Fresh stares at the forbidden feather-duster.

The harpy feather-duster is set high up on top of a bookshelf in the library. Jubilee had told Shamrock to throw it up there, so that she would stop causing trouble with it.

She was working downstairs in the basement, but she had to sneeze. She assumes it’s from all of the dust, so now, here she is. Alone in the library, trying to reclaim her lost feather-duster.

Should she climb up the shelf?

That seems dangerous… What if they’re not mounted to the walls? They could tip over. Or the boards of the shelf could crack through if she puts her weight on them, trying to climb up its face.

Maybe she could just get a ladder? Or a really long stick with a hook?

Hmm…

Fresh stands there in the library, feeling the morning sunlight shining in through the window, the warm, orange rays illuminating the dusty particulate that drifts around the room.

“Ah!” She comes to a realization, hitting her fist into an open palm. Opening her inventory, she pulls out her flying broom and then sits herself onto it, floating up to the top of the shelf.

Her head peeks out above the shelves and she looks around. They had dusted the library before, but it looks like they missed the top of the shelves. Boy, it sure is dusty up here.

Fresh’s nose wiggles.

Then again, with all of the regrowing plant-matter inside of their home, dusting is a losing battle. The flowers are always releasing fresh pollen and the mushrooms are always releasing spores. The air is just… full of nature, for better or worse.

Fresh grabs the feather-duster.

Somebody clears their throat.

Hovering above the bookshelves, her hand resting on the feather-duster, Fresh turns her gaze and looks at Jubilee, who is standing at the library-table with crossed arms, looking at her.

The two of them stare at each other for a moment.

Not saying a word, Fresh doesn’t budge a muscle on her face and slowly hovers back down into the obscuring safety between the bookshelves.

The feather-duster slips down along with her hand, swinging out.

A gust of wind shoots through the house. Doors and windows slam shut all at once, the shelves rattle. Books and loose papers fly all around the room, together with a cloud of dust that fills the space like a thick fog.

Hearing Jubilee’s angry shouts, Fresh flies the other way through the shelves, zooming around between them as she maneuvers her escape. Taking a sharp bend, she shoots over Jubilee and towards the staircase.

“Get back here!” they bark, pointing behind themselves. “You’re cleaning this up!”

“I just wanted to dust!” howls Fresh, flying up the staircase as she looks for a way to escape. But she’s trapped herself. There’s nowhere to go upstairs.

She flies into the walled off, but not roofed, bedroom.

“Hi, Basil,” she says.

Basil sips a cup of tea, still lying in bed. “Are you being mean to Jubilee?” asks the priestess.

“Huh?” asks Fresh, pointing at the feather-duster. “I’m never mean to Jubilee. I’m trying to dust the house.”

“Hmm…” remarks the priestess, who is on her way to getting better again. She lifts a hand, pulling a strand of Fresh’s hair back where it ought to be. “I had an idea about that.”

“An idea?” asks Fresh.

Basil nods. “Why not use that to create a draft?” she suggests, pointing at the feather-duster. “We’ll open up the window on this floor and wedge all of the doors open,” says Basil. Fresh hears a pair of small boots thudding their way. She yelps, running to block the door with her back. “Then we’ll secure everything loose. If you stand down in the basement and give that thing a few shakes, we’ll blow all of the dust and powder right out of the window after a minute.”

Fresh thinks about this suggestion for a moment. It’s a good idea, actually.

The boots come closer.

She yelps quietly to herself, grabbing the broom and getting back onto it.

Basil grabs her ankle. “You shouldn’t run away from the results of your own actions,” notes the priestess, sipping her tea calmly. She lets go, leaving Fresh hovering there, free to escape if she so chooses.

The door opens and Jubilee glares at her.

Fresh sighs, lowering her head and letting her boots come to the ground. Basil has a point. “Sorry, Jubilee,” she relents. “I just wanted to dust the library.”

Jubilee rolls their eyes. “There’s more dust than ever now,” they say. “Dumb-ass.”

She rubs her arm. “I’ll clean it up…”

Jubilee narrows their eyes, staring at her suspiciously. Basil rubs her back. “What are you up to?”

“Huh?” asks Fresh. “Nothing! I’ll clean up the library. I didn’t want to make a mess.”

The room is quiet for a moment. Jubilee turns to Basil. “Basil. What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” asks Jubilee, gesturing to her with a hand.

The priestess shrugs, sipping her tea calmly. “Be proud?”

“Fuck off and die, Basil,” replies Jubilee, rolling their eyes.

“No, you.”

“I’ll probably do exactly that,” says Jubilee. “If you don’t get off of your fat-ass and start working again.”

Basil nods. “Don’t worry. I feel better already. I think by tomorrow, I’ll be good to go.”

Jubilee lifts their hands to their sides. “Do I sound worried?”

“Awww, Jubilee~” says Fresh. “It’s really sweet how you’re always so caring about Basil.”

Jubilee sighs, looking around the room. “Where’s Shamrock?”

“I think he’s hanging out with Muldrich,” says Basil.

“Why the fuck?”

Basil shrugs. “They have a lot in common.”

Fresh tilts her head, staring at Jubilee for a moment. The two of them walk out of the bedroom to the upstairs window and open it, leaning out to look down towards the front door.

Shamrock and Muldrich are standing there on either side of the front door, neither of them saying a word as they just stare out straight ahead into the city. Both of them are entirely motionless, entirely silent.

“Huh…” mutters Fresh.

Jubilee shrugs. “Birds of a feather,” they state. “Come on. I’ll help you get the library back together,” says Jubilee. Fresh nods, grateful for their help in fixing another one of her blunders.

The two of them go downstairs and get to work. With two pairs of hands and then an application of Basil’s idea, it’s really not so bad.