“That’s what I thought,” Vio says, sounding a little smug. “As far as the question…well, it depends on the context. Sometimes Tommy is like that because he’s been put through hell. Sometimes he’s just a sadistic asshole. The way I cope with the former is very different from how I deal with the latter. There are more than a few Tommys who have ended up here, and many act distinctly unlike Toms ever did.”

The casual use of the nickname is coupled with a slight anger, though it’s mainly visible through a single flick of his tail. There’s no guilt or hesitation as he continues, “That said, the ones who are cruel and cold due to that being their innate nature are dealt with the same way we deal with the Dreams or Schlatts or anyone else who poses a threat or risk to whatever we believe is the reason we’re in that world. By that I mean that we cut them down without mercy, because they are not and never will be the ones we know, care about, and have built this place up with and for.”

His attention slides over to Hero, who is staring back at him. The not-dog huffs a little again, eyes rolling. It’s…more than a little weird to see how he can emote and communicate so well without words.

“Hero says that he doesn’t give a shit as long as he gets fed. New people keep making the mistake of giving him prismarine and spider eyes, thinking if they let him sniff it he’ll be repulsed.” He turns his slit gaze to the not-dog, who is studiously looking away like it will make him any less guilty. “You need to stop tricking them like an asshole; you know that it pisses Tommy Prime off when you corrode the Prime Path with your fucking acidic drool. That, and prismarine is a sometimes treat, not a part of your staple fucking diet. You get fed more than enough, you don’t need to resort to begging people who don’t know any better!”

Vio looks a little surprised at the question. “Chorus fruit salsa. I learned how to make it from some abnormally friendly endermen in exchange for bringing some chorus fruit back for them. I also taught them how to write and say it in common, and taught Capitalist Tommy how to write and say it in Ender. The endermen were having some trouble conveying to him that they wanted it. Given that nobody there speaks Ender aside from possibly Opinionated Ranboo–who remains an enigma after all this time–and that Capitalist Tommy has never been to the End, that was an understandable stumbling block.”

He shrugs, smiling at the memories. “It’s very tasty. Boo agrees, Bee and Toms don’t. Michael refuses to say either way to avoid upsetting either of his dads after the other got incredibly smug about finally emerging victorious in that particular battle. It would be inevitable and the source of another threat of divorce and/or prank war.”

The too-sharp teeth he has himself are shown as his smile turns into a grin. “They’re all chaotic and capable of killing me in my sleep in countless ways if they felt the need, but…I’m happy. I’ve seen what I would have been like if I never ended up here. Whatever reason I was pulled here for, even if it was for the multiverse travel I was forcibly enlisted into…? I’m glad for it. I like my life, I like helping people. I like being friends and co-workers with Day and Theo in spite of their insanity.”

A soft laugh is let out as he rolls his eyes again. With an amused tone he adds, “For all that Day tells me I act like a dad, he spends an awful lot of time acting like a child. I swear to Prime, I’m in possession of roughly four fifths of the self control between the three of us. The last fifth is usually held onto by Day, though sometimes Theo grabs it for a few brief, blessed moments. But, well, I can’t really think of anyone more capable to do this with. Theo’s reputation is well earned--and he had people scrambling to try and buy info on any sort of weakness he might have despite him being blind. Day, meanwhile, is…more or less the people person of the group. That, and makes sure Theo doesn’t just wander off for whatever he thinks sounds fun. It’s still baffling that he’s made a game out of spotting Purpleds. It’s even more baffling that he usually loses said game.”

Hero’s eyes open again as Vio smiles slightly smugly. “And then me? I’m the one who helps cement that yes, us being there. That, and team doctor. I can fight if I need to, but I tend to prefer healing. It’s more of a challenge–it’s so much harder to fix something than to break it.”

The not-dog at his side huffs yet again. Vio blinks down at him. “...You’re right, I’m rambling. It’s a bad habit.”

============= Theo blinks a little at the question, hands pausing in their motion. Day’s do as well; they’re both doing dishes with Lee, the family meal done with and everyone back in their own houses.

Lee looks between them, then his eyes light up a little. “New question? What is it?” Day tells him, “Apparently they want to know our favorite food. That’s a little hard for me, even if it’s a normal question. Again–living on raw potatoes for around a year will sort of…make you appreciate literally anything edible and non-poisoned. Though, honestly, if the poison was hidden well enough I probably wouldn’t care about that part.”

Theo reaches over to smack his arm and glare at him. Day frowns a little at him, then Lee hits him as well. “No! No talking about your own death like that, Dad. I’ll drag you to Techno myself if I need to.” He stops, looks aside, and adds, “...I’ll keep the hiding the poison thing in mind, though.” After another beat he abruptly looks back at his surprised family members. “Not for you, Dad. Or Theo, probably.” “Probably?!”

The outraged cry is met by the youngest family member rolling his eyes. “I know what you’re like and make no promises that you won’t make me mad enough to poison you. Don’t worry, I’ll make it non lethal. Or, okay–if it is lethal, it will at least be quick.”

Day finally breaks into loud, teakettle laughter, smacking the counter with one hand and trying to breathe. “Oh PRIME, that’s amazing–I wish I was recording!” Theo turns his offended, disbelieving look to his dad, hands flying up in offense. “What the fuck?! What did I do!?”

Lee squints at him and asks slowly “...Do you want that list in alphabetical order, or chronological…?”

That only seems to set Day off even more, the immortal now leaning against the counter in an attempt to stay halfway upright. Theo glares at him, flipping him off. He gives his little brother a stern look, and is met by raised eyebrows. “...You’re getting awfully fuckin’ sassy for someone who shares a house with me.” Day manages to compose himself enough to say, “No retaliation for that! We’re encouraging hiss sass, not stifling it!”

Day’s verdict is met by a squawk of further offense. “You biased asshole–!” “I’d also turn the full fury of my small army back towards you, Theo, soooooo–” The laughter from their dad dies abruptly, the man straightening and pointing at his youngest. “No threatening to use the Swords and Shields for nefarious and/or revenge based reasons. They shouldn’t be helping you with anything like pranks or mayhem. We’re trying to show new people that you’re not evil. Using the people who have sworn to protect and defend you to help you mercilessly crush your siblings under your heel does not help sell people who are already iffy about a Dream raising two other Dreams, one of whom has an army.”

The pair of wings at Lee’s back slump a little as he scowls. “Fun policeeee…”

Day rolls his eyes a little. “Just like Dee, you don’t get to engage in quote-unquote fun that drains the sanity of others. Less trauma for new people, not more. They get a grace period before they can be pranked for a reason, Achilles.”

Theo crows, “Hah! Sucks to be you, tiny bro–” “You’d have been worse with a sworn army when you were his age, so don’t be a smug asshole,” Day interjects, only raising his eyebrows when Theo takes a deep inhale like he’s going to protest more.

The warrior’s wings slump as he admits, “...Yeah, yeah I would’ve been. Fuck.”

“Exactly,” Day says as he starts scrubbing again. “The answer to the question is that while I’ll eat damn near anything, I do like things that are fresh. I learned to cook halfway to feed my four gremlins, halfway to really enjoy that I was able to do so. I did have some…mishaps, sure–” Theo cuts in, “He gave us food poisoning on more than one occasion! That, or made something very fuckin’ inedible that he somehow didn’t notice was fuckin’ stomach churning!”

Lee whips around to stare at his dad, who shrugs. “I was a street kid, then I relied on either crafted food or my friends, then I went into my second life and spent about two decades wandering. I didn’t really have to cook until I was adopted by your brothers. Sometimes I was also trying to use someone else’s memories to make something without understanding how or why things worked. I then tried to translate whatever Phil used to different portion sizes and with different ingredients. It’s also–first of all, I never directly tasted pretty much any of it. Memories of food and what food actually tastes like are very different things. Second of all, sometimes the memories don’t quite…sync up right.”

Theo is staring too, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he finally says, “...That explains a whole fuckin’ lot about how shit you were at cooking, actually.” Day points at the sink to get Theo to start helping again. He does so as his dad agrees, “Yeah, no, turns out it helps to know what the fuck everything is doing in a recipe before you start tinkering with it. Books helped a lot.”

“Holy shit you did start getting better after we got you a stack of them didn’t you,” Theo gasps, eyes wide with realization. “Prime, how do you keep finding new ways to make everything make sense?!”

Day makes a face. “I mean…you’re a little oblivious sometimes, so…” “Why are you bullying me?! What did I fuckin’ do?!” The cry of dismay is met with a deadpan look from his dad, who hands the plate to his youngest so it can be dried. “Theseus Was-Taken, you have never, not once in your fucking life, not taken every single chance to be a chaotic little gremlin without a lot of incentive involved. I can and will take any chance I get to repay you for a fraction of the headaches you caused me while you and your brothers were growing up.”

Lee says reproachfully, “Yeah, you’re the reason the no murder at the table rule is in place.” “I don’t do anything! This is discrimination–!” Day cuts off the protest with a laugh and says, “No, this is your crimes being laid at your feet. All of your brothers have dove across the table mid-dinner to attempt to stab you with whatever utensil is in their hand. Perce wielding a spoon was memorable. Alarming, but memorable”

There’s a scoff as Theo hands another plate to his little brother. “Lee hasn’t–” “I’ve been tempted a few times. Also, it’s too predictable and I’m not good enough yet; I have to be sneakier.”

The other two look at the youngest, who beams at them.

“...I forget you’re a Dream sometimes, and then you say things like that and remind me all over again,” Day finally says after a few beats, and then resumes scrubbing. “You’re right, though. If your opponent is stronger physically, find ways around that. Raw strength and skill with a weapon are pretty much never the only tools you can use. There are so many ways to defeat others–”

Lee perks up, interjecting, “Like diplomacy or stealth!” Day grins. “Yes, exactly. You can also avoid making enemies in the first place, or making yourself into someone they can’t reasonably go after without losing far more than they’d gain. Victory isn’t always about killing others, it’s about getting the outcome you wanted or needed. Actual murder shouldn’t be your first option in most cases.” He abruptly looks over at Theo. “You never answered the question, by the way.”

Theo blinks at him, leaning against the counter as he waits to be handed another dish to put up. “Hmm?” “The food question; it was for all of us.”

He frowns a little at the reminder, not sure when he got distracted enough to forget that. “Oh. Huh. Uh–I like the cookies from fuckin’ Opinionated Ranboo world. That place might be real fuckin’ weird but they sure as fuck know how to make cookies. Out of all of them, though, the best are butterscotch.”

Lee gasps in outrage, nearly shoving the plate he had just dried at him. “Fuck you, the oatmeal chocolate chip are clearly the best ones–” Theo takes it and laughs, “Hah! Tiny brother, you know not what you speak of!” “I’ll end you, Theo, don’t fucking test me–”

Day cuts them off, eyes narrowing at them. “Children, I’d really rather not have to mop blood up in the kitchen when Lee grabs the nearest knife–don’t think I didn’t see you looking at them, Achilles–and Theo can’t bring himself to actually defend against his little brother.”

Both of them look a little guilty at being correctly called out, even as Day continues, “Any further attempts to start this argument again will be met with being grounded and/or stuck in time out. I can and will drag your other brothers back over here to mercilessly mock you or inform the Swords and Shields that you’re not allowed to go out for the day, respectively.”