The Importance of Diligence: Part 2

Dove hadn’t been expected visitors that afternoon, but the sound of impatient rapping on their apartment’s door was insistent. Their roommate had warned them about answering the door to strangers, but surely there was little harm in seeing what the person knocking wanted. Everyone in Burrowgatory had been kind to them so far.

“Just a minute!” Dove called in their light, pleasant voice, a bit of birdsong that seemed to silence the knocking for a moment. They crossed the apartment, stepping carefully over a discarded leather jacket on the floor, and opened the door.

Dove hadn’t seen the succubun at their doorstep before. He sported two pronged antlers rather than the single-pointed horns that most of the succubuns Dove saw had. Just like their roommate, Dove thought. That was about where the similarity between the two ended, though. His antlers were much taller than hers, and sharper. Really, he was tall in general, so tall Dove had to crane their neck to look him in his pointy-featured face. However, while Dove’s friend wore clothes bristling with spikes and studs to hide what Dove knew was a gentle heart, this stranger seemed to downplay his sharpness with a soft sweater and pastel fabric.

“You must be Dove! My name is Narcissus Jonquil. A pleasure.” The succubun grinned broadly, revealing a mouth full of jagged fangs, four of which gleamed gold. “Mind if I step inside?”

Narcissus barely waited for a slightly confused nod from Dove before he edged past them into their apartment. As he passed, Dove noticed he held two large bags, one tucked in each arm.

The apartment was far from the highest-end penthouse in Burrowgatory, but its rough edges had been disguised with a few domestic touches provided by Dove – a doily here to hide a stain, a painting there to cover a crack in the wall, and a quaint little tea set on the nearby table, amusingly sat next to a few discarded beer bottles. With a grunt, Narcissus hefted the two heavy bags in his arms onto the table. With a showman’s flair, he swiveled each bag around to show their logos: elegantly drawn tea leaves, with script beneath showing they were sourced from the Heavenly Embassy.

“Straight from the heavens to your table.” Narcissus beamed. “Primrose told me a little bird was short on their tea leaves; so! Here I am delivering them to your nest.”

Narcissus didn’t look like the usual type to be doing odd jobs. He certainly didn’t need the money, judging by the many rings, bracelets and earrings that sparkled on his person. The slight furrow of his eyebrows belied a hint of annoyance at being designated a gopher, but he kept his voice light and sparkling.

“Oh, thank you!” Dove fluttered over, their winglike ears bouncing behind them as they went. They reached into a pocket hidden in the folds of their dress, pulling out a few meager carats. “What do I owe – “

Narcissus held his hands up, then gently clasped Dove’s, folding their fingers over the carats in their palm. Giving their delicate fingers a soft pat, he practically crooned, “no charge, no charge. Your smile is all the payment I need.” He was beaming now, relishing the gratitude in the small, demure smile Dove returned his grin with. He liked this bird. They didn’t take much to impress, it seemed. He always loved an easy win.

Unfortunately, Narcissus couldn’t keep up his façade of charm for long. In a moment, his grin was wrinkled by a look of disgust. He sniffed the air, peering around until he found the source – a still-smoking cigarette butt in a well-used ashtray, the pack of cheap cigarettes beside it. Odd. He didn’t take Dove for the type.

“You angels probably don’t have this where you’re from, but you ought to know smoking this stuff’s bad for you.” Narcissus scoffed, holding up the pack and shaking it. “It’ll make you stink.”

“Oh, those aren’t mine,” Dove said, a little embarrassed. “They’re Jackal’s.”

In a flash, Narcissus’ smug smirk vanished into a look of surprise – maybe even horror. “Jackal?”

“Yeah?” A low, gritty voice, edgy and in no mood for tomfoolery. Narcissus didn’t need to look to know who it belonged to.

Another envy succubun had entered the scene, leaning against an open doorway. Smoke trailed from the cigarette held in her grit teeth. In all the ways Dove was light and airy, she was dark and scary. Especially when she was angry. Which was right now.

“Oh! Do you two know each other?” Dove asked, innocent as can be.

“Barely,” Narcissus said. He recovered his cool, carefree demeanor from his shock almost immediately. His voice was almost a yawn as he waved his hand dismissively, like lazily swatting away a fly.

Jackal wasn’t so breezy. She glowered up at Narcissus from under her lowered brows. “I wish I didn’t.”

Jackal stepped out from the doorway, advancing on him, each step heavy against the floor from the steel toes of her combat boots. Narcissus kept his cool expression, but Dove noticed him lean away from Jackal, one hand slowly moving up to his chin as if preparing a defense against a possible uppercut.

“What in Murmur’s name are you doing here, asshole?”

“Oh, just trying to help out the needy and less fortunate. Like Dove here.” Narcissus made a little twirly gesture with his fingers towards the cherubun, but kept one hand in the vicinity of his face – just in case.

“Oh, now you care about helpin’ folks out? That’s a change.” Every one of Jackal’s words dripped with venom.

“Sure. I’m rehabilitating my image –”

“Oh, your image. Of course, it’s all about your fuckin’ image,” Jackal scoffed.

“Not just that!” Narcissus protested, a little too loudly, a little too quickly. He took a breath, maybe to steady himself – or maybe to well up a little venom under his tongue to match what Jackal what spitting. His would be different, though. Slow, seeping, but far more toxic.

“I mean, hells, we wouldn’t want any of these poor sweet cherubs to end up in a place like…“ He paused, eyes slowly, meaningfully scanning around the shabby apartment. Finally, Narcissus’ gaze landed on Jackal, and a slimy smirk slithered across his face. “…Well. In a bad place.”

“Yeah?” Jackal gave a cold, humorless chuckle. “What would be better? They end up in mansions with rich pricks like you and all your fake friends? Slingin’ around cash to everyone who’ll take it because they can’t get anyone to stand ‘em without bribing them first?”

“Why so hostile? What’s so wrong about being wealthy, Jackie?” Narcissus tilted his head to one side, one long ear flopping against his shoulder, lips pursed in feigned concern. “Are you envious?”

At that, Jackal lunged forward – but stopped when Dove moved in front of Narcissus with a barely audible sound of alarm. As much of a peacekeeper as their name would suggest, Dove stepped in between the two envy buns, trying to quell the conflict before they locked their antlers in battle like dueling Freigns.

“Listen,” Dove began, tremulously, placing a gentle hand on Jackal’s shoulder. “I don’t know what Mister Jonquil has been like before –”

“Good for you,” Jackal interrupted with a glower directed in Narcissus’s direction.

“Buuut,“ Dove continued, drawing the word out in a soft sing-song tone, “if he’s trying to be better, isn’t that a good thing?”

Jackal’s scowl softened as she sighed. “…Dove, it’s sweet that you care. Sweet that you can trust people. Honest. It is.”

Jackal took her gaze off Dove to stare Narcissus in the face, her eyes boring into his. “But some people don’t deserve it. Some people are just fuckin’ assholes. Always have been. Always will be.”

“We ‘needy’ folks help our own.” Jackal continued with a snarl, tossing her head towards Narcissus like a freign showing its weaponry to a rival. “So you can take your charity and all your pretty, phony words and shove ‘em up your gilded ass.”

The look of naïve gratitude on Dove’s face had shifted to one of anxiety with furrowed brows and an uncertain frown. Narcissus’ gleaming smile was long gone, too. Replacing it was a wrinkled pout twitching its way into a snarl. His jaw, set and hard, moved back as forth as those sharp fangs of his ground against each other like he was sharpening knives. But those knives would not be drawn today.

“I don’t have to listen to this,” Narcissus hissed. He beat a hasty retreat for the door, furious, his vinelike tail lashing behind him. He knew when he’d lost a fight.

“Enjoy your tea,” he spat towards Dove, who was still clinging to Jackal’s arm, before slamming the apartment door behind him with enough force to make one of their paintings fall to the floor with the tinkle of broken glass. So much for helping.

Narcissus stalked away from the shabby apartment, reeling, angry, thinking of all the ways he could enact vengeance (that he would likely never do). His thoughts were broken by light, padding steps and the tinkling of a bell coming towards him. There was Dove, coming towards him, hands clasped together, entreating.

“Mister Jonquil?” They said, words punctuated by the jingle of the bell around their neck. Narcissus had never heard his name spoken with such gentleness before. It was enough to make him pause. Maybe even listen.

“I think it’s wonderful that you’re trying to help Primrose at the Embassy,” Dove continued, slowly, as if picking their words carefully. “It’s a good start to… showing what a good person you can be, I’m sure. I think you maybe… maybe you just need a little more practice, and a little guidance.”

Dove took the few last steps needed to close the distance between them. Cautiously, they touched Narcissus’ fingers, like how he had done to theirs earlier, and a small smile graced their face. “If you need help, um… helping, let me know, okay? Consider it payment for delivering the tea.”

Narcissus paused, mouth twitching, trying to find the right expression, charming way to brush them off. But failing to find the right thing to say, he just nodded. Dove gave a final smile, returned his nod, and turned to head back to their apartment and a no-doubt still fuming Jackal.

Narcissus watched Dove flit away, a little half-smile pulling at a corner of his mouth enough for one gilded fang to poke through. What was that he thought about Dove earlier? Oh, yes. Narcissus loved an easy win.