Fresh stands at the workbench, tinkering around with a small, glass vial of grimpowder. Lifting it up, she gently tips it over and watches as several flakes of it fall down to the table, exploding against it the second they strike with tiny, audible crackling pops.

“What the fuck are you even doing with that stuff?” asks Jubilee, standing in the workshop as well, as they are sewing together a long, leather bracelet that is meant to serve as protection for their forearms. Jubilee has been working on a very light layer of leather equipment that they can wear beneath their obscuring outfit, in order to protect themselves from the glass of their own magic.

“I’m experimenting with colors, Jubilee!” says Fresh excitedly. “Look!” She picks up a different vial, filled with pink-grimpowder and tilts it slowly to the side. The flakes fall out and crackle against the table in a shower of spring-washed yellow and pink sparks. “See?” she asks. “Isn’t it pretty?” Fresh holds out the little vial to Jubilee who just takes a nervous step back.

“Why the fuck is my name on it?” asks Jubilee, staring at the little sign on the vial.

“Oh!” Fresh lifts a finger. “That’s because the sparkles from this bottle look like your eyes, Jubilee!”

“That’s a weird thing to say,” says Jubilee, placing their hands on their hips. “You’re doing a weird thing again,” they explain, raising an eyebrow.

Fresh frowns, looking at Jubilee and then back to the vial in her hands. “So you don’t like the sparkles?”

“What? Do I -?” Jubilee stops, taking a second to sigh very loudly. “The ‘sparkles’ are fine, goo-brain. But what fucking point do they even have?”

“They sparkle, Jubilee,” says Fresh. “That’s the point!” She gives the vial a little twist, letting a small shower of crackling sparkles rain down between them both.

“Better idea,” says Jubilee, waving their hands to get the smoke out of their face. “How about you make a barrel of that really explosive stuff and we sell it to the highest bidder?” they suggest.

“That’s super dangerous!” says Fresh. “If we sell them the real one, they’re going to use it to hurt people!”

“So?” asks Jubilee. “Some people could do with a little hurting,” they say, shrugging and then getting back to their work. “You know, sometimes I wonder if you’re ever going to get jaded?”

Fresh shrugs, setting the vial carefully back into the wall-mounted holder and then bumps into Jubilee from the side with her waist on purpose. They make an annoyed grumble, pushing her back away. “Would you be sad if I did?”

“We all have to grow up eventually,” they say, continuing their sewing. “Even you.”

Fresh sticks out her tongue. “Bleeeh~!” Jubilee rolls their eyes. “I’m an adult, Jubilee,” says Fresh. “It’s not that I don’t see all the horrible stuff everywhere,” she says. “But I’m just gonna look at it, acknowledge it and then focus on the things I can actually do something about,” she explains.

Jubilee thinks for a moment. “That’s…” they look at her suspiciously. “- surprisingly reasonable, coming from you.”

Fresh makes a ‘glasses’ gesture with her eyes. “I see things too, Jubilee,” she says. “You should have seen what I saw Basil and Shamrock doing yesterday!”

“Wait, what?”

“Anyways, can I get some moonglass?” she asks. “I want to start making glasses like Basil’s, but for the store!”

“Don’t you have any left?”

Fresh shakes her head. “I was thinking about Mr. Mushroom the other day, so I tried to make a new sculpture of him. But out of moonglass.”

“That went well last time,” says Jubilee, raising an eyebrow. “You should try the next one out of crystal-drakonium,” they suggest, knocking on a rubbery bar, sitting on the table. “I know a few people who would put in giant orders for them.”

“JU- BI- LEE~!” complains Fresh. “Don’t corrupt my artistic vision!” she argues.

“I thought you were an adult?” asks Jubilee sarcastically. “It’s called banter. That being said, I really do know people. Especially in this city.”

“We’re not doing that!” argues Fresh, sighing as she clears the table of any and all crystal-drakonium, grabbing the last bar and holding it in her hands for a moment.

“Oh, sure. Now you have moral boundaries.”

“I’ve always had moral boundaries, Jubilee!” she says, waving a wobbly bar of crystal-drakonium around in front of them.

“Get that thing out of my face!”

Fresh gasps, looking at Jubilee who is swiping her hand away. “I have an idea!”

“Please don’t.” Fresh bends down, grabbing a barking Jubilee on their stomach with both hands, turning them from side to side to look at them. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Jubilee!” says Fresh. “What if we melt some crystal-drakonium, like with Shamrock’s slimes and then paint it over your leather?”

“Sure,” says Jubilee. “While we’re at it, we can put some of your explosive powder inside of my mask and you can shove a rare-wood staff u-”

“JUBILEE!” scolds Fresh.

Jubilee rolls their eyes. “FINE!” they relent. “We’ll melt your damn goo. Never a fucking quiet minute, is there?” They shake their head. “Better not ruin my armor. I’ve been working on this for two days.”

Fresh beams, clasping her hands together. “It makes me happy that you’re taking care of yourself, Jubilee.”

“Are you my mom? Fuck off,” says Jubilee, pointing to the door.

Fresh obliges, taking the bar of crystal-drakonium out with her to the kitchen. At first she had wondered why Jubilee had chosen now to make any sort of armor, rather than ever before. Jubilee’s magic has always been dangerous and they had said and shown as much ever since she met them. She had only ever seen one outfit of Jubilee’s that wasn’t tattered to shreds from cuts and rips and for the longest time, she could only imagine what the body beneath those layers looked like.

Now that she can see it and the many scars covering it, she realizes why they are making the armor now, as she begins melting the bar in a pot, using the methods Shamrock had explained to them. Much like she had often exposed herself to the cold as a method of self-punishment, Jubilee had used cuts. It was a long time ago, but she still remembers Jubilee’s mattress from the north. It was caked and crusted with blood and originally, she had assumed it was from their life as an adventurer. But now, as she has come to understand her friend better, she realizes that that blood was drawn for the purpose of helping a numb person find the sensation of a feeling, any feeling, like she had once done herself.

The fact that Jubilee is showing themselves, using Basil’s anti-scarring cream and taking preventative measures for the future shows that they have healed.

Fresh continues to beam, taking the pot off of the stove and walking back to the workshop with it.

“Careful!” she calls, setting it down on the workbench and stepping away. “It’s super hot.”

“Great,” says Jubilee. “It also smells like a goblin’s ass and c - Do you mind?” Fresh shakes her head, standing behind Jubilee, having grabbed them in a spontaneous hug.

“No. I don’t mind,” replies Fresh.

Jubilee tries to squeeze their way out. “You know damn well what I meant!”

“I know you’re shy, Jubilee,” says Fresh. “But I’m glad you’re feeling good these days.”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about?” asks Jubilee, still trying to get away. “I’ll feel better when I finally escape the nightmare that is my life,” they reply as Fresh nuzzles her head against the side of theirs.

“Let’s get to work!” says Fresh, letting go and jumping up to her feet very abruptly. “GO TEAM!” she calls, holding her hand out to Jubilee.

“I’m not doing that.”

“GO TEAM!” repeats Fresh, nudging Jubilee. She leans over, holding her hand by her mouth. “I promise I won’t tell anyone,” she whispers and seals the deal with a wink.

Jubilee rubs their forehead, holding their hand out to hers. “Go… fucking team. I guess?”

“GO TEAM!” cheers Fresh and the two of them set to work.

It doesn’t take too long. Jubilee’s under-layer of armor is really just a chest-piece with some fluff near the edges to catch splinters of glass, as well as some bracers with fluff as well, to prevent any glass from going up their sleeves. The exterior of the leather, they paint over with the liquefied crystal-drakonium and then they let it sit for a little. The extra layer adds a small, hardly noticeable sheen to the leather that doesn’t feel much heavier than before.

Now, it has the additional effects that it helps insulate temperature better and that it offers slight resistances to magic-damage.

Fresh asks why Jubilee doesn’t have a combat-menu and Jubilee explains that only ‘people’ get a combat-menu. Humans, elves, fairies and so on. Monsters, to which demons count, don’t get one unless they are attacked by a humanish creature. While most monsters are still bound by the rules of the system, demonic magic is an exception. It does its damage solely based on real, physical destruction, which syncs up with what Fresh has seen of Jubilee’s fighting so far.

It’s grim.

What this means however, is that Jubilee’s attacks entirely bypass the health-point system, despite having health-points themselves. “So if a monster eats another monster in the forest, there’s no menu?” asks Fresh.

“Nope,” replies Jubilee, adjusting the fluffy trim around their neck again as they put on their finished armor. “Just a huge fucking mess.”

Fresh nods, stepping back a step, admiring her friend. She clasps her hands next to her face in delight. “Jubilee!” she cries, more than pleased.

“What?” asks an exhausted Jubilee.

“You look great!”

“Shut up, goo-brain,” replies Jubilee, shaking their head and pulling out a strand of white hair from their armor.

They can’t hide the fact that they’re smiling though. Fresh sees it and they know that she sees it. So they roll their eyes and the two of them pretend that nothing ever happened.

It’s just what best friends do.