Tempest struggled to adapt to the situation she found herself in. It could have been a lot easier, or a lot harder, she had to admit to herself. Still, given she was a foal at the moment, she would have preferred to take her chances off the middle ground if possible. Sometimes, though, it seemed like everyone in the household was going out of their way to make things as enjoyable and headache inducing as conceivably possible...
Gru Papa...Papa was helpful enough, she had to admit...even if it did take some getting used to thinking of him that way no matter how easily it came at times. He seemed content to let her make her own way around when she tried to, only stepping in when she couldn't handle herself or when she was on the verge of losing her temper and obliterating something. The one drawback to being so young physically was lacking the adult emotional control she used to have. Losing her temper and throwing a fit happened much more easily and far faster than she liked. Still, Papa seemed quite adept at spotting the building temper flares - even if he was on the opposite side of the house on a completely different floor - and would immediately be at her side to calm her down and help her with whatever she was doing.
After the third time that had happened - with Papa rappelling down the side of the house from the roof before swinging in the open window on the first floor to scoop her out of a mess of spilled jam jars and a tussle with Kyle (a very odd shaped canine that looked like the end result of someone who didn't understand the science getting a hold of a genetic recombinator) - Tempest had begun to get suspicious about how he was able to do so. While he was cleaning her up - with surprising gentleness - she had managed to get his attention. She then expressed what was, unfortunately, a string of accusatory baby babble noises while gesturing from him to her horn.
To her surprise, he had understood perfectly. "You think I had Dr. Nefario install something in your horn replacement to tell me your emotional state, and that's why I'm always here to stop an explosion?" he asked in surprise. When Tempest nodded, he laughed in response. "Tempest, I would never do that to family, and despite my...hesitation on your arrival, you are family. It would be a horrible invasion of your privacy!"
Tempest gave him a flat eyed gaze. Somehow, that didn't really click with how he acted in regards to 'family'. She wouldn't put it past him to implant subdermal GPS tracking chips in all three of the girls and her so he could know where they were at all times without telling them on the grounds of keeping them safe on the off chance one of his old enemies tried to hold them hostage against him. Privacy over safety did not seem to fit his outlook.
His happy, open smile faded a bit under her accusatory expressions. "Eh...besides, Nefario told me a metal tracker would interfere with the energy conduction between the crystal constructs and possibly cause a disruption of the energy fields, resulting in either making your head explode or the accidental generation of a quantum singularity that consumed the entire universe because of a formula error or the chip melting down at the wrong time."
Tempest nodded with a smile. That sounded much more the reasoning Papa should go by.
"So I had him line the house with sensors hooked into the crystal quantum computer downstairs that can read your energy buildups for the instabilities caused by emotional turmoil, and set it up to transmit alerts to me instantly," he continued, holding up a device that had a map of the house on the screen, currently cast in green. Using a finger, he scrolled to the left as the timestamp in the corner rewound, and it ended on the moment when she'd been fighting Kyle. The screen was blinking red, and a "Get Here!" arrow was focused on the kitchen. "Works much better until you outgrow inappropriate temper tantrums."
Tempest couldn't help but be amazed as she looked the device over, following the signals it was giving off to spot the sensors hidden in the walls. She pointed to the nearest one - hidden behind a pair of crossed morning stars - inquisitively.
Gru burst into joyous laughter. "Well aren't you the clever girl!" he praised as he washed the last of the jam out of her tail. Once she was clean, he dried her vigorously with a towel before setting her down on the floor. "Now go play, and don't lose your temper next time Kyle makes a fuss."
Tempest almost wasn't surprised that the Minions had already cleaned up the mess, including Kyle himself. Barry hadn't been kidding about how much they would improve with a focus for their Overthought. From the look on Papa's face, he wasn't sure what to make of it anymore than Tempest was. ...somehow, she found that reassuring.
Kyle was one of the most frustrating aspects of living in the household. The obviously heavily modified canine seemed convinced that - short of Agnes - anything below the level of his odd furry antennae was his indisputably to eat, pee on, shred, chew, or otherwise mangle and destroy whenever it suited him. Unfortunately for Tempest, at her current size the tip of her new horn just barely matching the top of said antennae in height, she was well within Kyle's 'fun to destroy' target range. This proved problematic for the time being, as on top of that Kyle saw her as another 'pet' that was invading his territory. As such, he was more than eager to cause as much trouble for her as he could, and savagely maul her as much as he could when no one was looking.
Fortunately for Tempest, she had two advantages over Kyle that truly tipped things in her favor, once she took Papa's advice about not losing her temper over it. First, she had the Overthought link to the Minions, making it child's play - literally, in this case - to know exactly where Kyle was at all times. And second, being a dog Kyle had no concept of fighting 'dirty'...but Tempest certainly did.
How odd that her greatest advantage of all had been a genre of movies that Starlight Glimmer of all ponies had introduced her to that gave her the perfect combat stratagem to put Kyle in his place...Neighponese Horror. A little cooperation from now more competent - or at least, more disciplined and thus willing to wait until the task was complete before celebrating or making jokes about it - Minions and Kyle knew better than to cross Tempest.
She decided it wasn't her job to explain to Papa or the others why this resulted in Kyle hiding under the nearest piece of furniture or at the top of the nearest suit of armor or armoire the moment she entered a room he was in. If he wanted them to know, he'd find a way to tell them. ...admittedly, she felt Edith had some idea, considering she stifled laughter while watching her smug grin whenever it happened.