Summary: Dream marvels at modern witchcraft.

A loud airy drone filled the house. It permeated all the rooms and implicated the telltale promise of cleaning- or the torment of dogs, cats, and other unfortunate souls.

"Come on, Dream! It's not going to hurt you." Ink assured over the noise, stepping nearer to the terrified skeleton he'd cornered on the couch.

"B-but the growling..." Dream whimpered. His pinprick eyelights intently watched the device the artist dragged closer with a fierce (illogical) dread.

"That just means it's working!" He chimed, grinning. All the while, closing the distance between the odd Sans and his foe. "Come on, give it a little touch! It won't hurt!"

The yellow-clad guardian hesitantly reached forward as if the device would suddenly sprout a maw and snap at him. Shaking like a leaf in a tornado, he stammered while gently running his hand along the top of the vacuum hose, "T-there, t-there- N-n-nice, cleaner b-beast."

Ink snorted. "Heh-he! It's not a beast, silly!"

Dream blinked nervously, asking, "O-oh, so then w-what do you call it?"

"A vacuum. It's like a- darn, what's the stick with bristles on the end called again?" The soulless skeleton paused, tapped his chin, and pondered before exclaiming, "Oh, right! A broom! It's like a fancy broom!"

"A broom?" The Guardian of Positivity repeated. He then stared at the "fancy broom" and examined it in a new light, fear seemingly melting away into a wary curiosity. A small proud smile overtook his frown as he soon proclaimed, "So this is what modern witches use to traverse the skies!"

Ink's eyelights flickered between various colors and symbols. "Pfft- I'm sorry, what?!"

Before Dream could recite his unique conclusion once more, the front door opened. Blue walked in, bearing all the features and tiredness of a monster who hadn't slept ̶s̶i̶n̶c̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶h̶a̶d̶ ̶c̶h̶i̶l̶d̶r̶e̶n̶ in the last few... days? Weeks? Months? (Er, it was best to just say he had failed to gain good rest in quite some time- better to not dwell on how long it had been and whether or not a certain pair of skeletons was the cause.)

Carrying bags of groceries inside, the Underswap Sans closed the door and surveyed the scene. Then said in a disapproving tone, "Ink, you better not be teaching Dream weird things again."

"I'm n-"

Dream hopped up from his spot on the couch, interrupting the Guardian of AUs. "Oh, Warrior of Blue! Welcome back from your successful hunt and trading! The noble paint demon was teaching me the new ways of witchcraft!"

Blue took in an audible breath, and his face expressed how hard he would have facepalmed if his hands weren't full. The phalanges wrapped around the plastic bags twitched as if wanting to go through with the action. However, since he couldn't put the bags down yet (lest Ink instantly raid them for ice cream), he settled for a nigh silent mumble laced with exasperation, "I really wish you'd come to me with your questions instead... Stars knows I don't need to deal with another 'fire dragon' incident. It took so long to clean up, and the neighbors still haven't accepted my apology cookies."

He slowly meandered his way to the kitchen doorway, pausing. "Also, Ink, you're grounded."