accidental diligence

It had been over a month since the first cherubun had entered Burrowgatory— Dove, their name was. Sable hadn’t met them herself, but she’d seen the name here and there. In group chats, news articles… ‘cherubun’ was on everyone’s lips lately. For good reason too— it wasn’t every day a new species (subspecies?) was discovered. 

History in the making, a comment said. Unprecedented, a news article headline shouted, a picture below showing the cherubuns’ newly constructed home away from home. A bed of clouds far above the rest of Burrowgatory, an elevator tower connecting the two like a ship’s anchor.

“Alright buddy, you ready?” Sable asked, focusing on the pampki at her feet, who let out an excited little arf. She held out his red high-vis jacket, and Churro obediently lifted his front paws for her. Sable murmured a ‘good boy’ as she put it on him and buckled it in place, smoothing down the white letters on the side that read ‘SERVICE IMP, DO NOT PET’. He shook himself when she pulled away, the cream on top of his head wobbling with the motion. Sable giggled, and attached his harness when he finished. 

Sable pressed her lips together, and picked up the tupperware sitting on the table close to the door. Her fingers tightened around it until her knuckles lost color, and she stared at the front door. The Heavenly Embassy was Burrowgatory’s new neighbor, and— it was only polite to greet new neighbors, wasn’t it? And a cherubun named Primrose took care of the gardens, which were so important for the cherubuns’ health…

She had made a casserole for this. She had to leave before it got too cold. 

She had to leave.

Sable’s throat closed up, and she struggled to swallow around it. Did she have everything in her bag? Dramamine in case of motion sickness on the elevator, wallet, keys, phone, ibuprofen, hand sanitizer, tissues— her fingers twitched around the box of casserole with the need to check just one more time.

“Stop being a baby,” she whispered to herself, voice rasping along a throat that was suddenly too dry. “Just… go. It’s fine. You don’t even need half of that.”

Sable briefly let go of Churro’s harness to smooth down the edges of her sweater dress, and took a few hesitant steps forward. One, two, three. Counting her steps helped. 

Four, five, six.

Sable turned and locked the door behind herself. The air was cold even against her winter clothes; it sank its frigid fingers into the fabric, seeking the salvation of her body heat. She zipped up her jacket, denying its desire in the same motion as her first steps off the porch. Churro walked obediently at her side, his little paws going tap-tap-tap on the pavement.

Seven, eight, nine.

Ten, eleven, twelve.

Her count faded into the back of her mind, and Sable started heading for the Heavenly Embassy’s silhouette in the early morning sky. It would take approximately 30 minutes to walk there, the last few times she’d checked— but that would be about time for her medication, so Sable could stop by the cafe she’d heard so much about.

If things went according to plan, she’d get there at 10:30am. Not too early, but not too late. 

The walk to the Heavenly Embassy’s elevator passed in a similar manner, blurred into watercolors by the meandering anxiety of Sable’s thoughts and the steady clopping of her doll form’s hooves on the sidewalk. When the elevator tower last loomed ahead of her, Sable checked the time on her phone. 10:27am. Good, right on schedule.

Churro let out a few soft arfs, and sat down, looking up at her. It took Sable a second to remember what he was signaling, and sighed. “Thanks boy,” she mumbled, and fished around in her bag for her anxiety meds. The orange bottle was exactly where she left it— next to the ibuprofen and dramamine— and Sable fiddled with it for a second before deciding to leave it there for now. 

She’d get some food and coffee for her meds when she got to the embassy. It would be fine. This was part of the plan, and it would be fine. 

Churro pawed at her hoof, drawing her attention, then pressed his warm side against her leg. Sable smiled down at him, though the expression frayed at the edges. “You always know what to say buddy,” she whispered. Sable took a breath— four seconds in, seven seconds out— and pressed the elevator button. 

A few seconds, then a soft ding. The elevator doors slid open, and Sable walked in, spamming the button to make the doors close faster behind her. They thankfully closed without interruption, and with a press of another button the elevator began its journey upward. 

Sable, in fact, did not need the dramamine. 

The elevator doors slid back open with another ding, and Sable edged forward, poking the cloud… ground… grass? With a tentative hoof. It was surprisingly sturdy, and Sable took another measured breath before stepping out onto the Heavenly Embassy. Churro trotted out beside her, though he too pawed at the ground beneath them with a confused little huff. 

Sable lifted her eyes from the cloud-grass, and felt her breath catch. White marble buildings veined with gold lined the smooth white pavement of the street, wide sidewalks hugging either side. The street curved gently out of sight, a few street signs pointing to the greenhouse and other areas. Sable hesitantly stepped onto the sidewalk. Down the street to her left was an adorable little cafe— the sign hanging from the roof declared it to be the famous Paradise Cafe. 

Sable took a steadying breath, the cold air filling her lungs and stinging at the corners of them. It was so much colder this far up; she hadn’t expected it. 

Sable quickened her pace, and sighed when she crossed the open threshold of the nice warm cafe. “Hey, welcome!” chirped a voice from the counter, and Sable’s eyes met the cherubun’s.

Oh demons she’s cute what am I gonna do send help.

Dark skin with warm undertones, a short white afro, a glowing, pointed halo behind her head. Those curious wing-like ears had sparkle patterns in the fur, and round glasses were perched on her nose. Oh no even her work uniform is cute oh no—

“You, uh… gonna come in, or..?”

Sable was going to throw herself off the nearest cliff now.

“S-Sorry!” she squeaked, voice half-strangled as she hurried to the counter. Her face was hot enough that it stung against the lingering cold, and if her ears weren’t already pink, they probably would be now. 

The woman’s soft laugh— the warmest sound she’d heard today— didn’t help matters. “No worries. I’m Beanny, what can I get started for ya?”

Sable swallowed to force her throat open enough to speak. “Uh- um. Could I get a— mocha? Medium mocha to go, and a blueberry muffin?” Didn’t turn out how she’d practiced, but at least it was intelligible. 

“Sure, I’ll get right on that! Can I get your name?”

“Um. Sable.”

“Sable! What a cute name, really fitting,” Beanny said, and half of Sable’s soul up and left her body.

“O-Oh, um. Thanks, you too! Your name is cute too, I mean.”

Beanny grinned, somehow making her drink without looking at her hands. “Thank you, picked it myself y’know.” 

The wink Beanny gave afterward sent a swarm of Sweetinea fluttering in her stomach. Sable couldn’t help but laugh— partly in disbelief of how well this was going, despite her floundering. 

Beanny continued to chatter while Sable waited for her order. Sable was admittedly distracted by the confidence of her hands and smile, but responded when prompted or when there was a lull in the chatter. 

“I’ll let Prim know that the bun he asked for is on her way, yeah? Here’s your order by the way,” Beanny said as she slid the paper bag and cup across the counter. 

Sable’s heart pounded in her chest— fuck, what had she agreed to? Shit shit shit. “Um, thank you,” she managed, mentally smacking herself the entire time. She accepted her order after paying Beanny, and went to one of the tables to take her medication with the food and coffee. 

What had she agreed to? It wasn’t anything morally bankrupt, these were cherubuns after all, but— fuck, what if it was something difficult? She should’ve paid more attention. Fuck. Churro pawed at her hoof, and Sable had to stop, hands clutching her coffee. Five things she can see, four things she can touch, so on. She was good. This was fine. She’d just explain this to— who had Beanny mentioned? Prim? She would explain this to Prim, and everything would be fine.

Prim… short for Primrose, the bun who cared for the gardens perhaps? That was lucky at least. That’s who she made the sweet potato casserole for. 

Sable finished her food, forcing herself to go slowly, and left the cafe. Beanny called a goodbye, and she responded in kind over her shoulder. Sable’s shoulders loosened the moment she went out of sight, and she took a few moments to collect herself before following the signs that led to the greenhouse gardens. Soon enough, they loomed before her, and Sable practiced what she was going to say the whole way there. 

Hi, I’m sorry, there was a misunderstanding with Ms. Beanny, I’m not the bun you asked for—

Her rehearsal was cut off by opening the door to the greenhouse, a wall of warm, humid air rushing out to greet her. ‘Beautiful’ wasn’t the word for the greenhouse, not really— that wouldn’t do it justice. A bed of glowing flowers spread out before her, alongside other plants. She could name some of them, but others she’d never seen in her life. 

Kneeling in the flowerbed closest to Sable was a pale cherubun, his back to her. Soft-looking blond hair curled around his head, while his ears fanned out, highlighting his petite frame. His halo, unlike Beanny’s, was rounded like a disc. Thin, darker lines split it into perfect segments, and Sable wondered if there was a meaning to different halos. 

He stood and faced her, revealing a rounded face, narrowed golden eyes, and a sneer. Oh no.

“I see you took your time coming here,” he said, eyes flicking to the coffee in her hand, and Sable had to stop herself from flinching. 

“S-Sorry…”

“I accept your apology,” came the crisp reply. “As you may have guessed, I am Primrose, and you will be helping me plant these ambrosia flowers today. Am I clear?”

Sable swallowed hard, and gave a tiny nod, anxiety squeezing the air from her lungs. If she even tried to explain, he would be so upset…

“Is that… imp… safe to keep among the plants?”

“Oh yes of course, Churro is very well-behaved, he keeps me company while I garden all the time—” 

“Wonderful,” Primrose said, and Sable had to stop herself from saying well technically it was illegal to bar a service imp from accompanying their owner— “Do you have any questions?”

Sable worried her lip between her teeth, and gingerly pulled the tupperware from her purse. It was warm still, kept safe from the winter air. “I, um, this isn’t a question per se, but I made this sweet potato casserole as a gift for the bun who cares for the gardens, since I learned how vital they are to the health of cherubuns…”

There was a beat of silence, and Sable felt a little like she’d messed up somehow. Primrose was staring at her— shocked, maybe. She couldn’t say for sure. His expression softened into something warmer after another beat of silence, and he accepted the tupperware with a few graceful movements of his hands. 

“...Thank you,” he said with a genuine smile. “Sable, was it?”

Sable nodded. “Y-Yes, that’s me… Beanny mentioned, I assume?”

“She did indeed. Thank you for this thoughtful gift… perhaps some succubuns do understand the meaning of Charitia. I shall put this in my fridge for later, and— again, thank you Sable. Truly.”

No, Sable did not understand the meaning of whatever Primrose just said, but she simply smiled and nodded as he walked away. 

The moment he was out of hearing range, Sable could breathe again, bending to clutch her knees. “Churro I thought he was gonna kill me or something!” she wheezed. Churro just let out a soft arf, nuzzling her leg. With slow, deliberate motions, she unclipped his harness, and set it off to one side so it wouldn’t get in the way. Churro shook himself after, and waddled off to enjoy the warmth nearby. 

Sable took a few breaths, counting the seconds for them. Inhale for four, exhale for seven, hold for four. It felt like she only had a few seconds before Primrose came back, holding a pair of work gloves. He handed them to her without a word, and Sable scrambled to put them on. She wanted to just tell him, but— demons, her heart started pounding enough for Churro to take notice just thinking about it. 

Primrose beckoned her over to him with a few words, and Sable did as she was told, pulling up the hem of her sweater dress to kneel in the soil beside him. She held back a wince at the sight of his pristine white-gold pants getting dirty, but decided minding her business was the best modus operandi for today.

“Now,” Primrose said, digging a small hole with his gloved fingers, “you mentioned that you have prior gardening experience. This is excellent, but be aware that we are dealing with a precious resource for the cherubun population here. Furthermore, be aware that ambrosia seeds are very fragile, and will not grow properly if they’re broken or damaged— ah, a bit shallower there, please. There we are.”

Sable, who had begun following his lead and digging her own seedhole, was quick to adjust at his comment. Primrose reached over and grabbed a plastic baggie filled with seeds that glowed in the lights of the greenhouse. White, then gold, then white again— like crystals, or distant candlelight. 

“Here, I shall demonstrate how to plant them first,” he murmured, and with the utmost care, he reached in the bag and pulled out a single seed. Primrose gingerly placed it in the hole he’d dug, and began covering it with dirt. “You want to go a little at a time, so you don’t damage the seed with the weight of too much soil at once.”

Sable murmured an ‘okay,’ and Primrose took another seed out of the bag, placing it in her hand. Sable was mostly glad her hand didn’t shake as she placed it the same way Primrose had. Hyper-aware of his narrowed eyes, Sable was careful to gently brush the soil onto the seed. 

He seemed satisfied, and they soon fell into an easy rhythm. Dig a hole, place the seed, cover with cold, dark earth. It wasn’t so different from planting in her own garden, really. Primrose turned out to be nice company… when he wasn’t speaking… and the seeds themselves seemed happy to find a new home for themselves. 

And so they worked, Sable and Primrose, side by side. Sowing seeds to raise up till their leaves unfurled, till their flowers bloomed out to greet the world— radiant and ephemeral.