It is several hours later. The upstairs room of their house is quiet and the only noise which breaks the silence is the sound of Basil noisily sipping her tea while she stares across the table at Jubilee. The priestess is doing her best to keep the tea-cup and plate she is holding steady in her shaking hands. However, she is mostly unsuccessful and the pieces of dishware clacker noisily against each other.

Fresh and Jubilee had spent a little while longer outside, talking about such disgusting things as their feelings and emotions to a nauseating degree. Jubilee, having been ‘reborn’ after undergoing the demonic transformation, had possessed their prior party’s headquarters, haunting it much like a lost ghost, bound to the mortal coil for reasons it can’t understand.

However, demons, unlike ghosts, are still alive and still need to eat, to drink, to sustain themselves with nourishment and while Jubilee had been able to provide for these physical needs by donning a mask and obscuring outfit, they had been unable to provide for the same nourishment of their spirit. This only proved possible through the growth of their newly found family, but by then, much like Fresh’s own kept secrets, it was too complicated, awkward and terrifying to explain the truth, even to them, for the same fear of potential loss that Fresh herself had.

This is why Jubilee can see curses. This is why they have a deep affinity for the night-sky and stars, as demons all tend to in their unspoken longing to one day reach ‘the other side’. This is why the ghost in the west, whose presence is still unexplained, tried to warn them of a demon and went after Jubilee specifically. This is why Jubilee was such a harsh, cold, bitter person. This is why when Fresh had seen Jubilee's exposed hand, during their last night in the north, she had seen red. Their hand wasn't red from blood, that’s just their skin color. These and so many other tidbits and coincidences that Fresh had noticed along the way, but never commented on, because it wasn’t her business.

Now, Jubilee sits here at the table, maskless, staring at Basil who is clearly having difficulties digesting this revelation. As a holy priestess, it was certainly difficult enough for her to accept Fresh’s existence as a witch, as well as Shamrock’s devotion to such a cause. Jubilee had always been a crank, but still someone ‘safe’ for the rules of her beliefs despite that. Now, she finds herself surrounded by a witch, a follower of a witch and a literal demon and she is clearly doing her best to stay grounded, which Fresh realizes must be very hard for someone of such faith as herself.

She hasn’t said anything yet. Fresh had awoken her and explained the situation, after which the priestess got ready for the day and arrived at the table, where she and Jubilee have since been sitting across from each other, staring quietly.

Shamrock seems to be taking this as well as possible. He isn’t bothered in the least and pulls the plate of sunny-side up eggs over towards himself, grabbing another two slices of bread as well, as he continues his breakfast as the only one with a strong appetite.

Looking around the table, Fresh grabs the canister of hot tea that she had prepared. It’s a floral blend, made out of blue-lilac flowers. Pouring a cup, she slides it over to Jubilee who is, for the first time, sitting at the table, maskless, though still wearing the rest of their outfit. They nod to her, setting it to the side, but not drinking. Fresh narrows her eyes. She’s going to get them to eat at the table with the rest of them soon.

Basil sets her cup down, her eyes still closed, taking a long, deep breath and clearing her throat. All of them look over to her.

“It’s not that I didn’t know,” says the priestess. Fresh blinks. “After that last boss-fight in the dungeon, it was obvious,” she says. “That level of magic isn't human. But…” Basil looks at her tea. “It’s not that I didn’t suspect something before that, since your combat menu never appears.”

“Huh?” asks Fresh. Really? Is that true? Now that she thinks about it, she has never seen a menu appear from Jubilee in a fight. But, honestly, she had never really thought about it. Does that mean something?

“But I’m still a little…” Basil sighs. “Confused?” She opens her eyes, looking at Jubilee. “Are you evil? Are we… are we evil?” she asks, looking at Fresh. The story of her ‘escapade’ last night has already been told. Shamrock, as always, took it like a champion. Basil was horrified for many reasons, the largest of which being that Fresh had literally cursed the hero. This is obviously a sacrilege of the highest order for her. Fresh still remembers how Basil and Jubilee fought back in the north. That was only because Jubilee had bad-mouthed the heroes of this world.

“Dunno,” says Jubilee. “We sell coconut-water and bathing-suits,” they say. “Make of that what you will.”

“We also just doomed the world,” says Basil, clearly referring to the cursing of the hero and not the coconut-water.

Fresh lifts her hand. “That was just me,” she says. “It’s not your fault, Basil.”

“It’s clearly also our fault,” says Basil.

Fresh lowers her hand, frowning. She looks down at her plate, noticing that she herself had also only been pushing her breakfast around from side to side, rather than eating it. “The hero wants to kill me, Basil,” she says, sadly. “That’s why he’s here. Because of me,” she explains again.

“Well he sure as fuck wants to do that now,” says Jubilee, leaning back on their chair with their hands locked behind their hair. The ever-confident Jubilee still has problems keeping their gaze straight when any of them look at their face, but she assumes that’s just something that time has to heal.

“I know, it’s just…” Basil sighs. “This is a lot for me, okay?”

“Mm,” nods Fresh, understanding and not wanting to poke any further.

Basil takes another tentative sip of her tea. “I have a question though. When?”

Fresh looks at Basil and then turns her gaze to Jubilee, who she is talking to. Jubilee makes a strained effort to drink their tea, trying to buy some time. Despite the awkwardness of this moment, Fresh can’t help but feel a surge of happiness as she sees Jubilee drinking at the table, together with the rest of them. In an act of unspoken comradery, she takes a sip of her tea too.

“About eight years ago,” says Jubilee, finally.

Basil looks down at her tea. “Were you…?”

“I was.” Fresh scratches her cheek, not having any context to this conversation happening between her friends. They always seem to know things that she doesn't, or at least things that she feels like she should know, but doesn't. “That’s how I know they’re all worthless.”

Basil swirls the contents of her cup around. “It must have been bad for such a radical change. It changed your magic too?”

“Sure did,” replies Jubilee, dryly. “Church sanctioned and all. They thought it’d be interesting. It was.”

Basil stares down at her tea, not saying anything else. Fresh blinks, looking at the others. Shamrock has put an egg on a slice of toast, folded it in half and is busy shoving it through the slit of his helmet. Basil and Jubilee are just sitting there. She scratches her cheek, not knowing what’s going on. Should she ask? She wants to, but maybe she isn’t a part of this conversation. This feels like a Basil-Jubilee thing.

Deciding to let it be, Fresh focuses on finally eating her, now cold, breakfast. She’s already learned enough for one day.

“What’s going to happen now?” asks Basil.

“Well after breakfast, we’re going to put the plates away and then get ready to open,” says Jubilee.

“No, I mean…” Basil looks around. “What’s going to happen now?”

Jubilee raises an eyebrow. “We’re going to open the store like on any other day. Hero? We don’t know anything about any hero,” they say, setting down their tea-cup. Fresh adores the sight of Jubilee holding it. They look so dainty. “We’re going to smile and wave and sell the most scandalous bathing-suits imaginable,” explains Jubilee. “It’s what the fountain wants.”

Fresh doesn’t think that last part is true, clearly Jubilee is trying to lighten the mood, right? She looks down at her reflection in her tea.

…Right?

“- That is if you’re still on board,” finishes Jubilee.

“Of course I’m still on board!” snaps Basil loudly, clearly offended. “As if I wouldn’t be!” she says, leaning over the table in agitation. Her tea-cup and saucer rattle. She clears her throat, falling back onto her chair and crossing her arms, sitting quietly for a minute. “…I suppose every family has their difficulties.”

Jubilee pushes their plate away from themselves, as if disgusted. Offended, Fresh narrows her eyes and slides it back towards them. Jubilee sighs and rolls their eyes. They pick up the piece of toast and bite into it once, causing Fresh to clasp her hands over her chest, feeling her heart skip a beat.

The appeasement ritual is complete. Jubilee drops the rest of the toast back onto their plate and gets up, grabbing the mask from the table and lifting up their hood.

“Let’s clean up, people. We have money to make.”