Mikey allowed himself a moment to take in his surroundings, quiet and smiling as his eyes flitted along every inch of Puck's home. He'd developed a bit of a fascination with seeing how people decorated their residences once his family had befriended April, eager to explore living spaces which differed from the sewers he'd spent his whole life in. It was a different world to him, always had been, and while he always made the most of his place under the city streets, he couldn't deny that a topside place was something special.

Puck's house was like him, pleasant and cozy, inviting. It looked well cared for, a space he'd made for himself against the backdrop of the world he'd been taken to. Everybody had worlds they'd been taken from and Puck had seemingly made the most of his little slice in the odd dream realm they'd been led to. For as far away as his true home was, the one he'd stitched together in the present seemed as good as one might hope for. Mikey hadn't done much of anything with the treehouse, but he found himself thinking it'd be good to take a page out of his friend's book. Perhaps he could get his hands on some paint and spruce the walls up a little.

"Some snacks would be awesome. I'm pretty much a bottomless pit. Think it's the whole growing teenager thing. I've almost always got room for good eats."

Michelangelo made way to the kitchen, taking a glance at the tomatoes Puck had set to boil, and imagining how good the sauce would taste. New York new pizza, but there was always something special about homemade.

"Anything I can do to help? I'm a pro at mincing garlic and chopping basil."