Beasts and Feasts 2

Hutch had been… not much help to Madeira in learning about imps and their color changes.  They seemed to have some kind of weird feud going on with another imp shop that sold more ‘unique’ ones or something.

She wasn’t really going to get into the middle of that, but she did opt to head there one day before the diner’s opening.  She’d convinced Pectin to come with her for once, though her chirop wasn’t much for outdoor adventures.

The store seemed cute and cheerful, and Madeira was intrigued as she saw some of the imps through the window.  She’d seen some colored imps around, but these didn’t even look like the normal breeds of imps she recognized.

Even Pectin seemed curious as they entered, fluttering off her shoulder to examine the imp napping in the window.

“Welcome to Pedigree Pets!” declared a voice.

Madeira turned from looking at the imp to see a very attractive pink-haired bun behind the counter.  “Are you Quince?” she asked.

“I sure am,” the bun replied, beaming.  “What brings you in today?”

“Um, a mix of curiosity and wondering if I could ask you some questions about imp color changes, I guess?”

“Sure, shoot,” Quince said, leaning forward on the counter.

“Do you know why some imps seem to change instantaneously and some don’t, when they eat stuff that tends to change their colors?”

Quince frowned.  “I don’t,” she said.  “But I have my theories, I guess.  Imps form from escaped magical energies from Hell, right?  Well, my best idea is that how fast the change is depends on how strong those magical energies that formed them were in the first place.  I don’t know if that means the faster changers came from more powerful stuff or if the slower changers did, but ultimately, I reckon it doesn’t really matter to us or to them, other than for curiosity, and I’m sure not going to go ask any demons about it.”

It wasn’t much better than Hutch’s answer for her had been, although they’d been certain it was a sign of how interested the imp actually was in being a different color, which Madeira hadn’t quite bought.  “I guess that could make sense,” she said.

“What got you wondering?”

“Pectin,” Madeira said, gesturing to her chirop.  “It keeps eating mitarashi dango anytime it gets the chance, but doesn’t really change color.”

“Maybe the times are spaced too far out,” Quince suggested.  “You see my Stroodle in the window, right?”

Madeira nodded, tucking the name away for the weird almost impup-esque imp.

“My pedigree imps, like her, come from being fed lots of different types of foods,” Quince explained.  “I’ve kept pretty extensive notes on that, especially on how long individual imps take - since some go slower and some go faster.  But I’ve noticed that if I group the times closer together on ones that seem slow, the changes they experience happen closer to the average rate.  Maybe instead of just a stick of dango like the fast ones, try two or three.”

“Could be worth trying,” Madeira said.  “I’m sure you wouldn’t complain about getting to gorge yourself on dango, would you?”

Pectin chirped happily at the idea.

“They never do,” Quince laughed.  “Would you want to try some other treats, Pectin?”

The chirop gazed at her before hurriedly fluttering over - with the Stroodle in hot pursuit.

“Ahh, the magic word that brings every imp running or flying,” Quince laughed, producing some treats from the counter to give to each of them.

Madeira could see other imps stirring from where they relaxed around the shop, but one caught her attention in particular - partially because another Stroodle stopped by to sniff her hands before trotting to Quince.

“Looks like she thinks you’re interesting,” Quince said.  “You want to try giving them some treats too?  If there’s two of us doing it, we can avoid getting overrun.”  Her grin made it clear she was joking on the latter bit.

“Sure, can’t have you being trampled,” she replied, standing up and coming over.  Taking a bag from Quince, she began feeding a circle of various creatures.  “What are they all called?”

“Well, the blue ones are called Cribbits, the dessert looking ones are Stroodles, the plant-y ones are Lepidaisies, the ones with pride horns are Stellarams, and the shy little teacup one hiding in the back is my first Phantomile.”  Quince seemed very proud of her unique imps, and Madeira couldn’t blame her.

“They’re really cool,” she said, offering an extra treat to the Stroodle who seemed keen on sticking to her side.

“I certainly think so,” Quince enthused.  “I think this one likes you a lot.”

Madeira offered a hand - without treats - to the imp, who rubbed her face against it.  “Do I dare ask how much they are?”

Quince laughed.  “They’re a lot, I’ll admit it,” she said.  “But I don’t require it all at once if it isn’t doable.  We can come to an arrangement.”

Madeira took a deep breath, thinking.  Well…  There was no harm in just talking about it, she figured.  “Well, let’s talk about it, then,” she said.

“We can sit down in back,” Quince said, leading her into a kitchen she must have had installed to make her treats.

It took a bit, but eventually, Madeira left the store with a kiss to her future Stroodle’s forehead and a signed contract in her hands.  With how things at the restaurant had been going, she hoped she’d be able to have the contract paid within two months.  (And, seeing Pectin rubbing cheeks with the shy little Phantomile, she couldn’t help but wonder if she might be having to make another contract then… just for its sake…

Anything for her imp, she supposed.  Soon to be imps, plural…

It was definitely time to get to work.  The sooner she got the Stroodle paid off - and probably then the Phantomile - the sooner she’d be able to budget for all the treats the lot would probably want…  (Why was she becoming an imp hoarder…)