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"You know exactly why I'm asking you."
Grian glared at Xisuma for a moment, then huffed. "I do now."
"You're doing that more this season."
"And?"
"It's good to see you comfortable in your own skin."
Grian huffed again, this time with a small smile. "Right, I'll see you on Saturday?"
“Of course.”
“I don’t want your pity.” Tommy blurted, completely out of left field.
“Good, you don’t have it.” Grian didn’t even look up from his attempt at baking.
“I don’t want anyone’s pity, I’m a fucking adult.”
Grian continued to overwork the dough. “We’re being polite.”
“You all tiptoe around me like I’m some sort of charity case.”
Grian paused, staring blankly for a few moments. “It’s not because you’re a charity case.”
“Oh, you don’t even try to deny that you’re all weird with me. If it’s not pity, what?”
“You aren’t a hermit. You broke onto our server, had a panic attack, and passed out.” Grian said. He was now staring at the cookie dough as if it would answer all of life’s biggest mysteries.
“But you let me stay here.” Tommy huffed. "You're all, nice and shit. You overworked the dough."
"I see that." Grian said then he muttered under his breath. "Try again-"
"I don't want your pity." Tommy blurted, completely out of left field.
Grian put down the dough before he could mess it up. "No one pities you here."
"Then why do you all…. Why are you all nice and shit? You tiptoe like I'm some sort of fucking… Fucking charity case. I'm an adult."
"Because you're a stranger. How about this…" Grian paused for a moment, staring into space. "What if I threw Scar in a hole to the void as a joke? Repeatedly."
"What the fuck."
"What if Doc and Ren started a murder cult and went round collecting people's severed heads?"
"That doesn't sound-"
"Or Scar ripped out someone's throat with his teeth? For fun. Ate their still-warm remains."
"Scar wouldn't-"
Grian laughed at that, but continued. "What if Iskall was an assassin?"
"She isn't."
"Not anymore." Grian seemed happier than he'd been the entire time Tommy had known him. "Cleo collects severed heads for her sculptures."
"Animal heads."
"Hermit heads too. She's set up competitions with cash prizes for whoever brought her the most heads."
"You're making things up. You're such a wrongun, they're going to hate you when I tell them about this slander."
And biscuits were put in the oven. "I think they'll laugh."
"I'll tell Scar. Where is he."
"He and Cub are eating breakfast in the basement." Grian said.
Tommy scrambled off.
There, in the basement, Scar and Cub were drenched in blood, claws on full display, tearing apart the corpse of… someone. Tommy ran straight into Grian, who was still extremely amused.
"Believe me now?"
"They're monsters. They're-"
"Vex. Scar and Cub are Vex."
"You're just- wait til everyone else hears this."
"You think they don’t know?"
Tommy scrambled away, backing up against the wall. "What is wrong with you- what-"
"We're not called hermits for no reason, Thomas."
"This isn't happening…"
Grian sighed. "Do you want me to make your memory of this all go away? We can try again in a few weeks."
"What?"
"This isn't the first time you've found out, we're not exactly subtle."
"No, no, you'll use it to hurt-"
"And we're going back."
"I don't want your pity." Tommy said, completely out of left field.
Grian removed his hands from the biscuit mix with a huff, "I know. But we're not giving you pity, we're giving you kindness."
"You call tiptoeing around me kindness?"
"We're called hermits for a reason. We're adjusting to you as much as you're adjusting to us." Grian glanced to the side and laughed. "Can you blame me- yes, yes, I'm sorry, I'll stop. For now."
"Grian?"
"Siblings. Pearl's upset with me."
"How do you know?"
"We have… it's not telepathy, or anything like that. But we have an open line of communication with our magic."
"What magic?"
Grian chuckled, "that. Is a secret from most of the hermits."
Tommy glared, "what kind of answer is that?"
"It's my answer."
"Hello, Tommy." Pearl said, playful smile on her face.
"What are you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean like. Species and shit. Grian wouldn't tell me what he is."
Pearl rocked on her feet, contemplating. "What do you think he is?"
"I don't fucking know - I wouldn't be asking if I did. But he said. He said you were siblings."
"He's adopted." Pearl beckoned Tommy to follow her upstairs.
"Fuck."
"I think..." Pearl stared at her bookshelf for all of a minute before she grabbed the book she was apparently after. "Here we go, the 73rd edition player species encyclopedia."
"What."
"I'm not telling you anything. But there's nothing to stop you figuring this stuff out for yourself."
"Thank you?"
"Thank Grian, he's replacing it if you ruin it." She paused for a moment and laughed.
"What?"
"Grian's yelling at me."
"It says here that 'vex players, like their mob counterparts, see no issue with cannibalising other players, vex or otherwise.' And it's… there's like... someone's written here in red pen saying netherborn players taste weird."
"I still don't think Pearl should have given you that." Grian said.
"Get this - 'on infinite respawn worlds, vex often consume their immediate family' and I just. How can they do that?"
"It's possessiveness. How much closer to someone can you get than eating them. Making them a part of yourself."
"Why are you so calm about this?"
"Infinite respawn, it doesn't matter to me if Scar eats me."
Tommy dropped the book, "Scar… what..? Are you okay-"
"Scar is a vex. I'm his husband."