Agent 38: In The Making

Chapter 34: Let's Have Fun

*This chapter is still in the middle of the night at the club, just as an fyi. Art does not belong to me. Also... presenting DJ Sango and 8Ball!*
     Three slid his hands across the records with gentle gracefulness, producing a loud, head-bop-worthy tune. He replayed that tune over and over again, eventually adding a beat and melody to it. It sounded like a wicked remix of Nasty Majesty, which quickly made the crowd start dancing. Eight danced along next to him, then eventually grabbed the microphone and made up some BANGIN' lyrics on the fly, dropping words like hot stones.
     "Take a loss but you're wastin' time!" Eight sang, her voice a beautiful symphony. "Make a mess 'cause you're thirsty! Tease, I can't feel the least you've done y'keep beggin' the octo and sinking the fight! Takin' issue unless you die, sinkin' faster, faster, while you're looking at your bite, 'cause I lie, 'cause I chase you good bye, should've guessed he must've appeared to confess his ties!"
     Her words tumbled out so quickly and smoothly that he had to quicken his pace to keep up. Three clicked several buttons with one hand, moved a few bars up and down with the other, all while adjusting his headphones and moving the records to distort the music in a cool way that flowed with her words. (Btw these lyrics belong to Caitlyn Koi not me lol) The Inklings and Octolings down in the crowd looked so astonished and yet pleased with his choice of mate, their expressions still crystal clear even though they were dancing.
     After about an hour of DJ-ing and Eight rapping, he took her hand and led her back down the stairs, through the crowd who tried to bombard them with photos and autographs and compliments, and to the bar, where it was a little more quiet. The bartender saw him, smiled, and quickly turned to prepare his favorite drink.
     "And what for the lady?" Said the barkeeper, his voice an odd deep tone that cracked whenever he tried to raise his voice. Three distinctly remembered this barkeeper, since he'd helped with his DJ upbringing. His name was Ezran, an Inkling with a rather bold personality.
     "Just a red wine, please." Eight asked.
     "'Course." Ezran said. "Hey, Sango, what took you so long?"
     Three pulled up two chairs, one for him and one for Eight. "Whaddaya mean?"
     "Y'know," Ezran said. "To come back and start being a DJ again. We all missed you like mad. And hey, your girl is a great rapper, too."
     He laughed while Eight just looked flustered.
     "U-um, thanks?" She said, tucking a tentacle behind her flat ear.
     Ezran turned and smoothly slid the glass of red wine across the table, which came to a stop right in front of Eight. She smiled approvingly and slid her fingers around the stem of the cup in a beautifully elegant way, lifting it to her mouth to drink as Ezran finished Three's.
     They sat at the table and talked for quite some time, wasting the night away as the hours ticked by. He eventually got up and started DJ-ing again, which was a lot more exhilarating than he remembered it being the last time he'd been up in the booth, just a while before his father had died. When Three returned back down to the bar, Eight wasn't there. He asked Ezran where she'd gone, but all he said was that she left into the dance floor after a few glasses. So he went into the crowd to look for her.
     He bustled and squeezed through the mob of dancing people, occasionally tripping on people's feet or getting jabbed by random people's body parts, whether it be elbows or chins or knees. Out of nowhere, someone suddenly stumbled backwards into his arms and he almost pushed her away, thinking her a random Octoling grooving in the crowd. However, when she looked up at him with dazed, unfocused pearl-like eyes and a crooked half-smile, Three realized with a grin that it was Eight.
     "Hey, Three," She said, her words a bit slurred. "Where have you been?"
     He laughed. "Being a DJ. You?"
     "I talked to the, um, what was he called...? Oh, the bartender for a while, then went to ma- I mean, dance and... well, it's gone a 'lil bit weirdish from there." She smiled up at him, staggering away from his arms and swaying lightly on her feet.
     "You're drunk, aren't you?" He asked.
     "M-hmm, definitely." She said. "What does that mean?"
     "It means," He said, taking her hand. "You've had a few too many glasses of wine, my love. It also means we have to go home so we can train tomorrow."
     Eight followed him out of the secret door into the cold night air. He thought it better not to take Pheonix, since Eight might randomly fall off if he wasn't paying attention to her, so they walked back to the apartment in silence. Once there, Eight was practically sleepwalking, and instantly went to bed while he grabbed a massive tub of ice cream from the freezer and wolfed it down while watching a movie that might've lasted until at least 3 in the morning, when he finally went to bed.

     The next morning passed by in a blur, with Eight complaining ever so often that she felt nauseous and kept burping for no apparent reason. Cuttlefish had called a mandatory meeting over text ("You all need to come to octo valey so we cAn. Train today") so they could discuss any possible training areas and then practice at said training spot. Three was spectacularly nervous about this, since Eight had suggested the Metro only a day earlier.
     Once they'd all arrived (Him, Eight, Four, Gabriel, Pearl, Marina, Callie, Marie, and Cuttlefish), the group of 9 sat down on chairs that gathered in a circle around a small table in front of the Cuttlefish Cabin.
     "Well," Marie started, as she usually did, without preamble. "Agent 4 suggested that we go train at the Octoling Raid kettles that he trained in, so that's a good option. Do any of you have other ideas?"
     Three sat forward slightly to glance at Eight, who was hesitating. She saw his gaze on her, gave him a "sorry, but I have to!" Look, and opened her mouth to speak. Pearl and Marina's eyes met his, both with undeniable looks of terror on their faces, and he nodded. Cuttlefish shot him a glance as well.
     "I have an idea," Eight said quietly. "But I don't know if you'll all be ok with it."
    "Either way, I'm going to consider it," Marie said with a grin, her starlike eyes glinting in the sunlight. "Go ahead, spit it out."
     "Well, I was thinking maybe we should train in the Metro, like I did." She blurted. Marina looked about ready to cry, Pearl looked disappointed, Cuttlefish looked downright horrified, while he was tempted to slam his head down on the table with a scream. "I know, I know, it's a risky idea, but if we can all be better fighters for it and have more experience with," She swallowed. "The sanitized Octarians, then isn't it worth it?"
     Marie considered this for a moment with an odd look on her face that might have been a mix of pity and guilt. Then, to Three's despair, she nodded. "Alright. I think it's a good idea, if not for a few of the Agents being a bit concerned with it. All in favor, raise your hand."
     Marie lifted her arm. As did Callie, and Eight, and Four, and Gabriel, and Cuttlefish, and Pearl. Marina glanced around furtively, then reluctantly raised her hand. Everyone turned to stare at him.
     Three sighed. "Fine, fine, let's all go dump ourselves back into the hellhole."
     "Then it's decided." Marie said, grinning. "I'll give you all an hour to get ready and then we'll go down into the Deepsea Metro."
     "Eight, a word, please?" Marina asked, standing up from her chair and beckoning for her to come. She agreeably stood up as well and left with Marina behind the Cuttlefish Cabin. Moments later, he could hear them blubbering and gurgling, and he guessed they were talking in Octarian. He'd have to ask Eight to teach him some later. In the middle of their sentences, sometimes normal words snuck through, and from what he could gather, Marina was basically begging her to change her mind. Three would've as well, except he was sure nothing could change her mind.
     *An hour and a half later...*
     The small group of Agents followed Eight through the deserted Square, quietly creeping in and out of the shadows to avoid being seen. Marie had a small radio in hand to communicate, Callie hefted her Gold Dynamo Roller around, Aaron firmly gripped his Hero Dualies, Gabriel's Brella opened and closed ever so often, Three had his Charger propped up on his shoulder, and Eight held her Inkbrush high.
     They were headed straight back into the hellhole.

Hi. Me again. So, next chapter is going to be training in the Metro, and another chapter for Metro, and the 37th chapter'll be Splatoween. Btw, pls ask if you want trick-or-treating or haunted house or pumpkin patch for 3, 4 and 8 on 37.
Word count: 1568