Dungeon Item Shop - Chapter 266: Home together (Patreon)

Fresh flips the pages of her grimoire, sitting outside on the balcony with her feet kicked up onto the table and her chair leaned back. She’s looking for anything that could offer her a particular bout of inspiration that she’s looking for. It’s after their closing, but before bed-time. Shamrock is still in the dungeon and Jubilee and Basil had vanished to take care of something about an hour ago. Fresh assumes that it’s shady business, given how shifty Jubilee was acting. Thieves’ guild stuff, if she had to bet on something. She really wishes that Jubilee wouldn’t get Basil involved in these kinds of things, not that she wants Jubilee themselves to be involved either.

She sighs, flipping a page. Well, she’s not their mother. Everyone has to make their own decisions for their own lives, right?

“Get your feet off of the table, you fucking animal,” barks Jubilee, a loud snapping present in their air as they walk in and through the kitchen. Fresh blinks, turning her gaze in towards the house, wiggling her toes in protest.

“Hi, Jubilee!” she calls in through the balcony door. “I was just thinking about you guys.”

Jubilee sighs, taking off their mask and setting it down onto the table. “Do you ever live your own life? Or do you just creep us all day, every day in your head?”

Fresh tilts her head, thinking for a second. “Just you guys, I think,” she says, her eyes wandering upwards. “Unless I’m sad, then I think about myself a lot.”

“Yeah, that checks out,” replies Jubilee dryly, grabbing a bottle of coconut-water from the cooling-cabinet. They open it, taking a tender sip before shuddering and setting it back. “Fucking coconut water. I can’t see this shit anymore,” they mutter, grabbing a bottle of sweet-tea instead.

“You should drink some normal water,” suggests Fresh. “Too much sweet stuff is bad for you.”

“Get off my ass, mom,” replies Jubilee, snarkily.

Fresh gasps. “I was just thinking about being your mom too!” she says, finally pulling her feet off of the table and leaning in towards Jubilee who stares at her with one of the most confusing expressions she has ever seen them make.

“This conversation is going to stop here. We will never speak of this again. Goodbye,” is all that Jubilee says, turning to walk away to their room.

“Do you want dinner?” she asks, calling after them. “I’ll cook.” Fresh tilts her head a second time, looking past Jubilee. “Hey, where’s Basil?” she asks, realizing that the priestess isn’t there with them.

“She took a bend to the dungeon to hang out with Shamrock, I guess?” says Jubilee. “Steak?”

“We don’t have any steak,” says Fresh, looking at the cooling cabinet. “How about fish?”

“I’m sick of fish and I’m sick of coconuts.”

“Crab?” asks Fresh.

Jubilee stares at her, still teetering on the edge of their room, shaking their leg that the bear has latched on to. “I will literally lock you out if you name one more thing that comes from the ocean.”

“Salad?” suggests Fresh.

Jubilee shrugs. “I thought you wanted to make dinner.”

“Salad is dinner.”

“Please,” replies Jubilee, raising an eyebrow. “It’s hardly food,” they say, sighing. They look down at the bottle of tea in their hand and swish it around, not looking particularly excited by it either.

“You sure are picky, Jubilee,” replies Fresh, closing her grimoire and getting up.

“It’s called having standards, goo-brain. Try it some time,” they reply.

“If she did,” replies Basil, coming in from the staircase with Shamrock in tow. “She couldn’t be your friend anymore.”

“Oh great,” sighs Jubilee. “I thought I’d have at least an hour away from you,” they say. “What’s the matter, was the dungeon too scary for you?”

Basil lifts her nose, walking to the cooling cabinet to grab a bottle of herbal tea. “As if anything could frighten me after having to spend a whole evening with you.”

“Fuck off,” says Jubilee.

“Make me,” replies Basil, taking a long drink from her bottle.

Fresh blinks, staring at the two of them.

“Hello,” says Shamrock, waving. He doesn’t often join in on the ‘banter’, opting to take the high-road more often than not.

Fresh waves back. “We’re just talking about dinner, guys,” says Fresh. “How does steak sound?” she asks. “But someone has to go with me to the market.”

“I’d prefer something light,” says the priestess. “Like fish or salad.”

“We have that literally every day!” protests Jubilee. Basil continues to ignore them, drinking from her bottle instead.

“Pancakes,” suggests Shamrock.

Jubilee places their hands on their hips. “Pancakes are a breakfast food.”

Fresh lifts a finger. “What if we take a pancake, put a steak on it and some salad on that and then another pancake on top?”

Jubilee stares at her for a second and then shuts their door, stepping inside of their room without saying another word. Fresh yelps, reaching after them. Basil shrugs indifferently and sits down at the table, taking off her boots.

“Shamrock?” asks Fresh. “Will you go to the market with me, please?”

“No,” replies the man, shaking his head.

“Huh?” she asks. “Pleeeeease?” begs Fresh. “I don’t want to go alone and Jubilee is being grumpy and Basil is taking off her boots already.”

“No,” he repeats, sitting down at the table.

“Shamrooooock~”

“No.”

She sighs, having been beaten. “Fine. I’ll go by myself then,” she relents, grabbing her bag and putting some socks on. By the time she’s ready to go, she sees Basil waiting on her, having put her boots back on again.

“I’ll go with you,” she concedes.

“It’s okay, Basil,” says Fresh. “I bet you’re tired too.”

Basil shakes her head. “We’ll manage together, come on,” says the priestess, opening the door for her.

“So, steak?” asks Fresh.

The priestess sighs. “Fine,” she relents. “But only if we can buy the expensive ones,” she says. “I don’t trust cheap meat,” explains the priestess. Fresh nods, agreeing to the terms of the deal. Their grocery budget is more than substantial as is anyways, so they can afford to splurge on nice things too.

The two of them make their way to the city. This late in the evening, most of the vendors are already closed or closing as they speak. But a few of them are always open a little later, particularly the food merchants, capturing the last bit of hungry foot-traffic. People on their ways back home from work or from the dungeon.

Making their way to an ornate, little plaza filled with greenery and a fountain, the two of them walk around and find some nice cuts of meat, as well as a bundle of fresh vegetables. Though she does find herself staring for a little too long at a pile of apples. Shaking her head and picking up the basket, Fresh gasps as she sees the thing laying behind it.

“I’d like this too, please!” she exclaims, sliding another few coins across the counter. It’s easily three times as expensive as they were back in the north, but what’s a little money worth anyways? Not as much as this piece of fruit, in her eyes.

(Fresh) bought: [Orange muka fruit](Normal) for [{36} Obols] !

“Basil!” she calls to the priestess who is sitting on the bench by the fountain, waiting for her. “Look what I found!” she says excitedly, showing Basil the orange fruit. Basil gasps in delight. It’s the same kind of orange fruit that she had always bought the priestess back in the north, after Basil had gone on a tirade once about her favorite color being orange. She hands it to her.

“Thank you!” says Basil excitedly, smiling at her. She scoots to the side. “Would you like to share it with me?”

Fresh sits down, setting the basket down at her feet. “It’s yours, Basil,” smiles Fresh, waving her off.

Basil nods, tearing it in half and giving her a piece anyways. “It’d taste better if you had some too. Otherwise I’ll feel like a glutton,” laughs the priestess.

“Mm!” Fresh takes it without protest. “So, what did you guys do earlier?” she asks.

“Shady stuff,” sighs Basil. “You wouldn’t like it.”

“I bet,” says Fresh, biting down into the odd fruit, remembering that you’re supposed to eat it with the peel. It really is very banana’ish, from the texture to the mushy consistency. But it’s very bright tasting and almost sour in its flavor.

Basil smiles, looking down at the thing in her hands. “You know,” she says. “These have always been my favorite, even since I was young.”

“Because of the color?”

“No, not because of that,” replies Basil. “But it’s sweet that you remember that.”

Fresh clasps her hands together. “I remember everything about my friends, Basil.”

Basil laughs. “It’s creepy when you say it like that,” she says, pointing at Fresh’s wide, almost unblinking eyes that stare at her.

“Everything,” says Fresh in a monotone voice, pressing her eyes open wider and leaning in closer to Basil who laughs and pushes her back away to her side of the bench. She starts laughing too.

“No, it’s just…” Basil thinks for a second. “Do you ever do something weird, but not really for a real reason?” she asks. “Like, you make up a rule that you can only do something if something happens? Or something like that you can’t step on a crack with your left foot today?” she asks.

“Sure,” replies Fresh. “I do stuff like that all the time.”

“I figured,” replies Basil, biting into her fruit and apparently relishing the flavor, as she doesn’t say anything for a while. “Well, it’s kind of a thing. But when I was a girl,” she starts. “And don’t laugh!” warns Basil, going on. “I got one of these as a present.” She holds up the piece of fruit in her hands. “After my first winter at the church.”

“Mm,” nods Fresh, listening intently as she eats. Remembering what Basil had told her about that last sentence in particular already, that must have been quite a feeling to see the spring come around again. Especially as a child.

“It was from a special person,” she explains. “And then, on that day, I decided that I was never allowed to buy these for myself,” says Basil, looking at the piece of fruit in her hand and as her sleeve lifts itself up from the movement of her arm, Fresh sees the golden bracelet that the priestess had bought for herself with some of the first money that she earned together with them. She’s still wearing it. “I’m only ever allowed to eat these if someone gets them for me without me asking. Even if they’re my favorite.”

Fresh gasps. “Basil!” she says, her mouth still full of mush. She covers her mouth with her hand, before swallowing. “That’s super sad and also super cute.”

“Uh, thank you. I think?” says Basil, pulling her sleeve back up to cover her bracelet as she takes another bite of the fruit.

“So what happened to that person?” asks Fresh, finishing her piece. Basil just shakes her head. “Oh.” She scratches her cheek. Somehow, she feels like she should have known. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” says Basil, finishing hers as well and wiping her hands on her robe. “I never told anyone and since then, you were literally the first person to give me one,” says Basil. “Boy, that sure threw me for a loop.” She scratches her cheek. “I learned a lot about myself during those days.”

“Huh?”

“Anyways,” says Basil, getting up. “I’ve found that there are a lot of special people in this world,” she says. “I just want to try to be one of them, you know?”

“Mm,” nods Fresh, getting up and grabbing the basket with one hand, noticing how light it feels for her. She has gotten stronger for sure. With her other hand, she grabs Basil’s hand and the two of them make their way home. “You’re already one of them, Basil,” says Fresh. “For me.”

“You are too,” says Basil, looking at what is apparently a particularly interesting window off to the side, somewhere else. “For me.”

And like that, the two of them go home and by the time they all prepare dinner together, everyone ends up being in a much lighter mood, before they all fall into a deep, restful sleep.