Set back amongst the darker backdrop of Burrowgatory lies a serene garden, with lush greenery as far as the eye can see. Exotic glowing variants of ambrosia, many of which had never been seen to the eyes of a Succubun, grow throughout in a variety of colors and shapes. It's like a tranquil oasis, bathed in gentle sunlight. It's clear that this place has been carefully cultivated and maintained, with pristine rows of plants growing side by side. The greenery has the unmistakable look of someone who loves plants and spends a ridiculous amount of time tending to their own garden. The flowers are vibrant and colorful, making this space a joy to exist in.
Despite this, Furi's nose is scrunched up, and he wears a frown on his face as he adjusts the tacky overalls that don his body.
What a stupid activity.
Furi's back is hunched as he continues to work, and there is an expression on his face that is something between annoyance and embarrassment. For someone that had never tried their hand at gardening, the way he handles the tools is impressive. He has a very careful touch, and he pats the dirt over the seeds, a very stern looking Primrose watching over him as he does so.
Primrose smacks his hand away when he lifts up the watering can. Rotten, Furi's Ryuudra, is giving the stuffy angel a look, as though ready to bite him at any moment.
"No, not like that," the Cherubun says with a scowl, "If you drown the seed it'll die. Oh dear, and that's much too shallow."
"Then why don't you do it," Furi says, "I don't even want to be here. You're lucky they're paying me for my time."
"Mm, right, what was that again, paying you in volunteer hours, that you needed after your own mess ups? If you didn't want to waste my time then you should have contacted a different organization. Planting ambrosia is much more complicated than tending to a regular garden. They are delicate at every stage of growth." Primrose begins to undo all the work Furi has done, digging up the seed. "You may as well go and pick out some weeds, that's all you folk are good for."
Furi stands abruptly. "My folk?" He scoffs. "Fucking hypocrite. At least I'm not lying to myself about how bad I wanna be in Burrowgatory." Despite his verbal protests, he walks further off to begin plucking weeds, abandoning a rather disgruntled looking Primrose in the background.
Furi continues to pluck weeds with an odd expression; it's a mix of irritation and exhaustion, and his visible eye flickers with a slight malice. Damned angels. How he would give anything to live with even the most cruel angel... these Cherubuns only know privilege and they left it, for what? For this? He'd rather be surrounded by the usual debauchery one would find in town than whatever this heavenly caricature is. It was a bad idea to accept these tasks.
His chain of thought is broken when he hears Primrose walk closer.
"I do want to be here. I-- I left my home for here. I had security there," the Cherubun says with furrowed brows, clearly feeling the need to correct Furi. "I care for my people. They need this embassy to guide them towards the right path. Forgive me, I was... insensitive with my word choice. The embassy is a place for both Cherubuns and Succubuns alike to find peace and unity."
The words sound rehearsed and almost clinical to Furi; it's like a perfect businessman would say it. But that's what Primrose is, isn't he? A poster boy for how well adjusted Cherubuns in Burrowgatory could be.
"If you wish to prove yourself to the virtues, you must be diligent, and face whatever adversity strikes you," the angel preaches once more, a hand now fiddling with the hem of his sleeve, "That is what Melangel taught us."
There's something bitter about the way he says that name. Similar to how Furi would speak of the Red Queen, the woman who raised him.
No, but Melangel never laid a hand on them. Melangel never put them such awful, excruciatingly painful things -
- Furi knew nothing about them though, did he? And how dare he judge the Red Queen, when she was nothing but kind and charitable, and just a little strict...
He's still bitter, and despite the angel's earnest efforts, all he receives is another glare, as he tosses a few more weeds for Rotten to catch on their back. They plop them into a neat little pile, creating a hoard of sorts, or perhaps a nest.
"I'm sorry," Primrose reiterates, "Would you like me to guide you through the process of planting ambrosia?"
Furi decides he may as well get something out of this experience. Maybe he can grow some in his backyard and feed it to a Succubun he doesn't like. That would be a great story for the news. He still has lingering doubts about the integrity of this bun, as he does with most, but he decides it doesn't matter. He believes most are fake, anyhow.
Primrose gently retraces their steps, guiding Furi back to the very starting point. With a delicate touch, he guides Furi's hand with his, a moment where the contrast between their experiences becomes palpable. Primrose possesses the knowledge and skills of a seasoned gardener, but his hands retain an unexpected softness, as though the hard work had never left its mark. Despite this, he has surprising precision. Each movement is calculated, every action deliberate, revealing his meticulous nature beneath his untouched exterior.
Despite meeting the Cherubun prior, he acknowledges he is just a stranger to Furi... although that does not change his low expectations of him.
"..There, wonderful."
"I understand now, Prim," Furi hums.
"I would hope so. Did you have any questions?"
"Just a few. Do you mind staying a little longer?"
This is going to take a while, but Furi supposes he has enough time in the world to spare.
