The conversation began to take on the tone of an elderly grandfather talking to a grandson. Griffix, in a patient, calm and strangely caring voice, answering Shawn's questions about this 'new' life and state of being. Explaining one by one the reasons the world had changed.

"Ya' part of the Order now, ya' are son. That means, ya' part of the Circus. There ain't no other way ta' 'tink about it. 'N everyone who finds themselves part 'o the Circus...well...that person is just as damned as the rest of us."

He waited for that to sink in before adding. "But ya' knew that already, didn't ya'? If ya' search yourself long n' hard...I think ya' find that ya' knew that when ya' made the choice ta' join the Order, ya' did."

Shawn sighed. "I think it was before that. When I made that deal with Cherrywinks to save my life." Maybe he was just tired of lying, or maybe he was just so desperate for a sympathetic ear that a little bit of kindness from Griffix made him open up.

"Ahhhhh, yes. Yes, yes, yes. That'll be it lad. That'll be it." Then he frowned.

"Since that moment, ya' been traded around. Bouncin' here. Back n' forth n' such. It's a tough spot. 'Tis always a tough spot when ya' find yourself willfully blind. Either ya' didn't have the energy, nor the spirit ta' confront the demon."

"I'm not talkin' about Cherrywinks or Malinda or even me for that matter lad. I'm talkin' about yourself."

"In the old times, the Kings of Old would see the threats to their Kingdoms, they would build walls to keep the snakes out. So ya' might say that the snakes were kept out by the city walls. But guess what? Over time, then they found out lad, they found out that there were snakes in the City: criminals, traitors and thieves. So they created forces to root out the snakes inside the city, lad."

"Oh my! Ya' know what? Ya' can keep the snakes out of the City lad. And ya' can find the snakes n' root them out among the city-folk too."

"But then they found out that there are snakes in each of us lad. We all have snakes inside of us. Most us don't want to see our own snakes."

"Most of us don't want ta' know what we're really capable of."

Shawn considered the truth of that, and really couldn't think of any reason Griffix was wrong. "I wish I didn't..."

"Wishn' somethin' n' doin' a 'ting are two different 'tings lad. I wish I had enough strength ta' make sure I stayed at home instead of goin' ta' the road that fateful night when I was disappeared."

Shawn sighed, sounding less sad or afraid and more...resigned. Like he already knew about the uselessness of regret. "Can I see the spider bottle?"

Griffix took the transparent bottle out from the inside of his coat and handed it over to Shawn. The spider inside seemed to be frozen in a permanent stasis.



"It only comes 'into bein' when ya' open the top." He explained. "Ya' also have to think somethin' really, really bad. Think 'bout somethin' violent for it to wake up once ya' opened it." He further explained. "But then it'll get ta' bitten.'"

Suddenly, and without warning, Griffix drew a knife. The knife was one perfect piece of steel, the sharp cutting edge morphing into the smooth handle in a way that reminded Shawn of the dorsal fin on the sharks he'd seen at the zoo.

Griffix took a step towards Shawn.

Shawn doesn't flinch or step away from Griffix. If he wanted to hurt him, he'd had every opportunity before now. "Will the spider bite the opener? Is it a regular spider, or is it smart, like a person?"

As Shawn had expected, Griffix had something else in mind. He flipped the knife over, offering the handle to Shawn.

"Here. Take this." He said, pushing the of the knife towards Shawn, the blade glinting from the moonlight. "The spider is a kind of beast that'll take a bite now n' then of whatever it is that's supposed'ta' be bitten. But if ya' don't think of somethin'  really, really bad nor violent enough...it might take a bite outta ya'."

"That's why I'm given ya' the knife. The spider is fine if it works. But even then, ya' have ta' cut the nose off of Gaggles. Cut that nose right off and send her back ta' the grave until the next round the Circus opens."

"What a terrible, terrible curse we've taken on." He opined, reflecting on the nature of Gaggle, and perhaps himself too for that matter.

Shawn held the knife with two fingers, like it was a dead mouse. The thought of using it almost terrified him more than actually confronting Gaggles did. "What if...I can trick Gaggles into opening the bottle? Will the spider bite her?"

"Sure." Griffix said. "But ya' still have ta' think of somethin' violent and terrible for it to know who ta' bite. The worse off 'tis, the less likely that the spider will go on n' bite ya' instead. So think o' somethin' just awful. The whole time. Otherwise....Gaggles'll cut your throat like a chicken on a farm."

"But, even if ya' can get the spider ta' bite Gaggles. Well, then lad, ya' still need to cut. Cut that nose off, as if ya' were Cherrywinks himself. The Circus hasn't been around too long yet lad, so hopefully the nose'll come off without it bein' too attached ta' whatever kid she's possesin'."

"Ya' did know that didn't ya? That Cherrywinks kills'em, and then he takes one of his special noses and puts'em on the dead kid. Bringin' 'em back ta' life as one of 'is own."

Shawn tried to consider what sort of things he'd have to think about. He'd done similar (though way less violent) exercises as part of acting school, but that wasn't under quite this much pressure. Griffix's further explanations just raised more questions, and Shawn was being far more active about asking them, almost as if he was hoping to learn some heretofore unknown weakness that save him from having to do any of this. "So all the clowns used to be dead kids? What happens to the nose once it gets taken off? Or if someone alive puts one on?"

Griffix shook his head in dismay, the shaggy crop of hair on his head moving back and forth.

"'Tis a terrible 'ting lad. A terrible 'ting."

"Cherrywinks cuts off children's noses. He cuts 'em right off n' then he puts one of them noses that the Master Maker created. Ya' see it? Ya' see it lad, don't ya?"

"That means each Clown ya' see is really just a kid. A dead kid ta' be sure lad, but a kid all the same underneath."

"If a nose like that gets takin' off, then the evil of the Clown goes away until the Circus opens again, which is basically 'til the proprietor decides he needs souls. Sometimes that could be as long as 50 years or more lad."

"Trust me lad. Yo donna-wanna put one of them Clown noses on. I seen back in 1894, Cherrywinks' nose somehow ended up in an atique store. Mind ya', a poor kid was playin' around and put it on.....that boy became Cherrywinks 'himself 'til the time when the Circus closed a year-plus later. Puttin' on a Clown nose is a certain way ta' become part o' the troupe. And an even more certain way ta' get your soul stolen'"

"Time was, when I first joined the Order, oh, about a hundred-plus years ago, Cherrywinks didn't take as kindly ta' this work the way he does now. People'd spot 'em lookn' sad at times. I meself caught 'em once: walkin' around all gloomy and such before the day would come when he'd get ta' cuttin' ta' bring the members of the Clown troupe back. Funny thing happened though: the more I been 'wit the Circus, the less n' less I see that side of Cherrywinks. I 'tink bein' forced ta' do that or maybe doin' it for so long changes a soul. Ya'd be surprised what ya' can get used ta' over time lad. Ya' do somethin' long enough, it don't seem bad so much after o' while."

"Some might say it ain't Cherrywinks' fault, because he's cursed. I me-self am cursed. I've got ta' eat too lad." Griffix patted his stomach. "I'm gettin' hungry. I can feel it. And I'm gonna need your help with it, soon-as this work with Gaggles is done. I'm gonna need your help feedin' me, so I can stay under control."

"But that's for later." Griffix added.

Shawn understood what Griffix was saying, but he wasn't sure he liked it. "So it's the proprietor that makes sure all the noses come back? Can the noses be damaged?"

"'Tis in Cherrywink's best interest ta' keep track o' the noses. So it ain't exactly the proprietor that hold onto 'em. The Proprietor start's wakin' folk up n' from there, they get started: He always starts with Cherrywinks. Don't know why. They say the Proprietor used to be a Clown himself. I don't know."

"After than, others wake up: say the Master Maker o' Malinda, ya' might say. Then the others, they wake each other up just by movin' around down there. 'Tis hard to keep 'em asleep when there's a potential for soul rock to be smoked. 'Tis a good way to forget your pain."

"But there's all sorts o' Shannanigans. Sometimes the heads of the crews go out of their way to put themselves in a position ta' get more souls. They might sabotage one another. Cherrywinks might wake up  and then try ta' stop Malinda from wakin'. Or She might wake the Master Maker because she needs somethin' only ta' stab him in the back later."

"Shiftin' alliances."

"So, the noses. They usually stay in the Clown troupe. And yes they can get damaged, maybe even destroyed. More than that though, sometimes....

...sometimes they get lost and the Circus'll open by accident."

"In 1923 in the town o' Kittleson near Wyoming there was an old General store. Someone must've misplaced one of the noses. Or maybe it was stolen. Or maybe there was some infightin' n'-between the Acrobats, the Clowns n' the Freaks. Either way, it ended up, sort of like an antique in n' antique store. A poor kid put that nose on......

"He turned into Cherrywinks n' the whole of the cycle lad, it started up right then n' there that very summer."

"But if the Circus wakes up by accident...doesn't that use a lot of, umm, like magic and soul power? If the Proprietor needs to use that to start the Circus up, then doesn't waking it up at the wrong time hurt the Circus?" Shawn tried to reconcile these facts with other things he'd learned previously. "And what happens to the people who turn into the clowns when the Circus is done?"

"1923 was a terrible year for us lad. The Circus opened up without the Freaks and without the Carnies. That meant there were less patrons, less souls ta' collect. N' worse off that that mind ya', that year's soul contest was really 'bout decidn' who could be the leader and feed their own performers. The Acrobats were stealin' from the Clowns. The Clowns stole from us. Lot's of fightin'." Griffix seemed to confirm what Shawn had thought about it being a bad thing for the Circus to open up.

"Even though the Master Maker won the contest, he might've well been the King of the starved. In the end, there weren't enough souls ta' give ta' the Proprietor. Or to lower down into that well as it 'were. So he came up from that well...." Griffix shuddered, his face suddenly growing worried and the color draining from his face.

"He ate them..." He said, voice soft and face despondent, as if he wasn't talking to Shawn, his gaze somewhere lost in the distance of that memory.

"Moran the Mad, Fennius the Tightwalker....all of the Acrobats. They were the ones closest ta' the well when he came out. A terrible 'ting. It was a rampage. A massacre. A lot of others 'let him in' just by lookin' at 'em. Burned their faces right off, 'n worse. Most ran. Most hid out in the tents 'n the rides."

"We donna-have Acrobats any more."

Griffix shook his head.

"When the Circus is done, those poor souls are used up. The Clown that took over that poor soul keeps the soul. That's what happens ta' those who turn into Clowns, lad. Because it really ain't a clown they're turnin' into. At least not underneath. It's a corpse-rider. It'll come n' snatch the soul right-outta the kid and take the body for a while. Then when it's used up..." Griffix slapped his hands together, a gesture as if he was cleaning filth or dirt off from his palms.

"That's that."

Shawn was doing some mental math, mind racing. This was the first time he'd heard of any sort of weakness from the Circus. "What happened after 1923? It was still a Circus back then, right? Has there been successful ones since then?"

Shawn watched as Griffix stuffed a bit of brown chaggar into his corncob pipe, thick thumb pressing downward into the end where the hole was. "Oh, sure lad. To be sure." Griffix said, smiling.

"1954 'twas the last time the Circus came. In a little town called Eastport, Maine. The proprietor was hungry for souls that year. So he woke up. And let me tell ya' lad, that ever since I've been at the Circus, its always been a Circus."

"Now, I'd been lyin' ta' ya' if I hadn't heard rumors that before it became the 'Circus' as it appears now, if it weren't something else. I've heard that before 'twas a Circus, the Proprietor himself was worshipped. He'd have followers somewhere in places like France or out East in Europe. And these followers would worship him. And they's try to get 'em ta' come out from the 'beyond.' Crowley told me once that they used to pray to him and they'd snatch kids n' feed 'em to him."

"Ya' know Crowley's from the 'Old Time' ya' do?"

"He mentioned it once. He said that's why the Circus is so raggedy, because it's getting old." Shawn didn't want to think too hard about the Proprietor...that near miss at the well still haunted him.

"Did he say that now?" Griffix raised an eyebrow. "Well I wouldn't say that the Circus is all too raggedy. I'm not sure that I agree with that lad. I think we look far better than we did in 1923, n' you can take that ta' the bank, ya' can."

Griffix lit the pipe and smoke came out from the end, filling the room with a musky and acrid smell.

"Now listen lad. Our first set of business is for you to go ahead and cut Gaggles' nose off." He took a drag on the pipe. Then he blew out a plume of purple smoke.

"I me-self. We'll, I've got ta' plan ta' pay Mr. Pibbles a visit. When ya' find yourself done with Gaggles, come back here with the nose. Do it quick lad. Don't wait on it."

"If she don't kill ya' that is."

"If all goes well, we'll see how the Clown Troupe does when its down by two Clowns. Mind-ya', I'd say that'll make 'em think twice before targetin' a member of the Order as they did ta' ya'. I'd bet my bottom dollar it'll be hard for them ta' make a final push for the Soul Contest as well." Griffix said confidently.

Shawn shuffled in place, reluctant to be on his way. "What're the odds Gaggles is asleep right now?"

"Oh, I'd say 'tis a small chance. But a chance still. Even if she ain't asleep lad, ya' probably can find away ta' do what ya' need ta' do. I seen ya' doin' all your actin' n' such. I'm pretty sure you'll find a way ta' fool'er. She ain't stupid. But she ain't super smart. Remember: underneath all those tears n' murderous rage...there's a little kid's body. Well know, maybe not little, but a kid your size ta' be sure. So think of it less as goin' against a big person like your Dad or Mum and more like choppin' a kid's nose off who's your own size." Griffix said, helpfully.

That metaphor did not, in fact, help Shawn out with this, but trapped and seeing no choice, he took out his rabbit's paw and started concentrating.

OOC: Shawn Joins Thread

Shawn: A Job to Get Done....