“Come on. Chop, chop,” barks Jubilee at Shamrock as he passes by and heads out of the front-door with several boxes in his hands. He spares a glance down towards Jubilee, opting not to say anything as he loads the contents into the tiny half-carriage. Dried provisions, materials, blankets, all sorts of those traveling necessitates that they’ll need on the road have already been bought by Jubilee and loaded into the small wagon that they’ve also arranged.

Basil is in town, securing an adolescent Anqa. Though Jubilee had insisted that the three of them just take turns pulling the wagon. Everyone declined that offer, opting rather to pitch in a bit of all of their own personal funds to just buy an Anqa and be done with it. Basil, having experience with the creatures, is in charge of that. Shamrock, Fresh and Jubilee are loading up the cart.

As for the house, Jubilee begrudgingly agreed to give it to the party of children who had accosted Shamrock on several occasions. They obviously seemed skeptical at first, especially the feisty, black-haired boy, who is apparently the leader of their party. They only ended up believing them after Shamrock confirmed that their offer was real.

Fresh isn’t sure why the kids trusted Shamrock blindly, especially after he had rejected them and their invitations so often, but to them, his word was law. Maybe there’s something to be said for the sheer effect that a strong, stoic presence like his has, especially on wayward children. Shamrock is a bit of a silly person, but she can imagine how he would appear as a lawful authority figure to the lost. After all, he had been the same for her.

It’s a wild world, apparently. Orphans here don’t even need legal guardians. Things such as the orphanage that Basil used to work at, are a luxury. Most ‘lost’ children ended up either disappearing or banding together in small packs, much like the fairies. There’s safety in numbers. That’s what the group of kids here had been doing. Apparently, the six of them, classless, have been making ends meet for over a year by just grinding the few levels of the dungeon that they can manage within every reset.

Everyone tries so hard to survive in this world and she’s just living a life of love and comfort, realizes Fresh. It makes her feel bad, in a way. Even if she knows that it isn’t something to feel bad about. Fresh makes a note to tighten up the locks on the windows and doors before they leave and to build a few extra beds. Maybe she could make some bunk-beds? That would save space for them. Jubilee is going to take care of the paperwork after this. Speaking of space…

“Jubilee?” she asks, carrying the soft, sky-blue blanket that Jubilee had made for her, folded up and close to her chest.

“What?” asks Jubilee, watching as she carefully stows it away, tucking it tenderly into a box.

Fresh looks over her shoulder. “When we leave, do you want to sit on my lap?”

Jubilee places their hands on their hips. “What is wrong with you?”

Fresh frowns. “I’m just asking! It’s going to be cramped,” she says, patting the small cart. “It’s such a little thing.”

“It would be less cramped if you had stopped eating all of those candies,” replies Jubilee, rolling their eyes.

“I haven’t had any candy in weeks!” exclaims Fresh. “Right, Shamrock?”

Shamrock nods, poking a finger against her stomach. “Like steel,” is all that he says, before walking back inside to get another box. Fresh beams, making a show out of flexing her arms.

“Anyways,” sighs Jubilee. “The biggest piece of dead-weight here is this guy,” they add on, pointing over their shoulder towards Shamrock. “He’ll take up half the cart by himself.”

Shamrock turns his head around, looking at Jubilee. “My lap is also free.”

“Fuck off!” barks Jubilee. Shamrock shrugs and leaves. “I’m not sitting on anyone’s lap, you degenerates!”

“But Jubileeee~” argues Fresh. “We can make a lap-stack!”

Jubilee stares at her for a moment. “A what?”

“A lap-stack,” explains Fresh, gesturing with her hands. “We’ll arrange ourselves from biggest to smallest and then we’ll sit on each other’s laps together in one spot.” She scratches her cheek, considering the merits of this idea. It would really save a lot of space. Plus she bets it would be fun.

“Here’s a better idea; we’ll make a noose and then drag my dead body behind the cart,” counters Jubilee. “Because that’s a preferable alternative.”

Fresh sighs, going to get another box. “So you don’t like the lap-stack idea?”

“I do not like the lap-stack idea.”

Fresh tilts her head, moving on to her next question. “Do you want to share a room in our next house, Jubilee?” asks Fresh. “We can have a sleep-over every night then!”

“What? So you can crush my bones all night with your weird, grabby, crab-fingers?” asks Jubilee. “No thanks,” they say. “Besides, the others will probably get weird about it.”

“Huh?” asks Fresh, confused, looking around at her fingers. They don’t look weird, grabby or crabby to her. “Why would they get weird about it?”

Jubilee looks at her for a moment, but then just shoos her away, their shoulders drooping. “Don’t you worry your empty, little head about it. Come on. Who knows how much time we have left.”

“Mm,” nods Fresh, heading upstairs to pack away Jubilee’s mirror into her inventory. They’ve certainly already prepared a lot more for this move than for their last one, but there are still a few tidbits left to take care of. “Hey, Jubilee?” asks Fresh.

“What?” asks Jubilee, clearly exasperated.

Fresh heads to the cold-cabinet, grabbing a handful of the fairy-house heating beads from behind the counter. These are different kinds though. Rather than constructing them with ash from the fire, she had taken a bit of ice from the dungeon. They worked the exact opposite way now, offering a cooling mechanism with which she intends to replace the crystal in the pot of the cooling-cabinet with. “When the fair was going on, a guy called Patala talked to me.”

Jubilee looks at her, their loosened posture tightening again. They narrow their eyes. “The fair was ages ago,” they say, their voice taking a sharper tone. “That conniving fuck…” they begin to mutter. “Wait. What did he tell you?” asks Jubilee quickly.

Fresh shakes her head. “I told him to leave me alone,” she explains. “He was super obviously-evil,” says Fresh. “He always wore a hood and I could never see his face and… uh…” she looks at Jubilee. “But in a different way,” she adds on, lifting a finger.

“And?” asks an increasingly nervous Jubilee.

She shrugs, taking the pot out of the cabinet and opening the lid. She smiles down to the magic-crystal, taking it out of the water. “Good job!” she whispers to it, before turning to Jubilee. “He gave me some instructions to go to the adventurers’ guild and to order the fish or whatever. I don’t remember,” she says.

“And?”

“I didn’t go,” shrugs Fresh, looking at her friend. “Jubilee, friends can have secrets and it’s not my business what you do,” she explains. “But I’d like it if you didn’t talk to clearly-evil people like that.” She places the cooling marbles into the pot and closes the lid, setting it back into the top of the cabinet. She doesn’t think that the kids are going to run a store, but they’ll surely appreciate the luxury of such a piece of furniture. “I know the thieves’ guild has been helping us, but I don’t want them to. I don’t trust them,” says Fresh, staring at the cool vapor that begins to sink down through the glass door of the cabinet. “But I trust you.”

Jubilee looks at her for a moment without saying anything. “You being too nice is going to get you killed one day, you know?” they ask.

Fresh shakes her head. “No, because I know you’ll keep me safe,” she explains, walking towards Jubilee with open arms. “So that’s why you have to sit on my lap.”

“Fuck off,” says Jubilee, pointing at her. “And this isn’t a hug-moment,” they threaten.

“It is,” says Fresh, approaching, her arms widening.

“It’s not,” says Jubilee, stepping a step back and away warily. Suddenly, Fresh freezes, stopping in her tracks, her arms held there as she stands completely still, as if frozen in time, not blinking, not breathing. Jubilee stares at her, also standing where they were. “What th- ?”

“CHICKEN-BUTT!” yells Fresh, leaping in towards the confused Jubilee for the kill. Jubilee, quick as ever, ducks back and away from Fresh’s closing arms. She lands on the floor, her grip empty, her narrowing eyes looking up towards her friend. Jubilee stares at her warily from a few steps away.

“Jubilee~”

Jubilee shifts their posture. “What?”

Fresh points at them. “I’m gonna get you.”

“Like hell!”

“BAKAW!” yells Fresh, lurching up from all fours as she makes her next run at Jubilee.

“FUCK OFF!” barks Jubilee, shooting out of her way again before jumping over the counter and making a run up the stairs. Jubilee reaches the top step, falling over forward however in the last second, as something grabs their ankle. “Let go, you gangly fuck!” they shout down at her, as they hold on to the edge of the bottom of the stone handrail for dear life. Jubilee looks up towards Shamrock, who is folding blankets. “Shamrock! Do something!”

Shamrock nods to Jubilee, giving them a thumbs-up. He then continues folding blankets.

“You traitorous FU- AHG!”

Jubilee is dragged down the staircase and suffers their cruel fate.