PURSUIT OF DILIGENCE: ride along

“Finally,” Primrose huffed, seemingly in response to hearing the greenhouse door creak open. He didn’t turn, instead speaking loudly to address the succubun who had entered: “Tardiness is not a sin in itself, Celestite, but I hope you have a good reason for being late! I don’t have all day to wait around for—GOOD HEAVENS!”

The cherubun had turned around mid-sentence and was now dramatically clutching his heart as he stared at Celestite. Or, more specifically, what Celestite held in his arms.

“Absolutely NOT! I don’t know what made you think you could bring that—that thing—!” He pointed at the small creature, “Into the embassy! How did no one—!? Nevermind! I forbid it! Take that thing out of here at once!” 

The abhorrent sight in question was a loafki, cradled in Celestite’s arm, that seemed oblivious to the small uproar her presence was causing. Celestite rolled his eyes at the display. “Chill out. She’s not going to hurt anything,” he replied evenly. “I just got her and she’s got some separation anxiety. As long as I’m with her she’s fine, though. I figure she can hang out while we work.” 

Disbelief, horror, and confusion seemed to cycle across Primrose’s face as he tried to struggle which to decide on. 

“Have you not met an imp before?” Celestite followed up, and took a step closer. “Here, look, you can pet her—”

“DO NOT get that thing any closer to me!” Primrose took two steps back, bumping into the table behind him. The blunder made his face flush pink and seemed to quell his temper, lest he embarrass himself more. He took a deep breath and adjusted his sleeves. “I am…familiar with the imps. I’ve not encountered many in person before, no. I understand them to be a rambunctious type of creature, however, and I don’t want to risk anything happening to the ambrosia.”

The loafki in his arms still hadn’t moved. During their exchange, she’d only spared the greenhouse a glance before going back to sleep.

Celestite looked between the small creature and Primrose. “Even if she tries anything, it’s not like she can get more than a few steps faster than either of us. Just, let her hang out. She can sleep on my cloak. If she even looks like she’s going to start trouble, I’ll take her and leave, alright?” 

Primrose returned his gaze with evident doubt. But, it seemed even he had to admit to himself that the imp didn’t look like a threat. After a long pause he huffed and relented. “Fine. One wrong move, and that thing, as well as all of its kind, are banned from the greenhouse.”

“Agate.”

“W…what?”

“Her name is Agate. Don’t be rude.”

Primrose pursed his lips and Celestite could swear he spoke through gritted teeth. “Agate.”

Though he was clearly distrustful of Agate, he allowed Celestite to set her up on his cloak within eyesight. She stretched and happily settled into a loaf on the fabric. Primrose shot her one more glare before launching into his lecture for the day.

Naturally, he explained, the water from the Burrowgatory would be too disgusting and trained to foster the growth of such delicate plants. In all of their boundless wisdom, apparently, Melangel gave the embassy a cloud to build upon not just for the right type of soil, but because dew could be harvested from within to water the ambrosia with. Primrose prattled on a while longer about the process, how important it was, and other boring technicalities that left Celestite struggling to stay focused on his words. In his mind, it was several long minutes of fanfare that amounted to: “here’s the special water we use to water the plants”. 

Finally, he presented Celestite with an ornate, gold watering can. “Now, I’ll do one first so you can see how much water they should get. The last thing we need is for them to be flooded, or left without enough water, understand?”

Celestite stifled a yawn and nodded. 

Primrose gave his demonstration, letting water pour over the short stem for a few moments before straightening again. “Alright. Go ahead. I’ll be watching you. And…her.” His eyes narrowed at the sleeping imp. 

“You got it.” 

He accepted the watering can from Primrose and began with the next plant, counting out five seconds every time he let the water rain down over the bud. Though Primrose occasionally cut him off early, much to his annoyance, he soon settled into a rhythm that seemed to satisfy the cherubun. He had moved onto the next bed of ambrosia when the other man suddenly barked, “There! See! I told you it—!”

Celestite turned to see that Agate had stood. Only to tamp down the cloak a bit, walk twice in a circle, and curl up again. 

He bit back a laugh and instead kept his expression even as he looked at Primrose. The cherubuns cheeks flushed bright pink and he cleared his throat. “Ah, I was…mistaken. Carry on.”

A slight smile settled on his lips and he turned to hide it. The next half hour was spent carefully watering the flowerbeds dotting the greenhouse. As he reached the last batch of ambrosia, Celestite noted that Primrose had drifted closer to where Agate slept, seeming curious about her. He was so intent on watching that he jumped when Celestite approached him a few minutes later, announcing, “Alright, all watered.”

“Oh! Yes, of course. Good,” he stammered. His usual demeanor returned and he accepted the watering can from Celestite. “For a denizen of hell, you seem adequate at handling such delicate creatures.”

“That’s sweet of you.” Celestite scooped up Agate, rousing her from her nap, and threw his cape over his shoulder. “If that’s all, I’ll be on my way. Unless…”

He paused, and then held out Agate. 

For a long moment he didn’t move. Then, Primrose reached out a hand and placed it upon Agate’s head. It wasn’t exactly petting, but close enough. He retracted his hand after a moment and quickly moved to put the watering can away. “Yes, that is all, you may go.” 

Satisfied, Celestite took his leave.