Wrong Arrow

Author's POV "How'd it go?" A bubbly voice asks. Zicarius offers his buddy a boyish smirk. "Peachy. Had both of them right where I wanted." The exteriors were burned in extreme shade of red, starting from the hallway where the portal was, fading into a pastel peach when reaching the main hall. It's a rush hour, a long line of cupids waiting in fronts of offices if not the lounge area. This wasn't something new, considering that it was Valentine's Day. Or as they'd like to call it; The Dreaded Day. Which naturally meant doubling the task and tripling the exhaustion. Zicarius could barely keep up to his hyper friend as he takes the lead towards the office, momentarily stopping to wince when a scratchy echo vibrates the foundation of the place. Annoying and Deadly. The intercom had been caving in the whole room like an ambulance siren all day long. If Zicarius were to have his way, he'd have already vaporized that machine into a puffy oblivion. But he can't. So in the mean time, all he can do is send it a deadly glare. "Zicarius hurry up!" "Coming!" They open a certain door only to see a dark creature flying around. That creature's none other than Dyke. The keeper of the tales. And he's also in charge of assigning cupids to their perspective persons. In other words, he's one of the busy creatures running this whole business. Dyke’s all over the place, forcing through winds current, struggling to pull out every necessary papers needed for the day. Offices at Amour Headquarter's massive to say the least; each exterior created to fit the settlers taste. Cabinets in pink and white acted like walls, so tall and wide, every single drawer had at least five hundred to thousands of untouched and touched informations of a human. Once in, Harper slams the metal door shut before hollering over to the front desk where Ristle's been stuck all universe organizing the folders ready for handing since the beginning of day. Ristle and Dyke aren't alone though. There's someone else in the room. There's a white owl. Upon the presence of the two young cupids, the glorious white owl transforms into a man no older than everyone else. The night hold textures to his hair, twinkling with unknown sequence like stars in the dark. He adorned a simple shirt that flew with the wind, white as snow with lips so pink and full. He lands on the ground with a thud, flashing his white flip-ons across the peach-carpeted floor as he strides towards the front desk to join the busy Ristle. They believe he's name's Colby. Zicarius walks up to stand beside Harper, waiting patiently for his next mission to which his inner crave was granted immediately. Despite the hardship that came along with their job, he'll admit that it was all worth the adventures given out there. Zicarius may not know who he was before, but the love of thrills and challenges surely didn't just develop during his current life as a matchmaker. "Pearl Sora. “ Dyke voices out in a mumble, before flashing his ebony eyes towards Zicarius . Ristle, who had been doing his own work explaining to Harper his next task, stopped momentarily to throw a hesitant glance towards the owl. "You really sure he can do it?" Ignoring Ristle’s questioning tone, Dyke casually hands Zicarius a purple file that had been abandoned on the corner side of the table. But these two cupids don't need to know that. There's a smile etched across his lips, taunting in a way with a certain spark to his eyes. Somewhat mischievous. But the two cupids remain awestruck at the new color to even notice the glint of the owl. They usually come in the shade of red. Or pink. But never purple. Each shade actually represents the status of the applicant. Red means new found true love. Fresh and youthful. Pink presents new love after rejection. It circles the concept of bringing hope to a broken heart. But purple? They're still lost in the clouds about it's meaning. Zicarius and Harper can't help but wonder why this specific file was under a purple holder. In all of Zicarius’ three years of being a Cupid, he's only hardly ever seen two purple files been given out. One from a long distance, and then...this. It was just that rare. "She's eighteen years old." He goes on, rounding the table to take a quick peak at Harper’s opened file. "A college student, and your next priority." Curiosity eventually curses Zicarius stance as he his fingers reach for the file, practically snatching it it from the owl. Still grinning, Dyke steps back to plop on the seat behind him leaving Ristle sighing exasperatedly to his self. A couple exchange of words later, they leave the office to make a quick visit inside the lab department; where every Cupid gear themselves up for their mission. "What you getting this time?" Harper muses to his friend as the two doors allow them entrance, the immediate twinge of strawberries wafting pass their senses. So sweet and sugary that Harper can't help but sigh in satisfaction. The walls were painted a prestige pink, glass cabins aligned in a accurate line, filled with every equipment created to help a cupids work. Zicarius trails his eyes at the open room that's already mounted with a few to dozens of cupids picking out their weapons. It isn't crowded at all though, given the fact that the room was ginormous to begin with. "I'll have mine drink it." Harper murmurs to himself before disappearing off towards the vial sections. Zicarius still can't contemplate on what to use. He's never had a purple file before, and when he tried to ask the story behind the strange color, even just a little entail of why it's such a special case, Ristle and Colby only shooed them away. He considered that an unprofessional move. But who was he to complain? After a few minutes of pondering, he decides to go for the traditional bow and arrow. So he takes the golden bow and matching golden arrow, testing it out for a little while. He brings the now up and pulls the arrow further back from the lastic. Then he focuses on his target with one eye. Good enough. And all he knows, a purple victim could probably be the most easiest one out of them all. What could possibly go wrong? - There she was, sitting alone inside the library room with your nose shoved straight into your book. Shuffling could be heard beside Zicarius . And although it give away no maximum sound, being held victim under the piercing tone of the intercom all day had resulted to his ears being so sensitive like a rabbit. For short. Harper moving around sounded more like a herd of elephants running for their dear life while working their trunks at the same time. "Can you please be quiet!" Unfortunately, Harper gives no regards to Zicarius silent shriek and instead, steps out from their hiding spot behind the shelf. Why were they even hiding? Zicarius didn't know. It's not like humans could see or hear them anyway. This fact had eventually smacked Zicarius hard on the face when Harper made himself comfortable across the seat from Pearl Sora. The person from the file. The purple file. Who in returned, remained unfazed by the presence. Continuing to flick through her book, she reach a hand up to position her ear phones properly. By this time, Zicarius' already standing beside Harper , observing her every movement. And he gulps. Looking at her from a picture was one thing. Getting to look at her face to face is apparently a while different story. "She's pretty." Harper gushes with a serious look in his eyes. He leans forward, resting the sharpness of his chin above his palm. "Too bad she'll be taken today." Then turns to flash Zicarius a look. "Well, what are you waiting for? He's coming this way." Both cupids whirl their heads towards the entrance, catching that certain someone stepping in just in time. With a sigh, Zicarius reaches for one Arrow behind him, and steps a couple of feet back. Harper hops up from his seat to stand beside Zicarius , awaiting the spectacle to happen with sparkling eyes. The odds of Harper next target being in this university too. He can't help but chuckle at such coincidence. But it takes two to tangle anyway. After this, he'll just have to help Harper with his mission, before heading back to their realm. Zicarius positions his bow, aligned straight at the girl. He's never once missed a target. Never once overstepped a mark. One could say he was the best when it comes to aiming. There's a fair line between him and you, enough to have you feel the Arrow sting like a prick of a needle. So with his brows furrowed, he pulls the arrow back, and lets go. "What the heck was that?" Harper's surprised tone's merely a murmur as the Arrow now lingered at the far end of the shelf. Zicarius can't believe it. For the first time. He missed. By an inch. "Zicarius , quick. Shoot another one. She's leaving!" But it was too late. You've already passed your destined soulmate, all long gone even before Zicarius could retrieve another Arrow. Harper shakes his head. "Hey Zic, either today isn't your lucky day, or you've just picked the Wrong Arrow for the job."