2021-04-06 - Babes in Toyland

"Det her er simpelthen for langt ude..." It's a vaguely exasperated murmur from a plastic figurine sitting on one of those shelves. One might argue that it is an accented murmur -- except, one might then have to decide whether it's considered accented when whatever is being said is being said in the language that the accent originates from. Regardless, the message is clear enough -- this is absurd. The plastic Sesame Street Count is not impressed.

It gets up -- and nearly trips on its plastic cape -- to look around, hands on hips. It looks around. It blinks. It removes its monocle and looks around once more, with better eyesight. It does not look any less unimpressed. "Of all the insane things the Veil has thrown at me so far..."

... "Okay, but why." comes from nearby, as the Barbie doll nearby sits up, bringing one hand up to touch a face that is entirely made of plastic... rather than merely augmented with a tasteful selection of fillers.

"Ravn? Are you... an actual muppet?" the doll tilts her head, painted eyes somehow looking amused , before looking down at her pale blue dress and gold jewelry. "Also... who gives a child a doll like this? I am a collector's item."

"I think I am a plastic figure copy of a muppet," the Count confirms in a tone half exasperated, half amused. "I don't think I actually ever even watched Sesame Street. I'm supposed to be a -- count who counts? With a Romanian accent? I suppose I can be a count with a Danish accent, I have some experience with that at least." He reaches up with a hand that is not gloved, and then winces because it is indeed not gloved, and the sensation of skin against teeth was unexpected. "Also, I think I am a vampire? A very -- child friendly vampire. I probably drink tomato juice."

The plastic toy turns to look at the Barbie doll. "And you are -- Perdita, right? Except in the Mattel version. I don't know about you but I already severely dislike this. Skin should not feel like it's made from plastic."

Alison grunts softly. But her voice isn't quite right. It's.. softer? Almost plushlike? What? It takes her a few moments to regain her senses, but before too long, she's sitting up from where she'd apparently been tossed on the floor. Chubby head, obnoxiously red yarn pigtails for hair, freckles all over her face - the waitress has apparently woken up as a Cabbage Patch Kid. Which.. shape of her head aside, isn't TOO different, but the outmoded paisley patterned dress she's wearing is most definitely not how she usually dresses.

The realization has her sighing deeply, no longer needing to breathe aside, then muttering to herself. "Of course.. you say that you haven't had anything weird happen to you for a bit, and then you wake up in one of these stupid things again looking like something left in the dumpster at Goodwill." She looks around the room, pigtails shaking as her head turns, and she soon spots Ravn, looking quite ridiculous yet fitting as the Count. She'd smirk if she was able to, but the grin plastered on her face by way of stitching doesn't quite allow for that. And then to Perdita who - she doesn't know? Which, of course, raises the question of if they're an actual person, or just a figment of whatever the hell this is.

"A bad parody of Bela Lugosi's accent, I think. And yes, it's Perdita, in the flesh. Well. Plastic." the doll makes a little moue of annoyance, moving to stand on her ridiculously misproportioned legs and tiny feet, balancing on the gold plastic heels as if they were her regular mode of walking. Which, considering the shoes she normally wears? They might be.

"You could have at least let me be the Wonder Woman Barbie." she gestures at one of the other dolls, then spots the ambulatory Cabbage Patch Kid. "Oh, hey, we have company. And vaguely terrifying, vaguely adorable company, at that."

"Whoa. Whoa!" That is the sound of Kailey comes too as she holds her...hands up. They do still look like hand even if the rest of her is definitely robotic. With ball joints and wing-like protrusions from her plastic back. Painted in pink and white she looks robotic, despite having white wheels that appear to be trying to be hair-buns on her head. A bulk of pink rests on her back. "What...what is on my back?" She asks as she stands up with an odd 'clomp clomping' that belongs in movies. "AH! Am I a freaking Transformer?" Yes, that would be excitement in the young mother's voice as she turns this way and that, trying to figure out her various bits.

Then a compartment pops open and she lets out a yelp of surprise. Peering down at her open chest showing various internal parts that help in the plastic transformation process. Gripping the piece she opens and closes it with amusement before shutting it and looking over at the other two animated toys. The smile on her plastic face can't be mistaken for any others than Kailey's. "Well, this is pretty cool. At least we don't have to eat in this guise," She points out to the other two while somehow turning her robotic painted face into a scrunched up displeasure.

The form on the bed shifts and rolls over. It is a child and they blink their eyes open, scanning their room in a sleepy fashion.

"What's wrong with you idiots? Freeze!" Comes a harsh whisper from a nearby purple My Little Pony with darker purple and pink hair and a unicorn's horn.

Count Elmo von Abildgaard opens his plastic mouth and then shuts it again, staring at the unicorn pony, at the transformer, and at the cabbage patch doll. "Alison, from the Diner?" he mouths somewhat more quietly. "Kailey?"

At least one person present seems to know all three women from previous occasions. But then, Ravn Abildgaard is kind of that bloke whose name everybody knows these days. Not because he is an important figurehead or a leader of men -- more because he's some guy who apparently doesn't do a whole lot of working to pay his bills, and hangs around in bars and public places a lot. Also, much as he claims he doesn't like attention -- if he really meant that, he shouldn't flounce about in all black all the time, people remember things like that.

He sends the unipony another monocled look and adds, in a whisper, "But I don't recognise you."

Alison starts to spout off back to Perdita with some witty retort, but finds herself interrupted by Kailey's exclamations. "..huh. I've always wondered what it would be like to be a robot. Of course I get made up like a damn clown. But you're.. Everett's dude, or something?" She flops back down to the ground, making further noises of annoyance at the present situation.

Up until the relatively giant kid starts moving around, and the pony gets the wherewithal to start giving orders. "Bronies are still a thing? Did we get sent back in time too? See enough of those weirdos online as it is. Ugggggh." She's not moving around much, but she's certainly not quiet either. Save for a vague wave back towards Ravn, anyways. "Yeah, the diner."

"I'd accuse you of being a manwhore but I know you aren't." Dita whispers to Ravn as she freezes, leaned back against the shelf, because everyone knows Barbies can't stand unless they're ON a stand or leaned against something... right?

Still, at least she freezes, not speaking, not blinking or even moving her eyes, expression frozen in the lifeless uncanny valley that is Barbie... though she's looking off to the side, watching the child through her painted eyes.

Ravn tries to move forward -- very carefully because as he soon discovers, he is not blessed with mobile joints. This means he has to kind of waddle by shifting his weight so that one leg falls forward and then the other -- and he probably is going to spend a substantial amount of time face down if he doesn't get it exactly right. "Ah, but I have all the sex appeal of cheap plastic, a cape with red lining, and purple hands with only three fingers," he murmurs, also somewhat quietly.

And then, kitty cat.

Is he Moe? He might be -- he vaguely remembers that the Sesame Street Count's name is Elmo von Count. He's not sure where he picked that tidbit of information up -- probably some student essay on vampire folklore. He's pretty certain that Kitty Kitty is the creature down there which has entirely too many teeth to be named Kitty Kitty. And he should know -- he lives with the Kitty Pryde whom the Veil used to unleash an entire batch of too-many-teeth murderous kittens on Gray Harbor.

Finding women in dumpsters who have been chewed to death by kittens does tend to instill a certain healthy respect for kittens.

And.

He remembers something else about those kittens and gives Kitty Kitty there a very long, hard look. "I really hope that Moe is me and not you," the Dane says at length -- and if he sounds scared it's probably because he is.

Alright. If one of this lot is going to tell her to shut it, that's one thing, but another one is joining in as well, that probably means that it's something worth paying attention to. Especially once that cat with a maw full of far too many teeth starts waking up. This time, actually quietly, she whispers, "Toy Story.. ah, hell. I don't remember a cat with that many teeth from the movies." At which point, the Alison Patch Doll starts to get real still. Especially since she's not exactly super mobile either, having to turn her whole body to even look around.

"What the hell is that?" Perdita whispers, barely audible as she continues to lean, perfectly still. The others might not be too concerned but clearly the young Latina is... though she's not moving to see anything. Who knows what happens if they see them moving, or hear them talking?

Kailey is just kind of dumstruck at this point. Ogling the toys coming to life, the cat on the floor, and her friends. "Dudes...I just...this is so -cool-," She squeaks quietly. Before moving slowly towards the edge of the shelf herself. Moe is eyed and she pauses. "I know that cat..."

Does anyone have the first damn idea what's going on here? Ravn mouths in the general direction of his fellow toys. He tries to decide on whether to strategically fall off the shelf -- to follow the Kim-doll which seems like it might know what it's doing -- or stay the hell put where he is, thank you very much, where Moe the hell kitten might not have noticed him yet. Right now his spirit animal is something small and squeaky destined to come to a quick and messy end, and he definitely is not enjoying that premonition at all.

"That's... definitely Moe," he murmurs back to Kaileyformer (Transkailey has the wrong message, somehow) so very quietly that only other toys can hear (he really hopes). "That thing... is not a cat," he adds for the benefit of Perdita and Alison, perhaps. "It's... a Veil thing that thinks it's a cat."

The Alison Patch Kid sits back up, bending over awkwardly at the waist as she struggles to get onto her feet, since they seem to have the green light to move around at will now - at least as far as the pony is concerned. "Yeah, that thing's got a lot of teeth in his mouth. I don't think we wanna piss him off."

She awkwardly turns towards Perdita, pivoting on stuffed feet. "Any chance you've got treats on you? He looks a bit hungry."

"Toy...tastrophe. I had one of those, once, with an entirely different kind of toy." Perdita mutters, staring back at the yellow eyed cat. She sighs, "Great, now even actual Barbie dolls are being snotty with me." she follows the other Barbie, however, suddenly grateful for her apparent articulation considering what poor Ravn is having to deal with.

"The only treats I have at the moment aren't the sort of thing a cat will appreciate, I can assure you."

"How do we administer the Dream Dust, Doctor?" she snarks at the other Barbie, absently wondering if dollicide is a thing.

"Which mother," Count Elmo von Abildgaard up there murmurs very quietly to Kaileyformer. "My cat or yours? Bloody hard to tell the two apart given they're technically the same damn cat."

He sighs and edges towards the edge. Plastic can't get hurt from falling off a shelf, right? He really hopes -- really, really hopes, because by now Ravn knows very well that damage sustained in these dreams is real. Then he takes the plunge.

The plink of a small plastic toy hitting the carpet is not very impressive. But plastic does indeed not break that easily, and for that at least, His little Plastic Lordship is eternally grateful.

Alison shoots Perdita a Look. Does she mean.. no, that's ridiculous. "Okay, if you wanna be a pain in the ass, cat.."

Alison Patch Kid's first impulse is to consider the obstacle in front of her as an animal control problem. Which, okay, yeah, it sure looks like a cat, but with bonus teeth. She attempts to reach out with her mind to 'politely' ask it to move out of the way', but.. no, that's most definitely not a cat. Not really. Which leaves her with the simpler option, really. Brute force! Which is a torrent of emotions. And when it comes to a cat? A great way of getting a cat to move in a hurry is to offer treats, which she's all out of at the moment. Instead, why not try scaring the everloving bejesus out of this thing?

Her eyes squint a little as she makes her best effort to send a nice satisfying jolt of fear towards the cat. This is a good idea, right? Not one that will involve being on the receiving end of claws? Yes?

"I was supposed to... of course I was supposed to. Well, what the fork does it look like, you body dysmorphia inducing hunk of plastic? You know you're the reason I thought I was fat until I was like sixteen, right?" She snarks down at the other doll, ignoring the fact that she, also, is a hunk of plastic shaped like some vaguely disturbing ideal of womanhood. She's not going to climb down until she's got this dream dust they're needing, because she's fairly certain they can't move on without it.

At the utterance of That Name, Perdita brings her tiny plastic hands to her ears, not that it actually helps...

"Like this?" Ravn von Lugosi tries to say around a face full of carpet. "I hate it already. And I am a cat person when I'm not being a plastic aristocrat."

He flails in the attempt to get back to a vertical position. Mobile limbs really would be useful here. "Does anyone actually know this story? What is this dream dust?"

Hello, Ravn. The kid is awake. And you're flopping around on the carpet like a landed trout, talking. Great presence of mind there.

The cat being loud and waking the ur-child was.. not quite a factor that Alison had considered. Oops. "..okay, so maybe that wasn't quite the right move, there." She turns to assess the situation, and opts to start waddling in Ravn's direction. "Looks like you might need a hand." Upon arriving on the scene of the Count's impact, she (rather ungracefully) bends over to try to pick him back up.

"... yes. You're fat, unlike me... we have the same body." she hisses, barely audible, before using the jump rope method to get down, herself, sliding down the rope and landing as if it's something she's done before... albeit not in a plastic form.

"Uh... does anybody else see that?" she whispers, gesturing toward the closet door.

"If you're gonna Dream Dust the kid, girl, get on it."

Little Lord Plasticravn is helped upright by Cabbage Patch Alison, a fact which he is not at all sorry about. He manages to murmur a 'thank you' before suddenly, there is a very audible reminder as to one of the reasons he is not a father -- kids are loud. Veil kids, it seems, are just capable of screeching up a room as their real world counterparts.

Granted, it takes two people to have kids anyway, but theoretically. He's thirty, he could have been a father if he wanted to be.

He winces and stares at the child with an obvious mix of terror and dislike. This is a very big child from his perspective. It's clearly not a human child. Its screams are making plastic bleed, and he'd swear he's feeling his plastic eardrums pop. He tries to run for the dust -- whatever the heck that's supposed to be or do. This is a very awkward endeavour for somebody whose idea of running is to sway from side to side and hope he is falling in the right general direction.

In other words, he's supposed to be European gentry, and he's about as useful as you'd expect from those.

Having assisted Ravn up to his feet, such as they are, Alison finds herself waylaid by the scream. "Ow. Ow." The second time's a little indignant, almost as if it carried an implied meaning for someone being quite rude to stop doing whatever rude thing it is that they're doing. And little #(*#&$$NO CARRIER up there's probably not going to catch her meaning.

Her stuffed hands go right to her ears -- Cabbage Patch Kids don't have ears, do they? Well, where the ears would generally be, anyways -- to try and shut out the sound as it invades her mind, rather than do something actually useful. "Augh!"

Of course that's all the further it goes. Kim gets a withering look from Perdollta, and she takes off running toward Ravn and the dust... but then there's that screaming sound, and she stumbles to one wonderfully articulated knee before rushing toward the dust again. "This is gonna suck, isn't it?"

And with that, she reaches out her mind toward the Dream Dust, psychically yeeting it at Twilight.

If there is justice in the world, somebody is going to die. Because one little person shares Ravn's bed in the Airstream, and that little person does not approve of a sudden glitter shower. Given that this little person is -- or once was -- Moe's mum, Moe is probably a very lucky Veil creature that he's over there and she's over here.

Ravn, of course, is not that lucky. He's going to both be picking glitter out of his hair for a week and trying to appease Kitty Pryde with superfluous amounts of tuna lest next week's headline be Glitter Using Crafters Found In Dumpsters All Over the PNW.

Alison wakes up in her own trailer by herself. Nobody to disturb with glitter, but there's still glitter. In her bed. She just had to open her mouth about things being relatively normal for her, didn't she?

A gasp from Perdita, and she sits upright quickly, clutching her sheets to her chest, looking down at her hands to make sure they're, in fact, made of flesh once more, before glancing over at the muscular form in bed beside her, asleep on his stomach. She forcibly controls her breathing, leaning back against the headboard.

The man beside her groans, rolling to open one eye and glance up at her. "Hey. What's your name, anyway?" she asks, working to control the shakiness in her voice.