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Well, there goes the cereal, scattered across the counter and bouncing down onto the floor in colorful sugar-charged clumps. That was the last of the frosted fruity-puffs, too. Nightshade only took a moment to mourn the loss of his breakfast, weary head turning to face his still-little sibling. To be fair, he did look pretty frightening, his hair a rumpled mess and bags under his eyes. Every joint in his body ached and his face showed it. Growing up suddenly in the middle of the night took a toll no one warned him about, and he felt very irritated by that.

"Calm. Deep breaths. The horror before you is your loving brother." He managed a tired smile just for Labyrinth- she was a bombshell of over-enthusiasm, and Nightshade himself preferred quietness, but he couldn't help but find her endearing when most loud foals would just be annoying. Augh, he's already talking like an adult and he's barely been one for four hours. Must be hardwired into the nanites.

The stallion stood very placidly, content to let his little sister mess with his face and poke at him everywhere she pleased. Rambunctious little tyke. Also because Nightshade still felt like reheated death. Like refried beans that had one too many visits to the microwave. Or delicious fruity cereal that was now firmly crushed into the linoleum. C’est la vie, dear sugary breakfast ‘food’.

“Last night. And bullshit science magic, just like my pretend bullshit alchemy magic. Except nannies are effective, and no amount of rose petals in a bottle will make anyone fall in love. Unless they’re nanite roses, and I’m pretty sure a love potion made out of that would be illegal. Well… more illegal than selling something to someone claiming it will have dubiously legal effects, than actually selling them something with actually has dubious effects.” Waffles it is! They’re the lazy man’s pancake.

Reaching the top cupboards by himself is great, he takes back anything negative he said before about being Old Enough. Not a problem getting the waffle mix and waffle iron down.

“Chocolate chips or blueberries? Might as well feed you too, since you saw fit to slay my breakfast.”

"Hate to break it to you, kiddo," god it was fun being all big and patronizing- not that he hadn't been patronizing before, just now he was big enough to enforce that he knew more than Laby and be smug about it, too, "But Fanta's all big now, too. She's off outside somewhere, being gorgeous." He was still mildly annoyed how great she had looked fresh from the whole-body ******** that was magical-science overnight puberty. His joints ached. Joints he didn't even know could ache were aching.

At least he had waffles.

"And yes, her wings look even better full-sized. s**t's bananas. All I have is this vibe-looking glowstick," waffles were plopped down on a plate in front of his dearest mini sister, ".... Also, don't repeat anything I ever say." True, he'd been kind of vulgar as a child, too. But he'd been nervous about it, voice dopping into a whisper for every 'damn' or 's**t'. He was literally too ******** up to care about it now- but still mildly worried their parents would whoop him into another dimension for teaching Labyrinth 'vibe' or 's**t'.

Orange eyes slowly drag over his waffles. They're the perfect golden-brown, the just-right amount of crispyness and slowly getting soggy with syrup. He was really hungry. His head was still an aching mess. The floor was still a mess. The counter was now also a mess, a buttery-surypy-porcelian-shardy mess. He was an adult now. He should clean up after messes.

...

Fantasia could clean it.

The stallion rolled his head, neck cracking comfortably. He was an adult now, which meant he couldn't roll his eyes at his littlest sister's tantrums or go tattle to their mothers. Being an adult, and a loving older brother, meant leaving his perfect waffle and heading right out that door after frantic hoofprints. Labyrinth needed him, whether she was ready to admit it or not. She'd gas out eventually, and he'd be there right behind her to make sure she hadn't seriously hurt herself.