[Comm] DILLIGENCE CHAPTER V

BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!  BEEP!

Trump’s fist smashed down on the alarm clock ringing out into their ears, silencing it with a well practiced blow.  The prideful bun let out a long, sleepy yawn as he stretched his arms and shook the night’s stiffness out of his tail, sitting up to rub at his eyes and look at the blinking light on the clock.

Four in the morning.  But perhaps it’d be the last time they needed to wake up at such a miserable hour.

He prodded Bev on the other side of the bed, as the other succubun had merely huffed and pulled the pillow over his head before going back to sleep.  The sound of the alarm did not do much to deter the lustful bun, it was early and he was comfortable and he wanted to rest more.

“Trumpyyyyyy.”  Came the whine from beneath the pillow.  “Make me a coffee, will you?  It’s too early to be up.”

Indeed, the last time they had been awoken this early was to gather dew from the Heavenly Embassy, but today was different in the sense that Primrose had given them forewarning this time.  A quick phone call in the evening, while the duo were out at Burrowgatory’s many bars, challenging each other to drinking competitions and gambling at Wonderland… Bev had told him he needed to loosen up and it had seemed a decent day to do so.  For once he had indulged and then… Primrose’s call had come right in the middle of it all and disturbed the night for both of them.

“I need you.”  The saintly cherubun had snapped on the other end of the line the moment Trump picked up the phone.  He thanked the stars that Bev was not the one to hear that statement and tone.

“Is it the garden again?”  Trump asked blithely, expression unchanging as he strolled out of the club to hear better.

“Indeed it is!”  Primrose replied, relief in his voice that the succubun on the other end of the line seemed to understand his intentions.  “Look, you remember those flowers you’ve been tending? They’re set to bloom any day now, they’re ripe and ready to pop!  I would like you and Bev to be there for their fruition, to see the climax of all of your hard work!  The two of you have done a most impressive job on everything to date and so I’m inviting… nay, demanding!  You come tomorrow to help us harvest the blooms for the next step in processing.”

Trump nodded tiredly before realizing the cherubun couldn’t actually see him.  “Processing, got it.  When do you need us there?  Usual time?”

“Oh heavens no!  Earlier, earlier!”  Primrose’s tone was somewhere between barely contained excitement and his usual dignified manner; he must have been really eager to show off those ambrosia blooms!  “I need you at the greenhouse by four at the latest!  You simply must be there to witness the flowers opening up, I promise you it’ll be quite the sight!  Oh but afterwards, we’ll have to go over orientation and harvesting expectations and-”

“Hold on.”  The succubun frowned.  “Orientation?  We can’t just come over, pick the flowers and be done with it?”

“Goodness, how barbaric!”  Primrose sounded aghast on the other end of the line.  “No, you need to understand that each part of the ambrosia bloom serves a purpose!  They need to be handled with care, each little petal and leaf is imperative for…” he paused and Trump could practically hear him frowning on the other end of the line.  “The point is!  I’m getting ahead of myself and you’ll understand everything at orientation tomorrow.  I need you there.  Four in the morning.  Do not be late or you’ll hold the group up.”

Trump blinked.  “Wait what group-”

Click!  Primrose had already hung up on the other end of the line, leaving the answer a surprise for the next day.

And now here it was… Four in the morning as Bev sat at their kitchen table and sleepily spooned cereal in his mouth, taking big gulps from a mug of black coffee and sugar that Trump had brewed especially for his moody ass.

“Why do Cherubuns always wake up so early?”  Bev whined, finishing his breakfast as the other succubun took a shot of whiskey and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.  “Are they all so uptight and prissy as that Primrose that they don’t for a second think to relax and chill out a little?  I hate getting up at this hour, it’s not even bright yet!”

Trump stared forward down the path as the duo shuffled out of their home and made their way to the Embassy in the weak morning light.  Bev’s complaining as they headed up the stairs and into the opulent hall was business as usual at this point; he didn’t care to acknowledge or argue.

Surprisingly - or maybe not so much given prior mentions of orientation - there were a group of sleepy looking succubuns gathered at reception.  Primrose stood before them all, counting heads and nodding pleasantly as Bev and Trump joined the ranks.

“Right!”  He clapped his hooves together, ushering the buns into a side room that appeared to be some sort of classroom.  “I do appreciate all you early risers for showing up on time!  If you could please take your seats I’ll begin the explanation…”

What followed was a lengthy lecture on the properties of ambrosia and how each part of the flower was useful in different areas of medicine, nourishment, sustenance and catharsis.  Trump was only half listening as Primrose rattled on, clearly delighting in his explanation to the group despite their various levels of attentiveness.  Bev had fallen asleep resting his head on his arms, there was a gentle snoring coming from somewhere at the back of the class, and scattered throughout were buns idly glancing at the clock or their phones.  The cherubun did not appear to notice, or if he did he wasn’t aggressively clearing his throat or harrumphing like he usually did.

“... And this!”  Primrose banged a hoof on the chalkboard behind him, startling the succubuns into attention.  “Is where we are today!”  He gestured to the board, where he’d drawn a diagram of an ambrosia flower, each part of it separated out into individual pieces.  “You’ll all be attending to your own flowerbeds, working on the flowers you’ve grown with one of our cherubuns to assist you to make sure nothing, and I mean nothing, is wasted.”  He smiled pleasantly, a threat behind his eyes.  “You’ll be given baskets of course, and you’ll be expected to sort everything perfectly…  Consider it an orientation test!  You’ll have no problems if you were paying attention, of course… you simply must understand how important these plants are to us, so the embassy will be sending a bill to your address should even a single petal turn up ruined.”

Ignoring the discontent muttering among the buns, he gestured to the door.  “Now off you go to your greenhouses!  The ambrosia won’t pick itself!”  They left the classroom and were led out to the gardens, pairs and groups splitting off to their respective greenhouses to begin the task at hand.  A cherubun had just finished watering their blooms when Bev and Trump arrived, smiling excitedly as they pushed the door open and made their way in.

“Oh you’re just in time!”  They smiled.  “Watch!”

Before the duo’s eyes, the plants were gently waving to and fro, fat ambrosia buds swelling and trembling with their fresh feast of dew.  Like a bursting seed pod, one flower popped open with a gentle chime, spreading luminescent petals wide as a beautiful heavenly scent filled the air.  Slowly and softly, the others began to follow suit as they drank fresh water into their roots, fruiting and flowering in a symphony of dazzling light and scent and soothing sounds.

It seemed to last an eternity.  Time slowed to a crawl as both succubuns stood and took in the flowering blooms with all their senses, it was like Hazebloom but without the drug-like effects!  Just fresh and charming, beautiful and bright.  It almost made the work they’d done feel worth it, just to experience the garden bed blooming before them.  Almost.

As the flowered ambrosia blooms waved cheerily back and forth in full flourish, Bev looked over at Trump with a dreamy sigh.

“That was incredible…” he muttered softly, shaking the distant look from his eyes.  “But welp!  Time to cut these suckers down!”

The prideful bun had to agree.  It was almost worth it to watch the ambrosia bloom, maybe a once in a lifetime event but… there was still work to be done, and a whole class lesson he had to keep in mind over it!

Their cherubun assistant was off in a corner of the greenhouse tending to new seedlings, leaving Bev and Trump to pick the bed of ambrosia flowers.  One by one, with less than careful hands on Bev’s part, they uprooted each flower and brushed off the dirt, laying them out in baskets separated by color just as Primrose had dictated.

After a few hours of careful tending, both buns were beginning to feel aches in their backs, little grunts and groans escaping one or the other as their muscles cramped and bones creaked.

“When did we plant so many???”  Bev whined, standing up to stretch.  “I’m not used to this kind of work!”

Trump sighed, following suit.  “We’re nearly done.”  He muttered.  “It’ll be over soon and then all we’ll need to do is cut and sort the plants…”  He reached for another plant and carefully pried it out of the flowerbed, his unaccustomed body protesting as he bent down again.

“Uh Trumpy?  Someone’s.  Already done it.”  Bev blinked, flowers in his paws as he stood by the sorting baskets.  A pair of scissors rested beside the spread of baskets, each filled with meticulously cut and trimmed blossoms.

Trump scratched his ear, coming over to examine things.  “They… all look as though they’re in order too.  Who touched our plants?”

They looked at one another, then over at the cherubun who was supposed to be monitoring them.  The other bun was busy shooing what looked like a four-armed little creature out of the door.  In place of a head it had a softly glowing halo so that meant it could only have been…

“Diligentia…” Trump muttered as Bev peeked over the organized baskets.

“Wow!”  the lustful bun whistled appreciatively.  “To think our work has pretty much been halved thanks to that one virtue… do you think it likes us, Trumpy?  Do you think we’ll be able to take it home??”

Trump watched the now extracted virtue float around the greenhouse exterior, pressing its little halo-esque face up to the glass window opposite them.  He gave it a little wave, an unconscious smile crossing his face as it waved in response before skittering off.

“I… think it might.”  He chuckled.  “We owe it today for making our workload easier.  I didn’t take any notes during Prim’s class, did you?  But now we can just follow the work that Diligentia started and we won’t have to pay any… cherubun bills.”

The duo returned to work at a much more leisurely pace, the hours ticking by as they picked the last of the ambrosia, turning the earth for any traces of torn roots.  They sat by the array of baskets, carefully plucking flowers and petals, sorting the last armful of blooms by color and stem, leaf and root shape.  It was midday by the time they had finished, and both buns were beginning to feel sticky and uncomfortable in the humidity of the greenhouse.

“Spray me with the hose…” Bev groaned, lying on the grass as their cherubun assistant came over to inspect their work.  The saintly bun seemed very confused by the request but obliged him anyway, misting Bev’s fur with a refreshing blast of cool water.

“Um ok.  Your request aside, it seems you’ve done a marvelous job of preparing these plants!  Goodness, we expected some mishaps here and there in each group but… you must have really been paying attention in the lecture because this setup is immaculate!”  The cherubun smiled at them.  “You’re welcome to leave now, I’m sure Primrose will be very happy with this!”

Bev shook the dewy droplets of water from his fur and hopped to his feet, all smiles despite his freshly wet look.  Trump rubbed at a patch of dirt on his own cheek, making a face.

“I could use a shower.”  he muttered as the two of them made their way down the embassy steps.  “Or a bath.  We must have been the first group to finish given that the greenhouses sure looked busy on the way out.  I wonder if-”

His thoughts were cut short at the sight of a small, glowing virtue waiting for them at the foot of the embassy stairs.  He nudged Bev hard and pointed at it, the two of them freezing as though trying not to scare it.

“Do you think it’s the same one from earlier?”  Bev asked in a hushed whisper.

Trump wasn’t sure but he gave the creature a little wave, surprised when it tittered and waved back at them.  The Diligentia floated towards them with graceful ease, doing a little twirl before presenting them with a flower.

It wasn’t ambrosia.  But it did have a look of something that had been picked from the Embassy’s gardens.  Hopefully the cherubuns wouldn’t miss it?

“Uh.  Thank you.”  Trump muttered, taking the flower from the virtue’s hand.  It made a noise that could only be described as a gleeful giggle before zooming up the steps past them and back into the Embassy’s walls.

He looked down at the bloom in his paw, head cocked to one side.  “We… have been working hard, huh?”  He muttered, twirling it around.  “I think it actually likes us.”

“Yeah… but who cares about that!”  Bev replied excitedly, making a grab for the bloom.  “Are Cherubun flowers worth anything on the market?  Do you think it tastes good?  Let me have a taste!”

Bickering back and forth between one another, the two succubuns headed down the Burrowgatory main streets, with secret feelings of pride and accomplishment accompanying the pain of their aching muscles and a hard day’s work.