Dungeon Item Shop

Chapter 241: Sleep deprived

Fresh scoops another ball of ice-cream onto a cone, held by a wide-eyed dark-elf, who seems particularly mesmerized by the sweets that he’s come back to order a second portion of.

“Thanks,” he says, nodding, but never taking his eyes off of the large cone in his hands as he turns to head back to the table his group is sitting around.

Fresh blinks, looking at the window. “Wow, it’s really been a while,” she says to herself.

“That’s because you never do any work, goo-brain,” snaps Jubilee from behind her, snipping away with some scissors on a new item that they’re making.

“I do a lot of work!” argues Fresh, crossing her arms. “You’re just grumpy because you’re tired.”

Jubilee turns their head. “And whose fault is that? Besides, you’re tired too,” they counter, pointing at Fresh with their scissors as she is the middle of a yawn that she quickly tries to fight her way out of and hide. But she doesn’t manage to do so before Jubilee makes their point. So instead, she just faces the harsh truth of the matter too.

“Yeah… I’m tired…” she sighs. “Let’s go to bed early today.”

“You can go to bed whenever you want, goo-brain,” says Jubilee. “We don’t always have to go to bed at the same time.”

“We do,” argues Fresh.

“Hi,” says a voice from outside. “I’d like, uh…” The woman thinks for a second, looking at the signs on the counter. “A scoop of sweet-bean and a bottle of water, please,” she says, placing some coins onto the counter.

“Mm!” nods Fresh, starting to scoop the ice-cream. “How’s the crab-hunting going?”

“It’s a pain in the ass,” she sighs. “Some fairies are blasting every single crab in the shady part of the beach, day in, day out,” she explains, nodding her head towards Fresh’s left. “So a lot of us are stuck out here in the sun.” She sighs, taking her ice-cream. “But that’s not your problem. Thanks!” she says, turning to walk away, stopping only shortly before the edge of the patio, where the shade stops.

Fresh blinks, considering upselling the woman on an umbrella. It sounds like the ‘combat-party’ of the fairies are really going after life pretty hard. Good for them. Anyways, what were they just talking about? Oh yeah.

She turns back around to Jubilee. “Like I was saying, Jubilee. We have to go to bed at the same time. It’s a tradition.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” replies Jubilee, pulling on some threads. The inside-business is a little slow today.

“Sure it does!” argues Fresh. “We’ve been going to bed at the same time for so long, that it would be weird if we didn’t.”

“What’s weird is that you think this is a thing,” says Jubilee, shaking their head and not looking up from their work.

“Baaaasil~!” calls Fresh.

Basil pops her head out from behind a shelf. “Yes?”

“Is it a ‘thing’ that we always all go to bed at the same time?”

Basil thinks for a second, letting her eyes wander around the store. “Yes,” she nods. “It is.”

“See?!” exclaims Fresh.

“I do not,” replies Jubilee, dryly.

“Besides, what if a monster breaks out of the dungeon?” she asks. “And tries to get into our house?”

“Like those crabs, that you still haven’t managed to keep outside?” asks Jubilee.

A voice comes from the window. “Oh, don’t worry. That doesn’t happen here.” Fresh turns her head, looking at the stranger who has joined in on the conversation. “Weird question. Can I get a scoop of apple, but stuffed into a bottle of milk?” he asks.

Fresh gasps. The stranger had just invented the milkshake. Of course! It was so obvious. How could she have forgotten about such a thing? “Sure thing!” she says, running around and gathering everything together. “What do you mean? That doesn’t happen here?” she asks while pulling a bottle of milk out of the cooling-cabinet.

“Oh,” says the man. He’s a dark-elf with an athletic build, covered in tribalistic tattoos and markings. “The monsters only break out of the dungeon in the other zones, because they don’t have an outside area anymore.”

“Huh?” asks Fresh, trying to find a way to jam the ice-cream into the bottle without any mess.

“The crabs,” says the stranger, nodding his head to the crabs. “They’re born from the dungeon’s magic. That’s why they’re around the gate.”

“Oooh,” says Fresh, having opted to just messily stuff the ice-cream into the bottle and then just wipe off the residue on the outside with a cloth. She thinks for a second.

“Since the other cities developed the areas too far to allow monsters to spawn outside of the dungeon-gate anymore, the magical energies get trapped until they’re strong enough to explode out all at once,” he explains. “That’s what a ‘dungeon-break’ is.”

“Ooooh!” says Fresh a second time, understanding now what the cause of this phenomenon was. “So there won’t be any here?” she asks, putting a lid on the bottle and giving it a furious shake.

He shakes his head. “Dungeons are living, breathing things,” says the man. “Us fighting the crabs helps it by trimming its overgrowing magical energies in a controlled way and it helps us by giving us something to do.”

“You some kind of tree hugging, forest-dwelling, kook?” asks Jubilee, looking over from behind Fresh.

“Jubilee!” scolds Fresh, handing the man his bottle and taking the coins. But he just seems to laugh, taking it as a joke.

“I dwell on the beach these days, actually. Thanks!” he says, taking his bottle and going.

“Huh…” says Fresh, placing her hands on her hips. “You learn something new every day.”

“Do you?” asks Jubilee. “Because I have my doubts that you do.”

“It’s settled then,” says Fresh, looking back at her friend. “We’re going to bed early tonight, crankilee!”

There is an audible snipping as Jubilee presses the scissors closed very tightly. “What?”

“Crankilee!” says Fresh. “It’s like Jubilee, but cranky!”

“Why don’t you go do something productive, like making that dressing room?” asks Jubilee, pointing to the small, downstairs storage space. “Hey. Basil. Take over the window.”

Basil looks around the shelf, a can of lotion in her hand. “Say ‘please’.”

“Please hang yourself from the nearest pole,” says Jubilee. “But before that, take over the window.”

“Ju- bi- lee! That’s so mean!” exclaims Fresh. “Don’t listen, Basil! Jubilee’s just cranky.”

“I’m gonna get cranky if you say I’m cranky one more time,” says Jubilee, pointing a finger at her.

“Cranky!” argues Fresh, crossing her arms.

“I’m warning you,” threatens Jubilee.

Fresh looks around, already eyeing out her escape-routes for when she says it again in three seconds. But she comes to a realization as she looks at the space that she herself had built behind the counter.

“There’s nowhere to run, is there?” asks Jubilee, seeing her weakness right away.

Her only choice would be to vault over the window. But that would take her too long, Jubilee would get her before she managed. Same with the counter, since she would have to take a step towards Jubilee to get past the cabinets. They’d catch her there too.

Basil sighs, stepping in through the counter. “I’ll take care of it,” she says, stepping in between the two of them, seeing the ‘fight’ about to develop.

Fresh purses her lips, but relents, seeing that she’s been beaten this time. “Thanks, Basil,” she says to the very well rested priestess, who had managed to sleep all night. Basil nods.

“Drink some cool water, it’ll pep you up,” she says. Fresh grabs a bottle on her way, deciding that the priestess’ wisdom is sage advice. Walking out past the counter, she looks back at Jubilee who is still staring her way.

Their eyes meet.

“Chicken-butt,” says Jubilee.

Fresh blinks quietly for a moment and then starts laughing, holding her gut and falling over to the floor as she continues to laugh an unreasonable amount at this absurd statement, as if it was the most hilarious thing she had ever heard. She can hear Jubilee laughing too, but she doesn’t have the strength to get up and look as she is still in the midst of it herself.

Basil looks over the counter towards her. “Should Shamrock and I take over the store?” she asks. “You two can go to bed now, if you want,” she suggests, not getting an answer right away as the two of them are still having a fit. “You’re clearly tired,” she says, looking over to Jubilee who is hitting against the counter with their fist.

“B- B- Basil!” says Fresh, managing to pull herself up to her knees.

“Yes?” asks the priestess.

Fresh is still trying to fight down her laugh, pressing her lips tightly together and doing her best to keep her amusement trapped in her throat. She looks at Jubilee who is doing the same as she is, both of them snickering.

“Chicken. Butt,” says Fresh, barely able to open her mouth and falling into a new fit of laughter, together with Jubilee as the two of them lose it entirely.

Basil stands there and scratches her head, having one hand on her waist as she looks at the two of them. “I never got that whole thing,” she says, thinking for a moment. “Shamrock!” she calls around the corner. The man’s head, visible over the shelves, turns their way. “I need your help, please,” says Basil as he approaches. “You two really should get some sleep,” she sighs.

Jubilee, having finally managed to breath their way through it, shakes their head. “No can do,” says Jubilee.

“Huh? Why not?” asks Basil, clearly upset about her mother-henning being denied.

“Because we all go to sleep at the same time,” says Jubilee, looking at Basil. “It’s a thing.” Fresh starts laughing again.

She’s really tired. Way more tired than it is reasonable to be, for only missing one night of sleep. But maybe it’s just the stress of it all.

Razmatazz

Chicken butts are a long term plot-point

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