2021-11-27 - Unlikely Babysitters

Why hello, welcome to the dream. Hopefully it is convenient for everyone to find themselves in the middle of a beautiful forest meadow. There are little wildflowers here and there. The trees ring the vaguely oblong bit of wild greenery, but not in an ominous way. The sunlight pouring down completes the image. Simply stunning.

In the middle of the field without any walkway leading to it sits a quaint little cottage. It is a nature freak's dream come true. The walls look like the trees willingly grew to form them, but stopped short of any leaves. The ceiling is made of sweet hay that one can smell even from across the meadow. (Why yes, there are herbs mixed in, however did you know? )

This setting is super convenient for the unicorn standing here. He fits right in. Tall and gracile, cloven hooved with a delicate head (and a Roman nose), he isn't quite a horse and isn't quite a deer. He's some unique creature, his tail tasseled and his mane utterly ridiculous. He has a glossy black coat, generously dappled like an Appaloosa or a fallow deer. The eponymous horn is very very long and sharp, a seashell pearly bronze in color.

He looks around, flicking his tail. Then in a New York accent that could degrease an engine, he says, "Oh, for fuck's sake."

On the unicorn's dappled butt sits a ragged looking Siamese with a torn ear; the kind of cat that has a stud book dating back to the Khmer Empire(1) -- which it dug a hole for, pissed on, and buried before running off to make a living plundering garbage cans and dumpsters in back alleys. He's got sharp claws and sharp blue eyes and a feral air about him; the kind of cat humans never see as more than the grey shadow that made off with your sandwich the instant you turned your back on it. The kind that nips in through your kitchen window, eats your canary, and somehow makes it look like your Maine Coon got off his plump, pampered ass to do it.

(1)Thailand, pre-1200s, folks.

"Nice ass," the cat comments, though whether it is commenting on its seat or the fact that there is an equine present is anyone's guess. "Also, better than retail Hell, which is the last Dream I had."

As if their steps conjured it, the doorway to the cottage swings open and out steps a large,well muscled, pure white unicorn Stallion. He had that razzle dazzle one can only hope for. Look at those hindquarters, so plump. Those shoulders, perfectly toned. His horn sparkles in the sunlight for fucks sake.

'Well, hellllooo." Damn, even that voice is a smooth as melted chocolate, and as intoxicating. Thankfully, he stays in the doorway and looks Unicorn-Itzhak up and down (and back, cuz long.)

The car gets ignored, and can you really blame the walking embodiment of Unicorn 'do you even lift, bro' over there?

The unicorn (the first one) swivels his ears backwards. "Who asked you, Abildgaard?" He swings his head around to eyeball the cat. "You're adorable," he complains.

He's probably about to complain more when, well hello there! He looks back around and blinks his great dark eyes at the flirtatious stallion. "Uh, yeah, hi, my buddy and me are, uh," what are they doing? Think fast, Itzhak! Nope, it's not happening. He rolls an eye back towards Ravn in a silent help.

Ravn the alley Siamese blinks at the white unicorn in the fashion of someone thinking the other person (horse?) is blind. The answer is, after all, obvious. He is riding a unicorn. What does it look like?

He raises a paw and licks it with the kind of casual arrogance only a cat can manage. "Meow." So much for adorable.

Then, a little more focused on the situation -- those ponies are rather well armed with those sharp horns -- he focuses blue, feline eyes on the white unicorn. "Please tell me you two aren't going to fight it out like a couple of stallions next. And if you are, please let me get off first. I will claw you both if I have to."

Tall drink of sparking champagne over there steps forward and was GOING to answer when a second unicorn appears. This one is K-A-R-E-N. Light Golden hair, perfectly styled (oh yes she will get you the number of her stylist!), and a bow on her horn.

"Oh thank GOODNESS," she examines, bumping what has to be her husband out of the way. "I was so worried the agency couldn't get someone out quickly. Darling!" She calls back into the house, "The babysitter is here!"

"You're not helping!" Itzhak hisses at his supposed friend Ravn 'The Opposite Of Helping' Abildgaard. Even less helpful, the thought of squealing and trying to bite the other stallion's neck and maybe kicking him a little is starting to seem like a good idea. Itzhak is almost entirely sure it's not as good as idea as it seems, but he's having trouble remembering why.

"...Babysitter?" Both ears sag.

The cat sinks some too; flattens himself a little, winces. Cat can do the math: Baby plus adorbs furry creature equals ribbons and claws dipped in sparkly nail polish and all the other little tortures babies inflict on innocent felines. Ravn represses the urge to hiss.

He pulls his claws back in. Sorry, Itzhak, it's a reflex. Cat no like, cat has claws.

"I don't suppose we could turn around and I could hang on really well, and then we'd disappear over the Ghibli hills, vanishing into the sunset to have happy adventures in a farm upstate?" Somebody really doesn't want to be a baby's plushie. No, not if the baby is a uni-foal, either.

Dun Dun Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.

It takes a few moments (and yes, the dream did add that soundtrack, it's nice like that) before the sound of hooves comes up and out comes.... literally the most adorable baby unicorn anyone could ever ask for. Alabaster hair all gleaming and sparkly. Silver hooves. A tiny ity-bitty little horn rests between two ears that when pointed toward a subject reveal velvet soft pinkness. Not only that, it's shy and hides behind Mommy unicorn with only it's little fawn-brown eyes poking out to view the ~strangers~. Stranger-danger, on high.

Daddy Unicorn loses some of that buff-yo-man when presented adjacent to his family, and he looks a bit embarrassed to have to set it aside. Mama Unicorn is in control of the situation and quickly rattles off the rules:
1) No sweet hay before bed
2) Nap-time is at <insert time>
3) Under no circumstances should they give the baby glitter
4) Keep the door locked and do not let the dragon in
5) Sometimes a bird friend is allowed over, but they have to stay inside.

With that obvious foreshadowing in place Mama gives baby a kiss then touches horn to horn. "They'll take good care of you. Now Bill." Yes, the male Unicorn's name is Bill, "We need to get going. If the forest council doesn't put in that squirrel-crossing zone I am going to be SO mad."

And they are off! This leaves The group inside of the house face to face with fuzzy-angelic unicorn baby who is still shy and is shifting from hoof to hoof in said nervousness. Finally, "You are a really pretty kitty." That's to Ravn, and in that adorable baby-type voice.

"Not if we wanna make it home," the unicorn Ravn's riding says in glum resignation. Then there's prickles on his butt and his hindquarters bounce. He's still eyeing Bill though, like he'd like to chomp him or make out with him or maybe both? Before he can make a well-informed decision, the real danger arrives.

Itzhak's doom is a tiny unicorn foal. Probably Ravn's too. Sorry buddy.

His ears come forward and he stretches out his long elegant neck to whuffle at the baby. "Hi, sweetheart. What's your name?"

Bouncing hindquarters mean more claws; a cat staples itself to an insecure surface. At least Ravn has the decency to look a little apologetic about it, not that he can stop doing it.

"Could you like, hold still so that I don't have to ventilate your dappled ass?" he murmurs -- and then there is Mrs Bill the Unicorn rattling off rules and parading out a smol creature that looks like Dreamworks should be paying royalties for the use of its likeness. The Siamese's blue eyes glaze over in disbelief; the Veil has pulled a lot of shit on him but this is as close to the line as its going to get without someone spiraling into a cognitive shutdown.

Itzhak's kryptonite. Ravn's too, but in a different way. He's been subjected to enough adorable baby horses and can't we buy that one, and that one too, dear, if you loved me you'd get all of them, that he doesn't want to see another baby horse in his life. And this one talks.

All those claws.

Excuse. Not. A. Horse. Unicorn.

Pardon.

That whuffle causes the baby to giggle and also displays a silver mark on her foread in the shape of, "Star, cuz mama says I shine like a star." If that isn't adorable the gm will eat her hat.

"Can... can we do some crafts. Mr. Unicorn and Mr. Kitty?" The baby asks, even remembering a belated, "Please?" At the end. She doesn't just go off and get the things. For all her father is a muscle bound smutt and Mama is the Karen of the forest she really is quite a well behaved youngling.

"Well stop poking me in the--" Itzhak squeals as Ravn does the opposite of stopping with the claws. Bounce! "For cryin' out loud!" Crafts will have to wait a minute while the babysitters figure their nonsense out.

The cat went over the moon -- almost.

Ravn!cat goes flying, and quite high at that, but what goes up does eventually come down -- sort of. He ends up to a branch in a decorative tree in what would be the driveway if only unicorns had any need for driveways. The blue glare he shoots Unicorn!Itzhak is anything but flattering. "Don't make me pull out jokes about poking your rear," he mutters. "There are children present."

Claws are detached from tree, one at a time, as he sort of oozes around the branch to sit on it, rather than cling to its underside. "Frick's sake, you're skittier than my ex' thoroughbreds and they were so neurotic they couldn't sleep without soothing music being played in the barn all night."

Bllliinnkkk goes baby Star. But, um, bouncy is happy right? So she frolics a bit and decides that they were playing and that this is a yes for crafts.

She is gone into another room and comes back with a beautiful wooden caboodle full of craft supplies. All the coloring things one could want, glue, pipe cleaners, fuzzy felt balls, feathers, and yes, vials of glitter.

Which is what Star goes straight for. She doesn't have fingers so her little stubby horn gets used instead to try to pop off the lid.

Hey, babysitters? The baby needs sitting.

Unicorn Itzhak glares right back, lashing his lengthy tail. "You deserved it, ya pointy on five outta six ends, ya yutz! Whaddaya expect?! I oughta leave you up that tree, serve you right." All while Star helps herself to the glitter.

Supposedly this guy raised a sister and a niece. Somehow they survived. Pure luck, it's looking at the moment.

Who knew a cat could hold a paw up like that and make a gesture like that.

And stay up that tree, too. It is a good and comfortable tree, and his branch is hopefully outside of unicorn reach -- large or small. "Hey, look out," Ravn calls down. "Your new baby sister is about to glitter bomb your dappled ass. I swear, I will learn to operate a camera with my toe beans if she succeeds."

Star is quite happily trying to get that very stubborn cap off the glitter with her horn. Thankfully, she isn't having much success.

She has chattered this whole time too, most of it just kid talk, but they might catch, "red sparkles make the biggest holes, but mommy said that cost too much to fix. Black sparkles just make little dots though and there is lots of wood for daddy to get..."

The look Itzhak gives Ravn is the kind of irritated squint that speaks volumes about the annoying little sibling/cousin might actually be telling the truth and I have to weigh how much I want to hassle them against turning around and risking being made a fool of and yet the truth is equally risky. Nobody ever said sittin' was easy.

He gusts a snort and looks over his shoulder. Oh look at that. "STAR!" he barks with all the authority of the older brother. "Put that down or you don't get dessert! Mom said!"

Yeah he knows how to handle 'em.

An excellent time for a cat to descend from a tree, unseen. Unseen, because no cat is ever elegant, wriggling its way down backwards. Let a cat have at least some dignity here.

He has no younger siblings. He never spent much time with children. And this is why he pads up to watch what's going on on dainty little paws, blissfully ignorant of the extreme danger of glitter bombing and glue spraying and ending up in a baby dress and ribbons. In his innocence, he has no idea what kids do to cats.

"I think maybe we should be careful with anything that might make holes in things." Oh, he does have some caution.

"But..but..." Star's lower lip wobbles and those beautiful eyes seem to get twice as big. "I'll be CAREFUL. I promise!"

She STARES between the two of them and then drops her head. "Okay....." and stops trying to get the glitter out. (Someone should put it up high.)

Just then there is a taptaptap at the doorway, all innocent and safe. This would be a good time to review mama's rules. Baby Star doesn't remember them and darts for the doorway.

Unicorn Itzhak melts just a little. "That's a good girl, you wanna pick out your story?" He dips his head to shove the craft stuff back into the tote, then hooks the handle with his horn to get it on a high shelf. So that's how unicorns manage. At least in this dream.

"If it's the dragon they can't come in!" he calls.

Dragon?

Ravn does not have this down. All he's got down is remembering the ruined high school roof and the foot prints and skid marks and the giant hole in the ground in Addington Park and -- oh well, not kitty's problem.

He's a cat. Cat's gonna cat.

Anyone accidentally left a saucer of milk out around here?

There is a peep hole waaaaayyyyy up there, but Star is too little so even though she says a perfectly obedient, "Yes, sir!" to the direction, she still throws the door open to reveal a large scaley dragon face.

Mama unicorn has not yet put the proper fear into the baby but has put proper manners in place.

"Black 'corn sitter says you can't come in Mr. Dragon."

To which the Dragon's reply is a rawr and a claw reaching for the baby.

Unicorn Itzhak should probably have expected this, why wouldn't something go catastrophically wrong right about now? Star opens the door on a big scaly face and a rawr and he tries to simultaneously yell at the dragon to back the fuck off, pal! and yell at Ravn to get out of the way or maybe point out to him that there's a fucking dragon, okay?! But everything collides in his Dreaming brain and he lacks hands to sign.

So he just squeals loud, Unicorn for 'I'm gonna kick your ass!', and charges at the dragon horn-first.

Blinkety blink. Here a cat is just about to make his way into the kitchen, check out whether unicorns have something more interesting in their cupboards than hay and clover and then -- dragon.

The Siamese that is Ravn sits on his rump. He's not charging any damn dragon -- what's he going to do, hiss at it?

Actually, that's a great idea. HiissSSsssSSsSssssss....

After that, though, the feline folklorist figures that he might do something more useful, and bolts towards Star the baby unicorn. He attempts to bounce onto her back -- don't mind the claws! -- and tell her, "Get back, get away from the door!"

Star is STARTLED when the dragon reaches out and begins to say, "But mommy...." as if the dragon really cares about mommy unicorn's rules.

Her words are cut short as Itzhak rushes past, intent on the dragon. Said dragon is NOT impressed and with a flick of his claw sends the black unicorn flying into a wall, causing the plaster to break.

Star was about to get scared when Ravn jumps on her back. Who WOULDN'T love a kitty jumping on them? It is one of life's little joys. Thus Ravn finds it easy to distract the baby and get her further inside. This is good, because the dragon is reaching for Star again. Their only saving grace is that the house is too small for more than the arm to reach in.

Wham! Itzhak's dappled butt cracks a wall upon contact. He shakes his head, staggering, making his ears flop. "Okay, now you pissed me off," he announced, swaying a little. "C'mon, asshole, I'm taking that outta your hide."

So many bad words.

With a snort and a rake of the floor he's going right back to fighting the dragon, gleefully. How often does he get to be a unicorn and fight a dragon? Everything's coming up Rosencrantz!

"Mommy," Star says to Ravn, very seriously, "says that daddy should stop sticking his horn into assholes."

Ravn opens his little pink kitty mouth to suggest something sensible, and then --

Not touching that. Nope.

Kitty coughs. "I'm sure she does. No mummy unicorns are all that happy about daddy unicorns sticking their horns into someone else. But our Rosencrantz-horn here really wants to go into some dragon backside, and he really likes to fight."

The fine art of explaining certain deviances to baby unicorns.

"Tell you what, let's play cats. It's easy for me, I am already a cat, see? Let's do the sensible thing. Come on, kiddo, let's hide under the bed."

A feline glance back over his shoulder and tail. "And, Rosencrantz -- two words. Glitter bomb."

Speak of sticking a horn in things, Itzhak manages to ram his horn quite firmly in the dragon's arm and elicits an angry roar followed by, "Fuck you unicorn! Give me the baby!!" As he shakes violently to try to dislodge Itzhak by thrashing him against the walls of the cottage.

They hold up surprisingly well. Daddy Unicorn does have some skills behind whatever he does with his horn.

Star's tail is high as she trots after Ravn with that invitation to be a cat. Sadly, she doesn't have the same dexterity at the tip as he does. She crouches down and eyes the black slit warily. "There are monsters under their. Are you sure you don't see any monsters? Mommy always checks for them but sometimes she misses them."

Because monsters under the bed are more scary than the dragon literally trying to eat her. Oh the focus of youth.

Okay, truth be told, the black unicorn is getting a little battered around. He's whammed into the wall again, shaken not stirred by dragon thrashing. Some very naughty words in English and Yiddish and Unicorn all come out of him as the dragon tries to break his horn or his neck or he figures it's not picky.

He's forced to back off, yanking his horn free. Ugh, dragon blood--but he hears Ravn. A unicorn could defeat a dragon with glitter. Itzhak's life has led him to this moment.

Rearing, he hooks his horn into the crafts caddy and flings it at the dragon like a glittery grenade.

"You know what cats do to monsters under the bed?" Ravn!Kitty looks at Babycorn Star. Then he raises one dainty paw and extends one murder-dagger at a time -- click, click, click. "And if that's not bad enough, I'll shed all over them. Monsters don't stand a chance against cats."

Which is why the unicorn is fighting the dragon. Because dragons aren't under-the-bed monsters. They're Rosencrantz-you-like-fighting-shit monsters.

He watches with blue slits whether the glitter works -- because while the Itzicorn is big and strong, so is the dragon, and Ravn is not going to just sit here and watch his friend get turned into a stain on the carpet. He's getting the kid out of the way, and that is good -- but that doesn't mean he's not scanning the room from down there, looking for anything else that might deter dragons. Maybe there's a really sharp knife in those craft supplies, or in a kitchen drawer? Kitty's got telekinesis powers.

"Oh! You have little daddy horns!" Star says happily upon seeing the murder claws. "Do you stick them in the wrong places too?" Regardless of the answer to that question the little unicorn 🦄 squats down and wiggles under the bed. That beautiful little white tail is left out though, because Star has no concept of her personal space.

"NOT THE GLITTER......." Roars the dragon and almost bends over itself to get away from the sparkling mess that it is. He isn't fast enough though and the sound of his yelps of pain echo back through the cabin as he retreats post-haste.

There are also lots of smoking holes in the floor now.

"HAH!! You better run!" hollers Itzhak, world greatest unicorn babysitter, as he staggers to the door. "Don't mess with GLITTER!"

THEN HIS, oops he's still thinking in caps lock, then his legs wobble and he slides thump to the floor. Which is full of smoking holes.

"No, I generally don't stick my horn into anyone," Ravn murmurs and wonders what kind of insane reality editor supplies a baby unicorn with heavy innuendo. Baby unicorn, he tells himself, because babycorn sounds too much like baby carrot, and there's enough predator in this alley cat to think babycorns have quite juicy looking little butts.

It's not that he sympathises with the dragon. He just sees where it's coming from, that's all.

And glitter is terrifying. Look, are we sure we're on the right team here?

Oh well. Once you picked a team, stick to it. Kitty does what cats do best: He skitters out from under the bed and hops on to the table, and knocks over the vase. Flowers and water spray and splat on the floor -- and hopefully, some of the water puts out some of the smoldering before little smoking holes become little house fires.

Wait! Kitty had her go under the table but then didn't STAY with her?! UGH. That's just not fair. It takes the baby unicorn some extra time to wiggle out from under the bed and blinks slowly.

"Oh. Yeah... you shouldn't use the glitter like that." The baby is smart enough to stay over here away from the gaping holes.

Thankfully, the water that Ravn spills about does more than just put out the little fires, it prevents the glitter from spreading holes any further.

From without comes a very Karen-like scream, "WHAT DID YOU TWO DO TO MY POOR BABY?!" That is Mama unicorn's voice who dashes into the house, eyes wide and angry. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO LET HER USE THE GLITTER!!!!!!!!!"

Itzhak Unicorn hoists himself to his feet and glares dazedly, slewing around to show Mama Karen his business end. (That's the horn, people.) "Look, lady, if it wasn't for that glitter ya baby would be dragon food, so shut it! The agency ain't responsible for dragon-related damages!"

That he's covered in dragon gore and barely standing might be convincing, but on the other hoof, maybe not.

Ravn does what a cat does best. He plops his dainty little butt down on the table exactly where that vase used to sit, curls his tail around himself, and licks his dainty little paw. Apologise? For wha -- oh, the vase? Didn't see it. Why upset? It was ugly anyway. He did you a favour.

He looks back towards the bed where Baby Star (not babycorn! not baby carrot!) is still wriggling out from under the bed. Then he looks at Karencorn. "Taught your kid to hide from dragons. Kept your kid alive to teach her anything at all. Could have saved the floor and sacrificed the kid, would have been easier. I think we deserve salmon, actually."

"We told you not to let the dragon in!" Karencorn replies disgusted, shooting a glare at the gore covered Itzhak.

Star gets her hind quarters out and BOUNDS over to her mother babbling about the WHOLE DAY. Horns going where they shouldn't, the dragon, the glitter, learning to hide from the nice kitty- PLEASE CAN THEY KEEP HIM?? All done as she bounds and winds herself around her mother in utter childlike innocence of what has occurred.

Mama doesn't listen to her baby though and just POINTS to the doorway with her horn. (It is pretty telling that Daddcorn isn't home. Someone slip off to the Forest-bar to get away from the wife maybe?) "Get out! Your agency will be HEARING from me!"

Itzhak is pretty sure just what kind of forest bar Bill snuck off to. A stallion has needs, okay?

He pulls up alongside the table to let Ravn climb aboard, telling Karen Unicorn spitefully, "May you get plenty of contractors and may they all be lowest bidder!"

Okay he has to stretch out his neck to nuzzle Star goodbye though. "You can't keep Abildgaard, he's gotta go babysit other fillies, kay? Bye, sweetheart, maybe we'll see you again sometime."

Door A: Get a nice little collar with a bell on, spend the rest of your life on a pillow with all the tuna you can eat while the baby carr--Baby Star fusses over you and tries to make you wear her dollies' dresses.

Door B: Fly off the table and onto Unicorn Rosencrantz' dappled backside and hang on with all eighteen claws.

Door B it is. "Can we leave now? A cat has things a cat needs to do. We don't want to ruin Mrs Unicorn's carpet, do we? I need to go. Can we go now? I have to leave. I think I ate a bad rat. Byyyyye!"