Thunder crashes loudly outside of the house, the barreling roll of the deep tremor shakes the glass of the windows as it passes over the world. It isn’t just raining outside, it’s pouring in a torrential, sudden downfall, which seems to have come entirely out of nowhere. Water crashes down from the sky and the dewy nighttime air manages to easily find its way inside of here, as it simply seeps in through the thin, weak walls of the rickety house.

Fresh shudders, wrapping her arms around herself, glad that she has actual sleeves now, as well as a place to stay.

Looking back behind herself, she stares at Jubilee, who is finishing up the sweeping. It’s about two hours later now, since they had closed the store and since Fresh had returned from her stressful shopping trip.

Weakly smiling, she shifts her gaze to the two empty bowls on the counter. She had managed to find a little tavern that made hot stews and for an extra few Obols, she even managed to convince them to let her take their bowls, so that she could bring it back home. Takeout isn’t a big concept here, apparently. Maybe that could be an interesting avenue for the future, she wonders? But for now, all that matters is that it was real food; thick, hot and nourishing. They had eaten together in their usual ritual, although today, the two of them were separated by the counter, rather than the bed.

It was her first real, satisfying meal since she had arrived. Assuming Mr. Mushroom doesn’t count. She isn’t sure if he does.

Getting back to the pile of blue mushroom-caps that they had bought during the day, she sits back down on the, now freshly swept, spot and returns to her work, listening to the heavy rain outside, which falls with such energy, that one might think it is trying to cleanse the world. She didn’t tell Jubilee about her encounter with the alchemist. She isn’t sure if she should or not. Obviously the smart thing to do would be to be honest and to tell them. But on the other hand…

Did she do something wrong? She had hit the woman and threatened her. But then again, the woman had more or less done the same to her first, if not perhaps with more subtle tactfulness. It was a dangerous situation, if Donata, the alchemist, had seen her menu, it would have been a real problem. But… Fresh wonders if she didn’t channel just a little too much Jubilee into her actions.

She sighs and grabs a mushroom-cap, returning to her work and making more powder for fresh potions. Thankfully, she has moonwater left upstairs. During the last full moon, she had opted to make a larger quantity and though it was losing its potency quickly, the full strength moonwater will stay good for a while, if kept in the dark.

Besides -

A crash of thunder shakes the world, Fresh flinches, squealing in surprise.

- After the mishap with the fountain, she isn’t sure if maybe trying to make moonwater in the rain is a bad idea or not? What if the rain itself gets ‘moonwatered’? It would seep into everything. Maybe that isn’t even possible and she’s being absurd, but Fresh thinks that she’d rather be safe than sorry this time. She wonders what would happen if she tried to make moonwater in a lake? Or in the ocean?

Maybe it would be best not to find out.

“It’s good that we can just buy the mushroom-caps now,” says Fresh, trying to get rid of the thoughts that she’s having. “Then we don’t even have to leave the building to get anything to make the potions!” She thinks, placing a finger to her lips. “Except wate -”*ptttbht* Fresh blows her lips, wiping her face on her sleeve, as she gets some of the blue mushroom-powder on her tongue, which seems to tingle just a bit now.

“Yeah, it’s pretty efficient,” says Jubilee, agreeing with her, as they finish sweeping the last corner of the store. “So, listen. We made some good money today.”

“We did?” asks Fresh, more for the sake of asking than out of shock.

“Yeah. Look around, dingus, there’s basically nothing left.”

Fresh sighs. “It’s a good thing I made so many potions last week. We still have some upstairs in the pantry,” she says. “Plus with these new ones, we should have enough. I can make a few more daggers too, they seemed popular,” suggests Fresh.

Jubilee leans the broom against the wall. “Yeah, we had a few low-level adventurers looking at them, but I also saw someone from the thieves’ guild buy one.”

“Huh?” Fresh perks up. “The thieves’ guild?”

Jubilee waves her off, seeing her worried expression. “Don’t worry about it. They’re always interested in new ‘thiefy’ things,” explains Jubilee. "Daggers just so happen to be their favorite implements.” Jubilee grabs the two empty bowls. “Besides, dark damage on such a cheap weapon? That’s a cloak’s wet dream. Though…” They look around the room for a second, gathering their thoughts. “- the church won’t be happy about it. But you know, fuck ’em.”

Fresh scratches her head, getting some of the blue-powder in her hair. “’Cloak’?”

“Oh. Just some adventurer jargon for the shady night-types.”

“Oh,” says Fresh, watching the fully cloaked Jubilee walk up the stairs. Shrugging, she returns to her work, deciding not to point that out.

It takes another few hours until everything else is finished. But with some effort, the shelves are once again restocked with fresh, glowing potions. New daggers are hung on the little mounts. The glass-chickens, having been only a handful short, aren’t replenished, but have at least rearranged by Jubilee to look orderly.

[Crafting: 6]{Glassworker} [Witch-Crafting: 5]{Hex-Bags}

Jubilee seems to have a real problem with the chickens and had spent far too long trying to get them all to ‘stand right’, as they kept telling Fresh, who was watching them curiously.

Eventually, once everything else is finished, they go on to discuss what to do with the money. Fresh stares dumb-founded at the heap of coins laying in front of herself. There are clearly more than she can fit in her pockets, even in her new robe. Her eyes dart up to the sheet of paper that Jubilee is showing her, explaining their margins for the day.

Minor soul-potions: 19 Obols each - 241 sold = +4579

Antidotes: 15 Obols each - 64 sold = +960

Bone-daggers: 49 Obols each - 18 sold = +882

Odd and ends: ~40 Obols each - 11 sold = +440

Glass-chickens: 30 Obols each - 3 sold = +90

Mushroom-caps(Blue): - sold 0, bought 36 (6 each) = -216

Mushroom-caps(Orange): - sold 0, bought 61 (5 each) = -305

Total = +6430

“The potions are the real hot-ticket items,” says Jubilee, tapping against the paper. “But we need to diversify. Today we made a lot of sales. But the soul-potions last twelve hours each. So the ones that people bought today will last for a while, especially if they bought a week's worth, like some people did,” they explain. “I don’t expect we’ll sell nearly as many tomorrow. But still, we cleaned up nicely.” They point down to the pile of coins. “Technically speaking, we made over six-thousand Obols today.”

“Six-thousand?!” exclaims Fresh, planting her hands on the ground and leaning in towards Jubilee, who lifts their palm up to block her from getting closer.

“Yeah, but a lot of that was just because of the first rush, don't expect this much every day.” They shake their head. “Anyways… take away five percent for our dues to the merchants’ guild. Then take away twelve percent for sales taxes. Plus the hundred I gave you earlier for food. "But -" Jubilee lowers their hand. “We should also consider putting some money away on the side every day too. Some of it for an emergency fund and some of it for upkeep and maybe some repairs. Is that okay with you?” they ask.

Fresh thinks for a minute and looks around the room. It does have a little… character, to put it nicely. Maybe it would be smart to have some things fixed up. Their image matters, after all. If the building is poorly maintained, it would reflect on their products as well. Fresh turns her gaze back to Jubilee and nods. “Okay.”

“Okay. I’d like to do five percent for each of those things. We’ll keep the money in the guild. That leaves us with…” they think for a second. “That leaves us with about two-thousand-three hundred'ish. Each.“

Fresh’s eyes shoot open wide and she lunges forward, grabbing Jubilee by the shoulders in excitement as she realizes she’s actually going to get that amount, surprised even if it is her fair share. “TWO THOUSAND?!”

Jubilee winces and pushes her back off. “Hey! What did I say about touching me?”

Fresh tilts her head and then pulls back, scratching her cheek. “Sorry. I get excited easily…”

“Yeah, no shit.” Jubilee rolls their shoulders, their eyes shifting uncomfortably. “But yeah. Two thousand three-hundred’ish. Do you get it now?”

Fresh looks at them curiously. “Get what?”

The obscured figure groans audibly in annoyance. “Why the merchants are so cut-throat?” Fresh flinches, her eyes nervously looking into Jubilee’s. “A top-tier, S-rank adventurer in this city can make maybe a thousand a day. But I mean, that’s only the best of the best and in a strong party that gets down deep into the dungeon.” Jubilee shrugs. “The average low-levels with no party can make maybe a hundred on a super good day, until they clear floor eight, that’s after food, repairs, potions and all of that. Now do you understand? There’s real money here,” explains Jubilee. “Not noble-tier, but more than enough to put us far above the average schmuck with a sword.” Jubilee places their hands on their hips and leans in forward towards her. “And that puts a target on our backs. That’s why the merchants’ guild exists. So everyone plays along. Everyone plays nice. Everyone gets their cut. Nobody dies in their sleep.”

Fresh nods, thinking she understands and looks back down towards the money. “What do I do with it?”

“What?” asks Jubilee.

The girl tilts her head, looking at the heap of coins. “What do I… what do I do with it?”

“Are you asking me what you’re supposed to do with… money?” asks Jubilee, shaking their head again.

“Yes,” replies Fresh plainly, nodding once.

“What? Just…” A small hand rubs their hood in agitation as they turn to walk away. “I don’t know, buy yourself something nice. Pay back some money to the guild? Maybe get some furniture for your room? Or some tools for your crafting? Or maybe some frilly, silk underwear. I don’t really give a shit,” says Jubilee, sighing. Fresh looks at them curiously as they walk away, carrying a batch of her potions upstairs to stow them away in the pantry. A smile dawns on her face as she realizes that Jubilee had just called it ‘her’ room.

Thunder crashes outside and the girl flinches again, looking towards the window.

She can’t help but feel that it is somewhat ominous, how the loud crash of the thunder seems to roll and fade away beneath the roaring drone of the rain. It feels like a loud voice crying out in the night, like a scream being drowned beneath the surface of a pool of water. The splash of the downfall is like that of thrashing pair of arms, trying to break free from the crushing pressure of a black-ocean, which pulling them deep down into its depths.

A chill creeps in through the thin walls, rising up her spine and causes Fresh to shiver, now that she sits down here all alone, once again. But it’s different now than it was in the nights before. The room that was so full of life and energy all day today now almost seems… haunting to her, in this contrast. There is something in the air. Something in the water of the rain. Some smell, carried by the storm. Some lonely feeling drifting through the deathly night. A bitter sadness comes to her, now that the sun is gone and she sits all alone in the darkness.

Fresh looks down to the coins at her feet, all of them somehow not glimmering as brightly as they had done only a minute ago. She scoops them all into her bag, before quickly running upstairs and out of the dark downstairs area, as if some midnight-demon were at her heels.

(Fresh) got: [{2300} Obols]

“Jubileeeee~”

“What?” asks Jubilee, coming out of the pantry and looking up at her.

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?” asks Fresh.

“What…?” Jubilee stares up towards her, dumb-founded. “No, you can’t sleep in my room.” They turn around and wave her off. “Creep.”

“I’m not a creep!” protests Fresh. “I just don’t want the demons to get me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” asks Jubilee, rubbing the side of their head as they turn back half-way towards her. There is an odd, surprised look in their eyes.

Fresh clenches her fists and goes on. “You know how when you lay in bed at night, you can’t let your feet hang out of the bed because the demons will eat them?”

“…No,” says Jubilee plainly, lifting their arms to the air in a half-shrugging motion for a second.

Fresh stares at them with a quivering lip, her fists still held before herself. She decides to ignore their rebuttal and to just explain further. “Well since I don’t have a bed, the demons can get all of me!” she says, gesturing to herself. “All of me is hanging out over demon country!”

“Are you fucked in the head?” Jubilee rolls their eyes. “Go to sleep, your goo-brain is leaking. If you want a bed, we can get you some wood and a mattress tomorrow and you can make one.” They sigh in exhaustion and walk towards their room, shutting the door behind themselves with some emphasis.

Fresh turns around to look down at the dark downstairs area below, not sure what she is expecting to see, apart from the nothing that is there. Quickly she turns and dashes into her own room, shutting the door behind herself as well, wishing she had taken a torch from the dungeon.