Tracking the Trickster | Search Box

The Jack-in-the-Box was an interesting little surprise on Moore's porch. And an even more curious item once he got it inside and started to play around with it a bit. The crank worked fine, the music was functional, but it would never pop open no matter how long he cranked it for. The music would simply repeat, and even stranger, the crank never felt like it had any tension behind it. Typically, if you cranked one of these for too long, the tension would make it impossible to crank without breaking the box entirely. There was most certainly something magical about this box, Moore was sure of it.

He picked up the box, turning it slightly as he cranked the handle- suddenly, the music became distorted. As he turned even more, the music seemed to distort or be otherwise out of tune in most directions he pointed with it, that is, except for one. To most this would just be a strange malfunction that might cause them to look at the actual music box within, but to Moore, this was a clue. Surely whoever left it there would leave a clue of sorts, or some sort of trace. After all, leaving an eternally windable box with no end couldn't be the entire prank. There was no comedic payoff for it. His mind went to some of the books he had seen in the library, while searching for information about Cybele, he did stumble across a few books lightly mentioning the trickster god. It was an obvious connection... maybe if he used the jack-in-the-box, he could end up finding the Jack outside of the box.

He got up from his chair and continued to turn the crank, turning in the direction which made the music play properly and walking forwards. It brought him to his front door first, of course- Jack was a trickster, but Moore was also certain that he wasn't the kind of lad to get an old mortal to run his muzzle into a brick wall. Just as he opened the door, Moore heard a small cough from next to him.

Anastasius looked at him curiously, and squinted at the box in his hands. "Uncle Moore, what are you doing?" Oh, he knew that Stasi would never understand what he was doing- but he couldn't just leave this mystery unsolved. "Oh! I'm just going on an outing, going to see if I can find the owner of this jack-in-the-box here!" He held up the box, and the other moo just rolled his eyes in response. "You're such a sympathetic sap, whoever left that thing here probably doesn't even care about it-" They met eyes, and Stasi got a good look at his uncle's sad little frown. He sighed. "Fine, whatever. Just don't get yourself into any trouble or whatever."

The younger pheromoo watched as Moore walked out of the house fully, walking forwards a bit longer until he reached the road, where he began to spin around with his box before apparently finding his next direction to walk in. His steps were fast and light, seemingly chasing after some invisible trickster down the sidewalk.

First the garden, and now this? As if his uncle couldn't get any more weird and embarrassing.