Hi softy! Question for you my dear guy. Is there something in the world you are in that you would miss the most when you would potentially return to your home universe?
He got the flu, of course... A bit of rain and keeping wet clothes on for too long were enough to make him burn up in a high fever and be too weak to even sit properly without help. Now, Dust is no medical professional, but considering everything, both him and the gang are pretty sure that after a bit of rest Horror will be fine; he wouldn't dust THAT easily after all, he's stubborn.
Horrors absence on daily chores is the problem... He cooked for the gang, which is an indispensable task that they'd have to figure out together, and it's not going too well.
— What the hell am I looking at.
Dust spoke up as he was served a plate of Killer's special recipe. To everyone's disgust but no one's surprise, it looked like an amalgamation of a thousand other different dishes and had a weird color that food shouldn't have. Poking it with a spoon, Dust grimaced; it's somehow gelatinous and humid.
— Today's dinner of course, eat up!
Killer would try to nudge the plate closer to Dust, only to have his hand slapped away roughly.
— You should've let me cook.
Dust spoke up again pushing the plate away from himself, unfortunately accidentally touching a bit of that weird mass with his finger, immediately wiping it on a napkin with pure disgust painted in his face. Damn Horror and his horrible timing for getting sick out of nowhere...
— You'd burn down the kitchen, hell no.
Killed huffed and ate a spoonful of his own food while the others at the table grimaced in disgust.
— Anything is better than... Than this MASS.
Dust then got up sighing and pulling back his sleeves, heading to the kitchen counter already.
— Eat what you want... I'll cook something decent for Horror, he can't eat this, he'll die faster.
Killer then hissed in offense.
— What are you doing then? It's not like YOU know any recipes!
It's true, he really doesn't, he didn't cook too much in his life, there's no denying it, but he's way better than Killer at frying an egg without turning it into eldritch burnt mass or... Whatever that thing in his plate was.
*Tap tap*
Across the table Nightmare tapped on the wook quietly, catching their attention quickly as he showed a recipe book with an old, dark leather case.
— Horror's recipe book... Did you ask for it?
Cross questioned, not daring to even look at the book. Nightmare shook his head in a simple no, implying he stole it just like that.
— Then pray.
Killer huffed, making the silent dark skeleton frown in confusion.
— Horror hates it when we touch his stuff; specially that book, don't lose it, okay?
Cross warned getting up, not sparing anyone there a second glance before he left to continue his nighttime routine. Dust sighed at Nightmare's newfound nervousism, after all he just found out he touched something he shouldn't.
— Whatever, give me that, I'll make something random from it then hide it for you.
With a small nod, he received the thick book, it smelled faintly of different herbs, the pages yellowish with age, a few stained with food droplets while others were almost unreadable due to oil stains, blurring out the ink from the pen used.
Horror's handwriting was ugly, letters and numbers blent into each other, some were obviously scribbled too quickly, others didn't even look like letters... Nothing a bit of effort couldn't help understand.
While Dust tried to understand whatever was written on a soup's page, Nightmare hoovered by, staring at the pan and then at the pages.
— It says "onion".
He mumbled pointing at where Dust had stopped understanding the letters completely. He somehow understood it, which is not too surprising since Horror teached him how to write when he got there... Nightmare must have gotten used to the messy letters and learned to understand it.
— Onion it is then...
Dust sighed, going to cut up an onion while Nightmare stared at the book before slowly making his way along the kitchen to pick up the stuff written in it, leaving it all on the counter for Dust. The help was silently appreciated and soon enough when they were done, the book was hidden away in one of the kitchen's drawers, intact for only Horror to find when he got better.
While the soup wasn't perfect, it was edible, much better than whatever Killer made earlier... Horror didn't ask how they knew his recipe but he clearly recognized it, just didn't have enough energy to confront someone right now.
— How do you feel?
Dust asks as he soaked another towel in cold water, pressing it to Horror burning bones while he ate.
— 'm fine...
His raspy voice and weak tone expressed otherwise.
— You don't LOOK fine, Horror, the bags under your eyes are deeper.
— Well not my fault I can't sleep for more than thirty minutes without getting woken up by someone to make sure I'm not dead, is it?
After that snarky response, silence filled the room for a while, only getting cut off by the sound of the door opening, soon enough Nightmare was standing before them, probably drawn in by the downcast energy in Horror's mood.
— Hey little guy, how are you doing?
Horror gently asked, trying not to get too harsh with someone again. Nightmare didn't answer, only reached to touch Horror's forehead before quickly stepping back, getting scared at the sudden sneeze that almost hit him.
— Sorry- don't stand too close or else you'll get sick too...
Still not happy with the sneeze, he hid behind Dust in a way to not be "attacked" anymore.
— I'm surprised Killer made such decent food.
Horror said looking at his now empty bowl of vegetable soup.
— He didn't, I did.
Dust retorted with a sigh, his stomach churning just by thinking about Killer's cooking.
— I thought it was Killer's turn today?
— it was, he didn't make anything edible so I made something else...
With that Nightmare nods quietly, showing that even a negative blob could not stand the sight of that thing.
— Ah... Well, tastes nice, thanks for the care.
Horror praised patting Dust's shoulder weakly, a nice, warm moment that got interrupted by a quiet sneeze behind Dust.
IMPORTANT question, would Softmare be terrified if another Nightmare (a chiller one but still an evil one) ate a raccoon? Once again. VERY important this is needed for the people’s sake
Not that I want them hurt, but other than OG everyone seems nice (Dream is mostly traumatized/in denial, so doesn't count). Soooo... is there anyone actually mean to softie just because? Or trying to use his bread eating self to do some harm?
Not exactly trying to cause him harm... But Ink can be pretty mean if Softie asks him about going home (mf laughed at his face and called his idea stupid)
Now mean MEAN, maybe Fell? I don't think he'd like having Softie around himself even after proving his innocence
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