Dungeon Item Shop

Fresh sighs, leaning back in relief as they finally close up for the day. Her back slides down the closed door and she lands on the very sandy floor. The little incline did little to stop the dragging in of what she feels like is a sizable chunk of the beach.

“What a day,” she says, feeling very tired, but satisfied. They haven’t had a real ‘store day’ together in a while. She’s just sad that Basil missed their first day here.

“Yeah,” says Jubilee, already starting on the ledger. “We made good money today. Talk about foot-traffic.”

“I don’t think the dungeon is so popular here,” remarks Fresh. “Everybody just wants to fight crabs.”

“That’s all there is to do,” says Jubilee. “Until you’re strong enough to get further in the dungeon, you’re stuck killing crabs here. Hundreds and thousands of crabs.” There’s a loud scratching as Jubilee’s pen slides over the pages. “Get up, we have a lot of work to finish.”

“Okaaay~” sighs Fresh, getting up onto her feet and grabbing her ‘fucking, stupid-ass, soggy broom’, as Jubilee had titled it, and begins sweeping up all of the sand. “Good work today, Jubilee, Shamrock,” she says to the two of them.

For the next hour, the three of them take care of the downstairs. Recrafting, restocking and reshelving everything. According to Jubilee’s numbers, they made a very strong profit today, especially for their very first day in this city.

“So what are we gonna do with the money?” asks Fresh, tapping her chin with a damp, sandy finger.

Jubilee slams the ledger shut. “Save it until we need it to inevitably bail us out of a disaster that you created?”

Fresh sighs. “I’d really like it if you guys created a disaster too for a change,” she says, sounding defeated, her shoulders and head drooping.

Jubilee pats her once on the side while walking by. “In a sense, we’re all at fault for allowing you to run free like a lunatic.”

“Thanks, Jubilee,” says Fresh, glad to have some support. Remembering her promise to herself to make dinner tonight, she checks that the door is locked and then heads up the stairs behind her friends, who are walking ahead of her. Shamrock is in front of her, so she can only go as fast as he is and the man seems to be making a point out of walking extra slowly just to tease her.

“Shamroooock~” she complains, putting her hands against his back and trying to push him up faster to little avail.

“Yes?”

“Go faster!” laughs Fresh, straining herself to move him.

“Okay,” says Shamrock and slowly sets his foot down onto the next step; Faster than before, but still mockingly slow. At this rate, it’ll take them ten minutes to just get up the stairs. She purses her lips, realizing she needs to come up with a better strategy.

“I’ll make us dinner, if you let me pass!” she offers. He doesn’t know that she was going to do that anyways.

Shamrock considers for a moment, slowly taking another step. Jubilee is already long since gone. “Something sweet?” he asks, turning his helmet around.

Fresh frowns, still trying to push against him. “You had sweet stuff all day,” she reprimands, needing to take Basil’s place now, in her absence. “We should have something healthy and nourishing,” explains Fresh. Shamrock really has a severe sweet-tooth. It’s even worse than her own.

Shamrock seems to be considering the idea. But also seems to be leaning towards a negative response, judging by his posture. Fresh realizes she needs to play a heavier hand. “Basil is going to wake up soon, so we need to make her something healthy,” she explains. “Will you help me? Pleeeease~?” asks Fresh, making a pair of big eyes. His defenses break, she sees it in his shadowy gaze.

“Okay,” agrees Shamrock, now moving up the stairs.

Fresh does her best not to cackle and give away her game. Not only did she achieve her goal of trying to get her friends to eat something healthy, but now she’s even recruited a helper ‘for free’. Sure, her original intent was to make the dinner for his sake, but she had to convince him without sounding like she was pitying him because his items weren’t so popular.

Manipulative? Maybe. But the end result is that the two of them spend time together in the kitchen, making a few herb-baked fish and a large salad with a little coconut in it together. It’s a lot of fun and the food looks and smells great. On the side, she ‘secretly’ sets to work, making some dessert.

A witch’s deviousness truly knows no bounds.

A little while later, shortly before the food is finished, Basil seems to stir. Running out of soul-points must really be a draining experience, realizes Fresh, as she looks at the priestess who is finally starting to toss and turn in her rest again. “Should we eat inside today?” asks Fresh, grabbing some plates to set the table. “It’s a little windy outside.”

“Sure, whatever,” replies Jubilee, who isn’t going to eat with them directly at the table anyways.

By the time they finish setting the table, Basil seems to have woken up. Rather than greeting them, the first thing the priestess does is jump to her feet and make her way down to the washroom, which is understandable. A few minutes later, the zombie that is Basil shuffles its way back upstairs and makes a beeline towards Fresh, who is sure she is about to get eaten.

“There’s fish there! Spare me!” she cries, pointing at the table as a pair of arms grab her from the front.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” says Basil, holding her head down against her shoulder.

Fresh blinks, relieved that Basil didn’t really turn into a zombie and returns the hug back. “I’m fine, Basil. I just exploded.”

“That’s not normal.”

“Yeah, sorry,” laughs Fresh, taking a step back to get some drinks for dinner. Basil continues to hold her though and so the two of them make an awkward shuffle to the kitchen and then back towards the table like that.

“You people make me sick,” says Jubilee, their elbow on the table, shaking their head which rests in their palm.

“Did you use your soul-points up again too, Jubilee?” asks Fresh, looking over to them. Jubilee sighs.

After that, Fresh manages to unclamp Basil from herself, sitting the groggy priestess down onto her chair. Shamrock carries over their dinner, fresh from the stove and the four of them have what Fresh would consider the start of a very nice evening. They talk about their day with Basil, explaining how well they did with the store and how they ran into Tarja again. Basil doesn’t have much counter-conversation to offer. Only explaining the foggy memory of an odd dream that she had. Something about a sun-rising over an black ocean. Fresh quietly sips her tea, listening as Basil explains how something like this is a very symbolic thing for people of the cloth.

“Are you even really still a priestess?” asks Jubilee. “Aren’t you just kind of pretending at this point?”

Basil lifts her nose. “I’ll have you know I take my oaths and beliefs very seriously,” she says, eating another bite of salad. Jubilee lifts their arms, gesturing with both of them towards Fresh, who is sitting there, her mouth full. Basil follows Jubilee’s gesture with her eyes, staring at Fresh for a while before looking back down towards her plate. “It’s complicated.”

“I bet,” says Jubilee, nodding towards Shamrock. “The thing he worships made us dinner. What have yours done lately?”

“Can we not?” asks Basil, stirring the food on her plate with her fork.

Fresh looks around, realizing that the atmosphere of their nice dinner has basically been shattered now. Quietly, she gets up, swallowing her food and walks to the kitchen and pulls open the oven.

“Who wants dessert?!” she asks excitedly, coming back with a piping-hot, coconut cup-cakes that she holds out alluringly towards her friends.

Shamrock raises his hand right away, not having touched his fish. Jubilee and Basil don’t seem to take the bait, however, both of them are sitting back with crossed arms. Fresh narrows her eyes, setting the tray down. Carefully, she grabs the cupcakes and begins setting them out.

“No, thank you,” says Basil.

“As the party-leader, I say you have to eat.”

“Pass,” says Jubilee.

“You can’t pass!” argues Fresh. “I worked really hard on them!”

Basil relents, taking hers and Jubilee sighs, setting theirs to the side to eat with their portion later in privacy. Fresh smiles, relieved. Another crisis averted.

Razmatazz

-) It's like one of those awkward Thanksgiving dinners when your family starts arguing about politics at the table

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