"It is. You just have to decide if you want the tattoo or not, my dear." She said. And then she went on to explain exactly what that meant

She had her finger on some kind of strange lever. Inside the glass receptacle, Shawn could see that there was some kind of propeller underneath Feddler.

"If you want the Tattoo, than we need to make some ink!"


"Otherwise, his spirit will linger. But don't worry, he's really harmless!"

OOC: Shawn decides

1) Kill Feddler for Tattoo ink: Shawn gets rid of Feddler, making him into tattoo ink. Shawn chooses and arm where the Tattooed Lady will make a tattoo. The discussion proceeds to what the design of the tattoo is. Shawn immediately makes a degeneration roll at the end of the conversation, as the memory Feddler's screams mount.

2) Find another way: Shawn decides against the Tattoo. The Tattooed Lady kills Feddler, but his spirit lives on within Shawn. Feddler will be unable to take any actions against Shawn, but the Storyteller will add italicized dialogue representing Feddler's voice "within" Shawn's head. This effect is permanent.

“Can’t you just, you know, send him back to where he came from?” Shawn knew Feddler was bad, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill him.

"Well, we could just let him go I suppose my dear. If that is what you want, that is what we can do. I'm not here to judge my dear. I'm simply here to take ticket and help you with your problem."

"I used to be in the Freak Show tent. This was a long, long time ago my dear. So it is hardly my job to say what is and isn't a good plan. I'm a real Bearcat, even though I'm in the Circus. So my suggestion would be to end this Imp. I mean, do you really want him hanging around?" She asked.

"I don't really know how to send him back dear. That would be the work of...whatever game that is...what do you call it?"

Shawn just wanted to avoid making a decision, and he found himself trying to weasel out of it. “Can I talk to Feddler? If you don’t do the tattoo, can I trade my ticket in for a different one?”

The Tattooed Lady raised and eyebrow. "If you must my dear, if you must." She repeated in a tone that was a mix between confusion and disgust with Shawn's lack of a choice.

"But don't take too long talking to the Thing. Besides, if you get too attached you never know what can happen. You don't want to be a dewdopper or a lollygagger."

"Turn your ticket in?" The Tattooed Lady now looked shocked. "Maybe if these were different times. But things aren't going so well. Someone or something tried to push Malinda into the well while she dropping the first bits of soul rock for the Proprietor. Also, someone sabotaged the Ferris Wheel ride. And the Bearded Lady is missing."

"I'm afraid we won't be doing any return tickets just now with all of this going on."

"Now go on and talk to Feddler." She said with a dismissive, elongated hand.

Shawn nods seriously at the Tattooed Lady and turns on the charm. “That’s too bad - you did really amazing work on Bradford!”

Then he gingerly approached the glass. “Umm, hi Feddler.”

The sight of the Imp brought back memories of Feddler claiming that he was going to ruin Shawn's life. That he was a representative of some greater Demon and had been charged with doing everything in his impish power to present himself as an obstacle to Shawn.

Now he just looked feeble and weak. A groveling beggar trapped in an artificial prison, scratching at the glass walls.

"I...." Feddler's high voice chirped. "Pleeeeeease. Pleeeease. Pleeeeeazzzzz." He weedled through the muffled glass.

"Don't kill me!"

"Stop that!" The Tattoed Lady shouted. "Stop that begging! I must say, I've already told you, you filthy thing. I HATE when people complain."
She complained, directing her comments to Feddler.

"If you're going to be in my tent, you can't complain. And that means anything: pain from Tattoos, prices. Ink. Anything. So watch it!"

Shawn tried to look stern but understanding. “You did try to ruin my life. And anyway, aren’t you from wherever demons are from? Wouldn’t killing you just send you back there?”

Feddler's wings flapped, but the crystal prison was too small and they got stuck along the walls before they could be fully extended. He looked up at Shawn helplessly and shook his head.

"No!" He cried in a high-pitched, yet muffled voice. "I am duty-bound to finish the mission that my Dark Lord has given me. If they kill me, I'll lose the form for which my Dark Lord cast me out of shadows.  I can only return once his bidding has been completed."


"You must let me out!" He shouted in an urgent shriek. "I do not want to wish to suffer his wrath. You cannot know the pain he would bring me. I must be released from this prison, so that I may go about with the task I have been given."

"I said STOP!" The Tattooed Lady yelled.

Shawn looked over and saw that her head was down. She was covering her ears like someone who had just heard nails on a chalkboard. All over her skin, the tattooed markings and designs were standing out tight against her skin, like someone who was too skinny or perhaps had lost some circulation.

“Are you all right, miss?” Shawn looked at the Tattooed Lady with some concern. She hadn’t asked anyone to stop before...

She appeared annoyed and angry. But she didn't say anything back to Shawn. In a brief moment of silence, Shawn watched as the Tattooed Lady let her hands drop to her sides slowly, sinewy muscles working on the side of her neck and head.

She looked up with a cautious glance.



"I don't like complaints." She explained.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:44, Sat 17 Feb 2018.

Behind Shawn, Feddler was scratching at the glass, trying to get his attention again.

"Heeeelllpp...get me out of here. You have to." His voice strained.

“But if I do that, you’ll go back to ruining my life, won’t you?” Shawn wasn’t sure what to do here; the imp’s pathetic scrabbling mad it seem pitiful, but he also remembered all the times it had made things worse for him.

"I...won't." Feddler wheedled. For the first time, Shawn say what looked like a sense of remorse or shame in Feddler's eyes.

"Get me out! Please!"

Maybe it was just the small imp's strange facial expression under the yellow-stained glass.

"I....I..."

“Would you swear? You said your boss wants you to do your job no matter what...” Trust was the main problem for Shawn; he didn’t want to hurt Feddler, not really. He turned to the Tattooed Lady. “Is there any way to make him keep his promises?”

SMASH!



Shawn had only turned halfway towards the Tattooed Lady when the glass jar exploded.

His eyes instictively closed as small chips of glass splinters showered across the front of his shirt, stinging his face. He turned his face as he felt warm liquid lap over his hair, face and hands, drenching his entire torso.

As he opened his eyes, he had to close them quickly to avoid Feddler's blood from dripping from his forehead into his eyes. The glass jar was a spikey fragment on top of a table slick with red blood.

The front of Shawn's body was splattered with the gout of hot blood that shot out of the jar. The front of Shawn's face had bits of brains plastered hard against his skin.  He instinctively spit out small skull fragments--Feddler's--as he took one step backwards.

Turning his head, Shawn saw the Tattooed Lady holding the electric needle in her left hand. It was thrumming and vibrating as the needle retracted and pushed forth, spewing a mixture of dark green ink, shards of glass and Feddler's blood all over the floor, the long, black cord trailing behind it and leading to the chair.



"I told him to stop." She said, in a matter of fact voice, as if that was enough of an explanation for killing the imp. The thrumming noise of the needle continued to fill the silence after she spoke.

Shawn just gaped at the woman, in opened-mouthed shock. She'd just...killed the imp!

The Tattooed Lady put the needle down and then it stopped moving.

"Well. That's that I suppose." She said.

There was a long pause.

"You were taking a long time." She added, suddenly somehow shifting the blame onto Shawn. Or at least that was how it sounded.

Shawn was immediately acutely aware that he was by himself, and that the Tattooed Lady was apparently quite murderous. "Thank you so much - I'm really sorry if I was taking too long." Hopefully, he could placate her and avoid any further issues.

"These aren't very easy times my dear child." The Tattoed Lady responded. There was blood spattered all up the sides of her hand and forearm, like she had placed her hand inside bloody bath water.

"It's not OK that you took to long. It's not OK that you took too long getting here. And it's not OK that you took too long in making your decision about the Imp. These are not OK times."

She sat down on a nearby stool. There were three mirrors behind her, each decorated with a frame of bright light bulbs, the kind that Shawn was used to seeing during makeup and wardrobe on the movie sets he frequented. With that bloody, delicate hand, and her long elegant fingers, the Tattoed Lady produced a cigarette complete with a filter. Lighting the cigarette with a demur flourish and a practiced grace, she exhaled three smoke rings.

"The Fortune Teller's ascent was supposed to bring some order to the Order. And too the Circus for that matter."

The first smoke ring transmogrified into the shape of the Fortune Teller's Tent. Shawn could see movement within that ring of smoke. Whispy tendrils that became figures in the tent, battle scenes acted out between the Clown Troup and the Order. Perhaps they were of the recent conflict, though they could have happened long ago, many many times.

Shawn was only vaguely aware of the politics involved here, but he felt like he needed to reassure the Tattooed Lady. "I'm sure the Order knows what it's doing. The clowns were bad for the Circus."

"What's happening now is all the more concerning my dear, because no one knows what or who is causing these problems." She said, taking a deep drag from the cigarette. The second smoke ring had formed into the shape of a Ferris Wheel, whispy tendrils burning up into the roof of the tent.

Both Shawn and the Tattooed Lady were watching the smoke rings dance in the stagnant air above their heads. The burning Ferris Wheel of smoke dissappeared into the rafters.  As it did, both Shawn and the woman noticed something stirring within Feddler's body. The air near his dead, blood corpse seemed to stir in the air above his head.

But the smoke was black and green.

It different distinctly from the smoke that the Tattooed Lady had exalted in both color and smell. There was something rancid about the smell as the green, black whisps traveled upwards into the air. They gently traversed the space above Shawn's head and then slowly descended downward, funneling into a single, straight line of smoke directly toward Shawn's mouth.

OOC: Shawn Rolls Resolve + Occult with the following results (Willpower can be used)

0-2 Successes: The smoke enters Shawn's nostrils and mouth, pushing inward into his chest. EFFECT: Feddler is inside Shawn permanently. Occassionally, Feddler will retain the ability to act against Shawn's interests. Apply 3-4 result as well. Shawn gains condition: Evil Spirit Within.

3-4 Successes: Feddler is inside of Shawn and his voice will make itself known through italicized red text. It is an inner voice that cannot be heard by others. Shawn gains condition: Voice in my head.

5+ Successes: Shawn coughs and exhales the Feddler smoke before it can get inside of him.