Submission (#6222) Approved

Rocky is determined to prove he can do this.

Sure, he isn’t the most responsible and sure, maybe sometimes he forgets to feed himself but that’s not the same thing as taking care of something else, obviously. And it’s not like imps even need to eat, anyway, so that’s already one point in his favor. Rocky has priorities and being there for others is certainly one of them. But he can’t deny that he isn’t nervous about all of this. It isn’t like he’s ever successfully taken care of something before, but in Murmur’s name does he need this.

While he’s never had a particular fascination with imps, he’s been rather lonely since arriving in Burrowatory and making friends with others has proven, well -- difficult -- beyond measures of the flesh, at least.

The Imporium is intimidating as it is welcoming, and Rocky’s steps are unsure as he enters through the doors. The inside is decorated tastefully, with a grand entryway that has an expensive looking desk in the center. The desk is piled high with brightly colored folders and what looks to be multiple personal framed photos. The Succubun behind is all boyish charm and good looks, an almost nervous energy to them. Still, they welcome him with a smile almost as soon as they spot him, face bright with excitement. Whether it’s because of the job or because of a potential customer, Rocky isn’t sure yet.

“Welcome to The Imporium,” The stranger greets. “I’m Hutch. How can I help you today? Are you here to learn about imps?”

Rocky pauses, a little taken aback by the other’s enthusiasm, but he also can’t deny there isn’t something charming about them. Charming enough, at least, that he stays firmly where he is and answers, with slightly less enthusiasm.

“Yes, actually,” Rocky replies. “I was told I had to… prove myself worthy of being chosen to take care of an imp?”

Hutch nods, hands gesturing excitedly. “That’s correct. We don’t give imps out to just anyone, you know. Well, at least not anymore…not after The Incident.”

Rocky is both curious and wants to know absolutely nothing further about this, which of course means he leans forward, eyebrow cocked,

“The Incident? That sounds promising.”

“Oh, hardly,” laughs Hutch, pushing their glasses up their nose. “Anyway, enough of that. Let us see to your training, first, hmm?”

“And then we can talk more about this, uh, incident?”

Hutch’s mouth twitches like they’re fighting a smile. They clear their throat, peering at Rocky inquisitively from across the counter. “Have you ever owned an imp -- I, uh, what’s your name?”

“Rocky.”

“Rocky,” Hutch says, as if testing the name in their mouth. “Have you ever owned an imp?”

Rocky shakes his head. “No, not quite.”

Hutch smiles at him reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Rocky. That doesn’t matter too much in the end! Previous experience is a plus, but it’s not a requirement.”

He breathes an unsubtle sigh of relief at that, entire body deflating. He runs a hand through his hair, lips pulling into a relieved smile. “Cool.”

“Now, what do you know about imps?”

Rocky shrugs, ears twitching nervously at the question. Tests have never been his strong suit, after all.

“They don’t need to eat or sleep, for one and two,” Rocky replies, thoughtfully. “You can train them to do all sorts of things and despite not eating to eat, they love treats and tend to, uhh, copy us with food and stuff, right?”

Hutch nods encouragingly, clapping their hands together. “That’s correct! Looks like someone did their research.”

Rocky tries not to preen under the praise and utterly fails.

“Thank you. I pride myself on being overly prepared for almost everything,” Rocky says, matter-of-fact.

“And yet you have lust horns,” Hutch comments, drolly. Rocky snorts a laugh, before he can help himself, really. Even if it is at his expense, he can’t deny his amusement. “I think you’ve proven yourself more than worthy of our trust but I’d like to see you around them first. Maybe you can even try training them a little.”

Rocky immediately perks up, cocking his head at the other. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

Hutch leads them past the front desk without another word. The long hallway -- decorated with a tasteful coat of paint and multiple pictures of various imps (some of which are cuddling Hutch quite adorably) -- eventually leads into a big, open room with multiple play-pens set up. There are dozens of imps scattered among the pens, all of them exceptionally cute. Rocky can feel his eyes get wide with amazement and utter adoration.

“Wow,” he breathes.

Hutch grins. “Right? They’re incredible,” they say, nodding proudly. “Let us see if you can get one of them to listen to you, yeah? Have you ever given an imp dango before?”

Rocky very carefully does not mention this is the closest he’s ever been to an imp before at all, instead choosing to shake his head. “No, I can’t say I have.”

“That’s okay. There’s really nothing fancy to it. Imps love this stuff, so go ahead and pick up some and choose whichever imp you like best. Don’t worry, this stuff is black sesame flavored, so the imps will be able to digest it without changing..”

Rocky nods, even though he understood about half of what Hutch just said, and picks up some of the sticky treat. There are a few dozen imps at least, and picking one he likes the best proves to be more difficult than he thought. They’re all adorable, and he spends the next few minutes weighing the pros and cons of splitting this treat among all of them.

Eventually, he spots a Phloof by itself in the corner of one of the pens, it’s black fluffy fur puffed up as if waiting for a threat. Rocky can’t help but be drawn to the little fellow, and before he can really help himself, he’s heading over there, hoping he’s broadcasting himself as unassuming and approachable as possible.

“Hey little guy,” Rocky coos. “You’re very cute. I’m Rocky.”

Unsurprisingly, the imp doesn’t say anything, white unblinking eyes gazing at him.

Rocky sighs. This might just be a little harder than he had anticipated.

“Think you can let me pretend to train ya a little so I can pass this thing with flying colors?” Rocky tries again.

The Phloof remains unmoved.

Rocky pouts at it, a little, finally holding out a bit of dango for the creature. “If you stay right there and don’t move or make any sound, I’ll give you some of this, yeah? Stay,” he commands, empathetically.

He backs away slowly, eyes locked on the Phloof. He can feel Hutch’s eyes on him as they track his movements, but he can’t bring himself to check their expression just yet. Something tells him if he takes his eyes off of the imp, the thing might just poof out of existence entirely.

Dutifully, though, the Phloof stays where Rocky had asked it to, and he can’t help the crow of excitement he lets out at the sight. He practically skips back over to the imp, holding out the dango as promised.

“Good impy-imp,” Rocky coos. “Who’s a good little guy, huh?”

He’s just about to reach out to see if the Phloof will let him pet it, but he’s interrupted by a small round of clapping. Rocky looks over at Hutch, who looks charmed, if not holding back some laughter. Rocky is hardly bothered, though; he has a feeling Hutch’s reaction would be far different had he actually failed the test.

“I must say, that was definitely… creative, in terms of training,” Hutch replies. “But it’s clear your heart is in the right place, which is all I can ask for, really.”

Rocky grins, preening under the praise. “Does that mean I pass?”

“Definitely.”