Dungeon Item Shop

“Are you sure that this is gonna work?” asks Jubilee, looking around nervously to make sure that nobody is watching them. Surprisingly, no doors are opened along the street, no windows are lit up and no faces peek out of any shadowy glass-panes. Despite the noise, everyone here is either fast asleep or simply doesn’t care in the least. Fresh appreciates that a lot right now, ironically enough. The two of them stand at the end of the tunnel, next to the crystal clear stream of water that runs out from the dungeon-gate.

“It has to!” whispers Fresh loudly, as she holds the bottle of freshly made moonwater up into the air to take a closer look at it. Dew pearls off of the sides of the quickly made glass flask in her hand, shimmering with a strange hue as a mixture of moonlight of the full moon and the pastel wash of the crystal’s glow combines inside of the droplets.

“Do we gotta make them drink it?” asks Jubilee. “Basil we could get. We could pin her down. She’d probably be into it.”

“Jubilee!” hisses Fresh.

Jubilee ignores her and goes on. “Shamrock though? Not a fucking chance, he’ll body the both of us before we get near his mouth.” Jubilee thinks, rubbing the chin of their mask. “If we can even get his damned helmet off. I’m starting to wonder if it isn’t just melted on?”

Fresh shakes her head. “I think we just have to splash them. Maybe on their skin?”

“Great idea. Oooor -” starts Jubilee, lifting a finger as they are about to make a suggestion. “We could just k -”

“We’re not going to kill our friends!” hisses Fresh, leaning in close to Jubilee so that they can hear the venom in her voice. “What if the ghost goes with them when they come back?”

“Hmm…”

“Jubileeeee~!” cries Fresh quietly. “Why is there even a ghost here to begin with?! I told you! I told you there were gho -”

“Shut up,” says Jubilee, interrupting her this time. “We got the place half-off, okay? We should be thanking the damned thing,” says Jubilee, grabbing the moonwater from her and holding it, along with another few bottles that they made.

“That’s so heartless!” protests Fresh. “Poor Basil! Poor Shamrock!”

Jubilee walks away, heading back towards the house. “’Poor Basil’ and ‘poor Shamrock’ tried to kill us both in our sleep, so maybe don’t go so easy on them.”

“It’s not their fault!”

“The dumb-asses shouldn’t have let themselves get possessed.” Jubilee looks back at her, shrugging. “I say the two of them had a good run, you know? Easy come, easy go,” says Jubilee. “We’ll just axe them off and run the store ourselves. It’ll be fine! Three problems less!”

“Ju-bi-leeee!” scolds Fresh, nearly horrified as she clenches her fists.

Jubilee waves her off. “It’s just a joke, goo-brain.” Jubilee stops, thinking for a second. “Well… it is for Shamrock, maybe. But the ghost can keep Basil if he wants -”

“No!” says Fresh as they approach the house. “As party-leader, I say that we aren’t going to murder each other!”

Jubilee sighs as they stand before the broken windows, the two of them peeking inside. They hand her some of the flasks. “Fine. This should be easy enough,” suggests Jubilee, lifting a hand with some dirt pinched in their fingertips. “We go in, we splash Basil. We pull her out. We go in, we splash Shamrock. Easy. We’ll be done in time for you to make me breakfast, to make up for all the garbage you put me through every day.”

“I had nothing to do with this,” pouts Fresh, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, yeah. See anything?”

Fresh gazes into the dark window. “No, I don’t think they’re down here.”

“Great.” Jubilee snaps their fingers and a spire of glass shoots out instantly from the stones below as the dirt trickles down out of their hand. The door caves in and as it flies, Fresh realizes that she hopes that neither of her two other friends are behind it. It crashes down on the other side, inside of the downstairs room with a loud thudding.

The glass spire shatters just a second later, before the door even finishes rattling, but Fresh is sure that she didn’t look at it this time. That means…

“Jubilee! Wait!” cries Fresh as Jubilee steps inside the house. Basil slides along the floor, having been wedged down beneath the window where she couldn’t be seen and wraps her arms around Jubilee’s legs.

“Get out,” says the priestess, entirely emotionlessly.

“AGH! FUCK!” Jubilee slides along the ground as the ghost pulls Basil, who pulls on Jubilee, back towards the back of the room, towards the basement door. Jubilee grabs hold of the door-frame, holding on tight. “SPLASH HER!” yells Jubilee and Fresh snaps out of it, fumbling with the bottles on her waist and swinging one out more haphazardly than she would have liked. She hopes Basil’s mouth is closed.

Jubilee’s grip fails as they’re pulled back across the room. Fresh yelps and runs after her friend, grabbing another bottle from her waist. “Get off of me, you spooky fuck!” yells Jubilee as Basil climbs on top of them, their hands clenching together as she tries to reach Jubilee’s throat, who holds her wrists to keep her off. All the while the two of them slide further and further towards the basement. Fresh swings out her hands, flinging the second bottle out as hard as she can. The wet glass, despite being matted and rough, slips from her fingers and there is a loud shattering as the bottle of moonwater breaks against the back of Basil’s head.

‘FRESH’ HIT ‘BASIL’ FOR {4} PHYSICAL DAMAGE!

Fresh gasps. Basil’s body falls limp and she falls down forward “Ah! I’m sorry, Basil!” says Fresh, running over to her two friends. “Are you okay?”

Basil doesn’t respond with more than a mutter as she lays there motionless. Jubilee kicks, trying to pull themselves free from beneath the woman. “Fuck’s sake, get the fuck off of me, you shit-head!” Fresh grabs Jubilee, pulling them out from beneath the priestess. The two of them take a deep breath, as they stare down at their handiwork.

“Where’s Shamrock?” asks Fresh nervously.

“Get out,” mutters Basil as if half-asleep.

“Shut the fuck up!” barks Jubilee, lifting a leg to kick her. They freeze, taking a deep breath and then lower their boot back down to the ground a second later. “Come on. I’ll bet you anything he’s in the basement.”

“Why?” asks Fresh, looking around nervously as she tries to peer up the stairs.

“Because it’s a ghost, slime-brain. Of course it’s going to be in the creepiest fucking place.”

“Ah, what about Basil?” asks Fresh.

“She’ll be fine,” says Jubilee, waving her off. “Ghosts can’t possess someone more than once,” they explain, grabbing the door handle to the basement. “I mean, maybe someone will kidnap her while we’re downstairs. But I’m willing to take that risk.”

“Stop being so horrible!” shouts Fresh, walking after Jubilee since she can’t let them go alone, but still looking back at the slumped over Basil who is bleeding a little from her head.

“I get cranky when I don’t sleep, okay?” Jubilee yanks the door open and looks. “Coast is clear. Come on,” they say, heading in without her. Fresh yelps and runs after her friend as the two of them head down the stairs to the basement. Jubilee keeps going, as Fresh opens the washroom door and peers inside.

Nothing but the usual sights, together with the trickle of water from their bath

Something laughs and Fresh’s hairs stand on end, as she thinks that it’s the fountain again, playing some cruel joke on her. But as she turns around, she sees that it’s Jubilee who stands down near the middle of the railing-less stairway and clutches their stomach as they howl.

“Jubilee?” asks Fresh, walking down the stairs to look. “AH!” cries the girl, distraught, running down the staircase and towards the fireplace as fast as she can. “Shamrock!”

She stops, looking at the legs of the giant man that jut out of the hearth, his upper body is pressed tightly inside of the chimney. He is firmly stuck.

“Oh my fuck,” laughs Jubilee, walking across the room. “Fucking ghosts, I swear. They get a little loopy with time, you know?”

“Why is he in the fireplace, Jubilee?!” asks Fresh, worried. “We have to get him out! What if he can’t breathe?!”

“Sure, sure,” says Jubilee coyly. “We could also pull down his pants?” they suggest. “Can you imagine?”

“JUBILEE!” snaps Fresh.

Jubilee sighs. “You’re no fun sometimes, you know?” They wave her off. “Loosen up a little.”

“How are we going to splash him with the water?” asks the girl.

“I just told you.”

“NO! We’re not doing that. Just…” Fresh scratches her cheek. “Just pour some into the gaps of his armor.”

“Fine! Fine!” Jubilee grabs one of her flasks, despite still having some of their own that didn’t break before. “I swear, you people would be the worst at parties.” They lift the bottle, hesitating for a brief second as they decide on a spot, before jamming the neck of the flask into Shamrock’s knee.

His legs become limp. “Come on, you grab that one. I’ll take this one. Let’s get him out.”

It takes a few tries, especially since Fresh barely manages to lift his limp, armored leg up even an inch. But eventually, the man slides loose, flopping down into the base of the hearth and blowing a large cloud of old ash out in all directions as he lands.

Fresh sighs in relief, as she sees the particulate wafting past his helmet start floating the other direction, as a heavy breath pushes it away. “Thank goodness, everyone’s alright,” says Fresh.

A second loud thud can be heard, as something heavy falls from above, striking against Shamrock’s head. A pile of old bones that lands squarely in his lap, before shattering out in all directions. The skull rolls towards her feet, stopping just before herself, as it stares up her way with two large, empty eye-sockets, as if they wanted to tell her something. Something truly important.

Jubilee grabs the skull, lifting it up into the air. “Aaah, you spooky fuck! Nice try!” They think for a second. “I guess dying in the chimney doesn’t count as dying inside of the house?” Jubilee shakes their head. “Is there truly any creature more scummy than a real-estate salesman?”

“Jubilee! Have some respect for the dead!” argues Fresh.

Jubilee rolls their eyes. “What? He started it.” They grab a flask from their belt, setting the skull down onto the ground. “Good night!” says Jubilee, jamming the neck of the open bottle into the eye-socket. Water dribbles down the sides, leaking out of its teeth.

“Ah, fuck,” mutters Jubilee, grabbing another bottle from their belt. “Hold on.” They take out a second one, pressing it into the other socket. “Good night!” they repeat. This time it works.

Fresh clutches her arms as a sudden chill fills the room, as the temperature drops to clearly below freezing, as she sees her breath leave her own face. The puff of loose vapor flies away and it wraps around the skull at their feet and begins to swirl around it. Fresh frowns, as she stares at the thing and bends over, grabbing the two bottles and pulling them free from its eye-sockets, setting them to the side as she looks at the rattling skull. The impossibly strong wind that surges around the basement blows her hair past her face. It is as if all of the air in the room were being pulled up the now unblocked chimney, having finally found a way to escape.

She sees the eyes of the skull still looking up at her as if transfixed. It knows something. But she shakes her head, putting the palm of her hand softly against its forehead as she looks at it with a warm smile on her face that contrasts the icy winds piercing her still wet clothes. “Sleep tight, okay?” says Fresh. “Don’t worry, we’ll put you somewhere nice. I promise.”

The skull opens its mouth. “Run-run-run-run-ru-”

It stops and clatters back down to the ground, falling out of her hands. The wind stops as well. The temperature rises in an instant, as if a switch had been flicked and as her hair falls back against the skin of her clammy, cool neck, she notices that the skull seems to feel somehow less ‘present’ than it had just a moment ago.

She sighs in relief, looking up at Jubilee and then at Shamrock who begins to stir.

Razmatazz

I wouldn't worry about it

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