanilla and kerosene grew. 
A guard cracked the door open and it was like Cupid was in a different place altogether. The aforementioned fragrance hit him in the face, but there was something almost pleasant about the way it hung thick in the air. Royal-looking red velvet furniture with gold trim adorned every corner of the room, giving Cupid a sense of chique nobility, class with style, and maybe some tax fraud sprinkled in there. Smoke swirled around the crystal-covered lights, but it wasn’t cigarette smoke, more like some kind of frankincense, which would explain the smell. 
Through the haze, he could barely make out a feminine figure lounging on a glorified couch, with what looked like an unlit cigar in hand. A record player on the table next to them boasted loud Italian opera, loud enough to drown out the techno beats of the club not 100 feet behind him.
Cupid stood there waiting for the body on the other end of the room to make a move. He was paused for what seemed like forever, long enough for the record to finish.
Once the opera’s belting stopped, Cupid could see the figure stir.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” A woman’s smooth voice said with an air of power, “The opera helps me relax before I trust important missions with… freelance workers.”
Cupid scoffed. He already disliked her, especially after that line.
“But, unfortunately, I was told you’re one of the best in the business.” She moved again, striking a match to light her cigar.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Cupid grinned through his annoyance. Can’t upset a potential client, even if she was upsetting him.
“I’m assuming you know Snapdragon?” she chimed absentmindedly, taking a puff of her cigar.
Cupid nodded, “The Emperix.” Pretty much the most powerful being in the city. Both in fighting power and influence. The technical descendent of Queen Auvoir, who created this entire dimension and several others, and King Oleander, who helped mold the world into what it is now.
She killed her father shortly after her mother disappeared.
No one knew why. She didn’t know either.
Either way, since her coronation, she’d been avoiding her responsibilities like the plague. Preferring to run away and party as much as possible instead of solving the countless issues that had arisen in the Capital and many other realms. Not much of a problem for Cupid, it helped keep the authorities off his back. The absurd inflation rates sure were annoying though.
Either way, It was pretty easy to tell that this client wanted what many others had before her.
“I want her dead.” She spoke.
Called it.
The figure stood up and walked through the smoke. He could see her now, but he wasn’t exactly sure what to think. She looked dead. Mostly at least. Well, she looked more like something was growing in her that shouldn’t be there. On the other hand, she was adorned with an amount of gold jewelry that toed the line between impractical and befitting for her air of authority. Her face looked like it was mainly bone of some kind, and so did the rest of her actually. Except for some kind of rot that was leaking out of places it shouldn’t.
“Would you like a drink?” She walked over to a clear crystal bottle sitting on a coffee table to the left. Two glasses were sitting next to each other, waiting.
Cupid slid onto the chair in front of him, holding out a hand, “Always.” 
As the liquid hit the bottom of the cups, it swirled into a bright pink. Anyone could recognize that as Devil’s Tears, one of the most expensive brands in the city. The woman picked it up and gave it to Cupid.
“Cheers,” He raised it and took an apprehensive sip, afraid it would be a letdown. He was caught by pleasant surprise when it, in fact, wasn’t. It had a fruity taste and a slight burn at the end, he tasted a hint of lavender as well. 
“What has your highest paying job been so far? If you’re keen to share?” She swirled hers around, watching it.
“❈80,000,”
“Alright, now what if I told you that was a penny in comparison to what you could make from me?” She stopped twirling and looked up at him with the one piercing eye socket that wasn’t covered by a giant mushroom.
“Sure it is,” Cupid chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “How much are we talking anyway?”
“10 million blooms.”
“Sh*t,” His heart rates sped up immediately.
She let out a small chuckle and grabbed a briefcase from behind the couch. 
“This is a third of the payment, which you get right now if you agree to do it.”
Cupid could feel the adrenaline rush through his body, that was a damn lot of money, That was enough to fund a private healer and get that failed target from earlier off his back, plus personal expenses and yearly vacations. 
He thought about asking her to wait while he talked to his friends about it. This was his job though, not theirs, and he didn’t have a convincing reason to turn it down either.
Besides, the thrill of taking out such a powerful target was almost irresistible. This could be just the distraction he needed with all the bullsh*t happening in his life recently.
Like she could see the wheels turning in his brain, she spoke up,
“Well?”
Cupid sighed, “F*ck it, I’m in.”
The Corpse set the briefcase down, walked over to him, and held out her hand,
“I’m Hydnellum, pleasure doing business,” she pulled a card out of her blazer pocket, “I can see you want to gather your little friends, so once you do that, meet me at this address. Within 12 hours, don’t be late.” Hydnellum set the card on the table next to Cupid’s drink.
Cupid just stood there contemplating what he’d gotten himself into. The Emperix? Dead? Did she have any idea of the turmoil that would arise from that? He stared after her as she re-lit her cigar and walked out the door.
“Oh, you can keep the bottle by the way,” She gestured to the Devil’s Tears and the door closed behind her.