Dancing Fox In XII: Dance If You Want To

[Deathkeeper]

"It will happen when it happens. Our little Lord here needs a turn too, after all."
"Too-hoo true. Don't go forgetting me." Hoots the owl.
"Look behind the Duke's banner there. And good luck." he says with a knowing smile.

Mist has decided to shut up and let Cleo handle the Fox so he doesn't have. And he knows that Cleo probably knows that they only agreed to exchange information, not a favor like this. He has been basically banking on the fact that Cleo hasn't actually made this into a formal deal.

[Recaiden]

"Good day to you all."

Cleo bows again, and heads towards the mentioned banner, lifting it aside and going behind it. She remembers this; there'll be a staircase and then a door, or maaaaaaybe a door and then a staircase, and past those, they won't be in anyone's dream at all, their time limit will lighten, and they'll start being able to find what they're looking for.

Once they're well away, "I can see why you don't talk about your family, Mist."
It's true, she knows that he knows that she knows that this trip isn't covered by the terms of the favor. She must have some other reason(s) for it.

[Deathkeeper]

The Nobles give a friendly set of waves good-bye. "Stop by if you ever wish to have a more straightforward talk." rumbles the Stag at the Fox's expense.

Behind the banner is a hole in an ancient stone wall, with a staircase beyond it.
"They're not my family. My family is home on Earth, and all human." he says, insistent.

[Recaiden]

"I will. You all take care."

Down the steps Cleo leads, down down down in a gently squiggly line.
One, two, three...these go on quite a way. One hundred, two hundred...

"Well, your wannabe-nobility, then. They might not still be human, you know. You could run into one of them here." She should suggest that to the owl.

[Deathkeeper]

"Hey, they do have their own court. Technically speaking they are nobility." he says, pointedly ignoring Cleo's other statement, on account of how incredibly distressful that would be.

[Recaiden]

"Maybe even royalty. That was a King of foxes, right?"
Seven hundred steps and suddenly, where the next step was there's now a forest, full of evergreens (or are they nevergreens?) are lightly dusted with snow and stardust.

[Deathkeeper]

"Yes, that would be his title. The King, the Duke, and the Lord-Knight, though no one ever actually uses his full title." Mist says, looking around at the trees.
"So...where now?" he asks her.

[Recaiden]

The trees look back, faces glowering in their bark, whispering welcomes to the two travelers.
Cleo waves to them, only politely.
"Somewhere with more people, I think. And warmer-" She takes a moment to shiver dramatically "Both your things are rather crafted, artificial."

[Deathkeeper]

Mist looks at her, perplexed, giving a small polite wave to the trees.
"What do you mean, crafted? Leah's were a ring and sunglasses. They're no more crafted than that."
And the staff which he doesn't know much about.

[Recaiden]

Cleo shakes her head.
"No more crafted, no. And she got them in a tavern, a house, and a fighting pit. Places of civilization, not the woods. Besides, there's a lot of bad feeling among the creatures of the air around here. Practically a cold war. Don't wanna get caught up in that."

She starts walking, rather briskly. Any direction will do, so long as it's forward.

[Deathkeeper]

Well I got the actual things in towns..." Mist mutters, but he agrees that the place doesn't exactly feel safe. He defers to her judgement while navigating it, though.

[Recaiden]

"I don't know exactly where to look. But I doubt it's here."

They make their way between the trees. Occasionally they cross what seems to be a path, but Cleo ignores them.
Something almost crosses their path; rushing off to their left, off behind a tree before one can glimpse more than a flutter of cloth that leaves the scent of honey and sickly-sweet poison behind.
A few chirping birds remark on them with disapproval.But soon enough, they see the woods opening up, and the sun shining down on fields of wheat/gold/millions of tiny lobsters.

[Deathkeeper]

"What exactly can we run into here? Are the birds and things around just...dreams? Or beings like you? Or..." he trails off as he looks out at the fields.
"Uh, so where do we go from here? How do you know where we're going?"

[Recaiden]

"These are the Nexus's Dreamlands, and you can run into all sorts of things here. There are figments that outlived their dream, fae like me, and like you, dreaming mortals who made their way here intentionally or unintentional, creatures attuned to dreams like baku and cats, mortals who are physically dwelling here some way or another, gods, horrors, and stranger things besides. The worst thing we have any real chance of seeing is an embodied nightmare. You'll know right away if we do."

Numerous eyes watch from the treeline as they depart. Up in the sky, the sun shines larger and more radiant than it ever could in the real world, but no warmer. The sky is such a pure, deep blue, free of any cloud, that it could have been cut from a gem.

"I say we go to Ring City, and see what we see along the way. If we don't see anything, there'll at least be leads there. I've been here before; I know these woods."

[Deathkeeper]

Mist nods. "Uh, I guess that makes sense. Lead on, Cleo. What's a dream-land city like, anyway? How will we know or even ask for leads about finding my stuff?" he asks.

[Recaiden]

Cleo pauses to look at him, a silly smile on her face.
"It's dreamy."
And then she puts on a burst of speed in scampering over the lobster-grass.
"Just ask, and keep your eyes open."

In a little while, one sees great brightly-colored balloons coming over the horizon. Well, the balloons stay in place. Mist and Cleo get closer.

[Deathkeeper]

Mist gives her only a "really?" glare, before he suddenly has to sprint after her through terrifying lobster-grass.
"Ow oh god what even is this oh why..."

Later, "Please tell me those balloons mark where the city is or something..." he asks.

[Recaiden]

"They do exactly that. They're a safeguard against the dreams of military robots, and hang all around the city."
At this point, they've run across a road, which Cleo is happily strolling along. And the road, for its part, is happily strolling along the ground on its little cone legs, next to another road power-walking the opposite direction.

Up ahead, on the way to the city, there's a small shop inside a large gnarled tree, with all sorts of odds-and-ends that are for sale hanging from the branches.

[Deathkeeper]

"Do you want to start asking around there? It's not the city, but it could have a lead." Mist offers, pointing at the store.
He's sure if they look it will turn out to be weird.
Dream stores have to be weird.

[Recaiden]

"That couldn't hurt."
Cleo hops off the road, and looks back to Mist. Is he a fox right now?
Then she admires their reflection in a large mirror hanging from a low branch. It reflects the landscape perfectly, but she and Mist each seem to be cartoon dragonflies in its image.

Then it's inside, pushing open the round clear door and looking around inside.
One wall is entirely taken up by bottles. Most hold dreams and experiences, some hold tiny creatures or strange liquids, each label written in tiny neat script, too far to be seen right now. Another 90 degree arc contains the counter and small items and things best kept out of reach of shoplifters, and the shopkeeper, a brown-haired human woman covered in a heavy apron and numerous sharp-lined geometric tattoos. She stares off through the shop, her gaze a million miles away. A rotating display holds dreamcatchers of all shapes and styles, a small refrigerator holds refreshments and cheeses, and a small table with an astrolabe offers 'Time - Bought and Sold!' Of course, there are tacky gift shop knick-knacks, and pocket versions of ancient forbidden texts. Several brands of anti-cigarettes are in a little plastic display. And there's a number of carved wooden statuettes set with purple seashells.

[Deathkeeper]

Indeed, Mist is a fox right now. Though not according to the mirror. Mist looks at it inquisitively. Weird old magic mirrors.
The other items don't seem particularly interesting, though that's also due to their large but existent time limit, and the fact that he has nothing to pay for anything with.
"So, what's the plan? Just go up to people and ask if they've seen a coat or a flute?" he asks.

[Recaiden]

"You want anything, Mist? I've got a bit on me that could pay."
Cleo spends a little bit admiring the dreamcatchers.
"Maybe."
She slinks up to the shopkeeper.
"Excuse me sir, my friend is looking for some things, and we think you might, with your knowledge of links, have some advice for him." And now it's to Mist to explain what he's looking for.

A large toad, another customer. waddles down the aisle, looking over the purple-studded statues

[Deathkeeper]

"Maybe I could get a statuette to go next to the one Leah gave me." Mist says as he goes up to the counter and sits down politely on his haunches.
"Uh, I'm looking for a long black coat and a hand-carved wooden flute with Japanese on the back. They're mine and I need to find them." he explains, not sure what exactly to say.

[Recaiden]

The shopkeeper draws out a heavy sheet of paper and a stick of charcoal, and starts writing. Cleo, meanwhile, joins the toad in inspecting the figures.
On the paper, soon enough, are the same characters that are found on Mist's flute. She offers the page to him wordlessly, and then pantomimes small particles draining out of one's hand.

[Deathkeeper]

Mist takes the paper, though who knows exactly where it goes.
"Uh, thanks? I don't quite understand, though. These are the symbols. If you want pay, Cleo did offer..." Mist isn't good at charades!

[Recaiden]

Cleo pops back up at the counter with a carved elephant, shell bits on the tip of its trunk and top of its head, deep purple. She sets it down and hands over a pile of floppy coins.
"He's saying, Mist, that your flute is probably with the machines in the desert, where it would be most wondered at."

The shopkeeper, without looking at Cleo, sweeps away the coins and counts them into a register.

[Deathkeeper]

"Oh. Thank you, then. Where is the desert, Cleo? Are the machines dangerous? Maybe we should find where my coat is before we decide where to go?" he suggests.
"Is there a story behind you and Leah and elephants?" he asks.

[Recaiden]

"There isn't yet. This one is to match the other."
Cleo nods.
"North, over the clouds. Of course, we should look for signs of your coat. And yes, they're dangerous. But mostly to each other, and to cities. Not to individuals."

The elephant is put in a little bag, which can go wherever the paper went.
And Cleo leads them out, back onto the road, under the shadow of the balloons.

[Deathkeeper]

"Well, that sounds good. Find both, and then choose where to go. Thank you!" he says to Cleo, and then to the shopkeep, as they presumably depart and back towards the city in search of a coat.

[Recaiden]

Into the city! They depart is search of a coat. It's more difficult. There are so many coats in existence. Most people have way more coats than they have flutes. The city...isn't so different from Inside. A jumble of all sorts of things, from high-tech to low tech, falling apart to incredibly rich, human to collection of intelligent orbs that roll along sidewalks.

Cleo goes to pester travellers about coats.