[Comm] [AUDRIC] PURSUIT OF DILIGENCE: CHAPTER 6

WC: 1145

Audric had to resist, for the fourth time in about as many minutes, reaching up to scratch the uncovered portion of his head. Because if he did, he knew, he'd have to immediately change his gloves, and scrub where he'd touched, and Primrose would be so disappointed. So he caught himself as his hand drifted up again, forcing himself to bring it back down to the intricate glass distillers he was working in front of.

Such were the precautions an average succubun had to take when dealing with the volatile base components of heavenly ambrosia. Audric's face was covered in a heavy, thick set of goggles, protecting his eyes from any stray spores or powder that could drift into them in the pounding and pulverizing process. His mouth and nose were blocked by a woven mask that was not particularly breathable, but kept the ambrosia-laden steam from entering delicate membranes which were not designed to metabolize them. And his hands were covered, this time, in not one, not even two, but three layers of separate gloves, the topmost of which was taped carefully to the long sleeves of a lab coat. All of his outer layers belonged to the Heavenly Embassy, in fact, and would have to be carefully stripped from him once the ambrosia making was complete - Primrose, being able to handle the effects of the ambrosia like a succubun could alcohol, would be the one to assist him with all this, as he had when Audric had begun the whole process of putting it on.

Primrose had assured him it was better to take all these very precise precautions, and Audric, remembering vividly the warnings and drawings and gruesome details he'd had to endure about the negative effects of these plants and their elixirs on his kind, had not been inclined to argue. It was more than a little uncomfortable, though, and hot. And thus, his current struggles to keep his hands off any exposed part of his body, few enough as those were.

"Now, hold this pot steady for me, while I pour off the excess liquid from the boiled stems- Audric, are you paying attention?" Prim's voice snapped him out of the brief moment of distraction, and Audric shook himself back into focus.

"I am, I am, I promise! It was just, my nose was itching again," the succbun lamented, giving Primrose the puppy-dog eyes, wide and guileless. The other man sighed, but it quickly turned into a rueful smile, his head shaking slowly but only in mild reproach.

"Very well, I suppose…I know you are unused to this level of safety precautions. They must be rather uncomfortable," Prim said, and Audric let out a breath that nearly instantly fogged up his goggles. Still, though, he was able to take the long handle of the pot in a gloved hand, steadying it as Primrose drained the pieces of stems into a sieve. Steam billowed up around the cherubun, and Audric watched as Prim breathed it in, seeming to perk up immediately as the fragrant clouds entered his airways. He was almost envious, he realized as he saw the effects on his friend.

Still, Audric had to remind himself, Primrose would never know the exquisite tastes of a drink from Hops' menu. There were, he reflected as he put down the pot he was holding and picked up some equipment for the next step, as many similarities between them as there were differences, if you got right down to it. And he couldn't help but notice that much like the transformative concoctions Hops liked to blend up, these ambrosias could be used much the same for cherubuns…at least, he thought he remembered Primrose explaining such to him, way back when this whole journey had begun. Back then, he remembered fondly, he'd been so nervous as he first rode the elevator to the Heavenly Embassy, unsure how they'd get along, or even if they would at all. Lost in thought, he moved smoothly from the hot plates that held the separated parts of the ambrosia plants, simmering away as the heat and liquid reduced them down. The flowers in one pot, he noticed, had tinged the bubbling water nearly pink, and he raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Prim in a silent question.

The cherubun noticed the look, coming over to inspect the pot of nectar. "Hmm, yes, what is it- oh!" He lifted it from the burner quickly, taking care not to slosh any of the precious liquid, and excitedly carried it over to a nearby table covered with jars and bowls. "Thank you, Audric, a few more minutes and my special nectar would've turned into sludge! Now, come here…"

As he stepped over, Audric felt himself swell with pride at the cherubun's words, and he thought he must've seemed a few inches taller with the way his back pulled up straight. I rescued his personal pot of ambrosia nectar? He thought a bit incredulously, then smiled a little to himself, accepting the praise as he stepped up to Primrose's shoulder to watch what was next.

The next step, it turned out, was the careful transfer of the boiled liquid and hot, wet flowers to another series of distilling equipment. Audric blinked sweat out of his eyes as he used a long, thin instrument - Primrose had called it a pipette, like, well. A little pipe, he figured - to suck up exact amounts of the nectar and drip them, drop by painstaking drop, into the collection flask that would heat them again. Prim had explained that in this step, the boiled liquid would heat up again, this time more slowly and precisely, to then distill further, the clarified vapors eventually rising and dripping down into the condenser, turned again from steam back into moisture. Then, as Primrose told him, the further condensed liquids would drip into the collection vessel, and from there, be ready to add to drinks for cherubuns to imbibe. The cherubun saw him watching the distillation equipment closely, and nudged Audric's elbow with a smile, gesturing him over to a different table, where the largest mortar and pestle he'd ever seen was sitting piled high with dried leaves.

"Grab that pestle!" Primrose announced cheerily, "It's time to grind! Don't worry, we're nearly done, I promise…"

With a steadying sigh, Audric did so, bracing his hand on the wide edge of the mortar's lip. It had already been a long day, but the end was, at least, finally in sight. And it had truly been a productive one. The scrolled and fluted bottles lined up on the next table down were waiting to receive their precious elixirs, and he hurried to finish up the powdering step before the nectars finished distilling, his head abuzz with all of the directions Primrose had given him. He wouldn't soon forget them, he already knew.