[Comm] DILLIGENCE CHAPTER VI

It was a wonderfully lazy morning in Bev and Trump’s apartment.

For the first time in what felt like months Trump was able to wake up warm and comfortable and rested.  He stretched his claws and slid out of bed, taking his time to fluff and preen his fur before digging through a pile of clothes lumped in a corner of the room for a comfortably fluffy bathrobe.  It only had a little toothpaste residue and a few wine stains on it, it was still good to wear!

He found himself humming tunelessly as he prepared himself a dry bowl of cereal (the stacked milk cartons in the fridge were all empty…), sitting at the table to eat with one hand while he tapped away at Carrot Clicker on his phone with the other.  No more gardening!  No more early mornings!  The clock on the wall said that it was nearly midday and for once he felt truly relaxed!  Crunching loudly, Trump heaved a contented sigh, his muscles relaxed and ready for his first comfortable day at home in a long time.

But suddenly Bev was sitting across from him at the table, all smiles as he peered at the prideful bun with large, hopeful eyes.  Trump’s expression immediately creased into a wary frown.

“Trumpyyyyyyyy.”  Bev wheedled, reaching for the other bun’s cereal bowl to push it out of the way.  “You should take me out for breakfast.  Buy me pancakes.”  He pouted.

Trump shook his head.  “You can buy your own pancakes.  In fact, you should buy me pancakes.  I still haven’t forgiven you for making me pay for your coffee the other week.”  He scowled, making a mental note to leave his wallet at home.  If only he could remember where he left it…

“Okay!”  Bev replied simply, hopping off the chair.

“Okay?”  Trump blinked.  “J… just like that?”  He hadn’t expected the other succubun to agree to take him out to breakfast so readily.

“Yeah.”  Bev fluttered his eyelashes innocently.  “C’mon, let’s go!  If we get there before two o’clock we’ll be able to claim a discount…”

And so the two succubuns found themselves out in the warm crystal-lit roads of midday Burrowgatory, the footpath warm beneath their hooves as they headed towards their next meal.  Trump was still suspicious of how agreeable the other bun was being, but he couldn’t say no to a freebie… it was nice to feel the sun on his fur for once without the accompanying humidity of the greenhouses, though he had a vague feeling he was forgetting something important…

It didn’t matter.  The cherubun-owned all day breakfast venue was ready and waiting for them just across the road, and Trump’s mind was filled with delicious thoughts of fluffy pancakes with maple butter and berry compote.

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN???”

The distraught but well articulated voice that sounded behind them was all too familiar, even as the shock of Primrose’s loud exclamation made both succubuns’ fur stand on end.  Bev looked at Trump in alarm as clacking hoofsteps began to descend the Embassy stairs just behind them.

“Did we…?” He asked worriedly.

“Did we…???”  A cold sweat was breaking out on Trump’s brow as he stared wide eyed at the other succubun.

But then Primrose was grabbing their shoulders to spin them around so that he could stare at them in complete and utter distress.  The cherubun’s pristine coat was a fluffy, rumpled mess… it was clear he’d been wringing his hands and running his hooves through his hair, but what was up with his panicked expression?

“You never turned up for brewing!”  He gasped.  “I called and called your phone but nobody answered!  I sent an email!  Did… did neither of you receive anything?!”

Trump scratched his ear.  “I… had my notifications muted so I could play carrot clicker all night last night.” he admitted sheepishly.

“And I stepped on mine in the shower!” Bev added.

Primrose stared at the two of them, gobsmacked.  “I…”  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly to steady himself.  “I suppose there’s no other way then.  I would hate to… fail you for your inattendance to the course when you’ve done so good up until… well, now.  No, I see what must be done.  Very well!  Come with me, you two.”

Before either succubun could protest, the saintly cherubun had spun them both around, steering them back to the embassy building and marching them up the stairs like a teacher with two petulant children.

“H-hang on now!”  Bev protested as they were walked down a corridor and around the corner of another.  “We haven’t even had breakfast!  You’re gonna make us do more cherubun shit on an empty stomach?”

Primrose wrinkled his nose at the comment but seemed in too much general distress to really press it.  “I will reward you with something better than breakfast once I’ve finished in the lab with you.  Loathe as I am to admit, some of the workers at the embassy do not understand how the toxicity of your alcohol affects us.  I’ve confiscated a good 5 or so bottles of hooch from their cubicles.  And it’s all yours”  He frowned.  “But the two of you owe me.”

Trump’s eyebrows shot up at that.  Five whole bottles of quality booze?  He was too surprised by such a generous offer to respond, and let himself continue to be walked down another hall to a gilded arched door, where Prim fished a winged key out from somewhere on his person and began to turn it in the lock.

“I do not let any of the other… initiates tend to this kind of work normally, but… well.  We were short staffed today as half of the class did not turn up to brew the mundane forms of ambrosia, and I was distracted helping those who remained keep up and not spoil all the season’s hard work.”  He explained huffily.  “Every day I feel like we lose more hardworking cherubuns to those vices of yours.  I haven’t been able to brew any of the transformative elixir and I have a quota I need to meet by the end of today.  The two of you can make up for missing your final task by assisting me in brewing my next batch of ambrosia.  Are we clear?”

Bev and Trump looked at each other, plans already in motion for a two bun drinking party in their minds.  “Yes sir!”

“Excellent.”  Primrose pushed the door open and ushered them inside, letting it snap shut neatly behind them.

The three found themselves standing in a beautiful conservatory-like space, the ceiling sporting an ornate glass sunroof that let the full intensity of the daylight shine in. The room itself was filled with an array of tables covered in cookware, glass, and scientific looking equipment, there were stoves in one corner and burners in another.  Along the back wall were jars and baskets, all lined up neatly and in their perfect place, each labelled with the parts and species of ambrosia flowers that they belonged to.  The room smelled wonderfully fragrant and sweetly floral.

Primrose let the two succubuns stare at his workshop with open mouths, heedless of their stupefied expressions as he went to the far wall and began sorting various ingredients into ornate little trays.

“I’ll let you two take care of the base formula, mm?  It’s written on the whiteboard over there.”  he gestured behind him to a board on wheels that rested near the stoves.  “It’s all about timing, surely the two of you can manage that?  Very straightforward stuff, as easy as boiling water!”  He shuffled back across the room, little rainbows from the skylight winking off his dazzling fur as he set out the trays along a benchtop.

“Now look here, I’ve laid them out in order for you!”  Just pour each ingredient in, one at a time into that… that…”  Primrose frowned, ducking into a cupboard a moment later to pull out a big pot and bang it on one of the cooking elements.  “In here!  I’ll be over there tending to the more… delicate part of the operation.”  He pointed towards a glass cabinet filled with many different colored nectars.  “I must simply ask that you do not bother me while I work if you can help it… distilling and balancing the nectars is a delicate process after all!”

Trump looked at the lengthy list of instructions for their ‘base solution’ on the whiteboard.  It seemed… straightforward enough.  Bring water to a boil and then add each type of ingredient… he assumed they were all different types of ambrosia flowers given the circumstances, though he found the combination of Prim’s elegant looping handwriting and the strange long names of each plant to be difficult to follow and read.

There were a set of ten steps for the recipe though.  Prim had already left them to it, off mixing nectar and humming to himself across the room, so looking at Bev with a shrug, the two turned to the pot and began their work.

The first step was to boil water.  Easy!  They filled the big pot with heavenly dew from a nearby quartet of barrels, Trump flicking on the stove as Bev read through the next steps in advance.

“It all seems a bit… fussy, don’t you think?” he mumbled, looking over the carefully laid out trays and wrinkling his nose.  “Put this in until it turns this color.  Then add that until it smells like this.  Rinse, repeat.  What if we just speed up the process, what could go wrong?”

Before the prideful bun could protest, Bev had scooped up the trays and began tipping their contents into the pot one by one.

“Bev, the instructions!”  Trump gasped.

“We’ll just tell Primrose we got it done faster.”  the other succubun shrugged.  “Are you seriously telling me that the potion will change depending on when and how these leaves are sprinkled in?  Yeah right.”  He yipped sharply as Trump bopped him on the head with the spoon he’d been using to stir the pot.  Trays of seeds and leaves and roots clattered to the ground.

Both succubuns froze, looking across the room at Primrose, but thankfully the cherubun seemed so absorbed in his work he hadn’t noticed.  Behind them the pot was coming to a rolling boil and the smell wafting up from it was… somewhat earthy and unpleasant despite the dried and fragrant ingredients.

Trump pointed the spoon threateningly at Bev as the lustful bun grimaced at the smell.  The water looked… blackish.  That couldn’t be good news.

“Pick those ingredients up.”  he growled, pointing at the scattered flowers.  “A-and rearrange them as best you can.  We can’t have messed this up already, don’t you see how much is at stake here?”

“Relaaax Trumpy!”  Bev rolled his eyes.  “It’s probably meant to do that!”

“No way.”  Trump shook his head.  “Remember the bills Primrose threatened us with if we ruined the flowers?!  These are cured and processed, they’re probably worth a whole lot more!  Prim’ll take our house!!!”

At the thought of his blunder costing them their assets and livelihood, Bev suddenly paled and frowned.  “I… forgot about that.”  He gulped.  “Trumpy you have to fix this.”

The prideful bun pointed aggressively towards the spilled ingredients once more, his expression stern and focused as he turned back to the boiling pot.  Feeling sweat prickling his brow, he looked at what they had left, then back towards the whiteboard, hoping for some sort of clue.

Bev had poured in a good three tray’s worth of ingredients, but at least he was skittering around on all fours gathering up the rest.  Hopefully some remnants remained that the duo could add to the formula to balance some of the concoction out….

The next ingredient called for some sort of root to be powdered and sprinkled in with liberal handfuls until it appeared to have dissolved.  Well… there were two roots left in the trays.  One of them had to be the right one but… which?

It was then that he felt a little tap on his hoof.

“Not now Bev.”  He growled, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

Someone began pulling the angora fur of his leg.  Looking down with a snarl, his expression lifted instantly when he found the haloed face of Diligentia looking back at him.  The virtue held up a white, powdery root, tittering softly.

“Is this… the correct ingredient?”  he asked, taking it carefully from them.  “Do you know how to make the base for this ambrosia?”  He could have whooped with relief as the virtue nodded, but he did not want to alert Primrose to someone else in the room that should not have been there.  Or scare the small creature, for that matter.

With Diligentia’s help Trump carefully worked his way down the ingredient list, making adjustments when the virtue pointed to specific ambrosias he didn’t know the names of, going off its guidance and intuition.  Bev, feeling very sheepish at the amount of money he’d almost cost them, perched quietly aside, sipping a cup of cherubun dew like he’d never tasted fresher, purer water in his life.

They had just put the final handful of little dusty seeds into the pot, creating a fragrant concoction that reminded the succubun of spiced wine and cinnamon apples, when Primrose returned.  He seemed to ignore Diligentia as he took a hearty sniff of the pot’s contents and sighed happily.

“It seems as though you’ve managed.  Well done!”  He said cheerfully as he poured sweet scented ambrosia nectars into the pot.  “Go sit over there with your erm.. boyfriend.  I’ll handle the rest from here.”  Shooing the virtue away from the counter, he got down to work, measuring in exact droplets, scattering in more plants and ingredients, until the bubbling pot smelled like a warm fall memory.  It was very clear what this batch of ambrosia was meant to be.

Both succubuns were delighted when the cherubun presented them with an armful of bottles, featuring labels that suggested they were full of Wonderland’s best liquor.  “And here you go! Don’t drink it all at once, now.”

When they left the embassy for the final time that day, it was with bottles of alcohol filling their paws and Diligentia riding on Trump’s shoulder.  All that hard work for the rewards Bev had promised, and more! A cupboard full of drink, and a servant to tend to their home and needs!  Both buns agreed that despite everything, things couldn’t have gone better!

What an adventure the pursuit of diligence had been.