Shawn felt like he'd much rather just keep his eyes closed. He knew he was 'asleep', but these dreams were tiring in their own way, even if they weren't as bad as his actual frequent nightmares. But, eventually he mustered up the will to open his eyes; he was too afraid of what Feddler might do if left to his own devices to do otherwise. He opened his eyes, wondering what weird thing his dreaming mind had conjured up for him this time.

Feddler came into his mind's eye as Shawn opened his real eyes. Or his 'real eyes' in the dream. He was on stage again. The garbage was flowing all around him.

"You are awake." Feddler said. "But you are dreaming."

"I used to dream about being away. I am from beyond the Krinner. I have been looking through your memories and how you betrayed some of the kids in the log cabin. This is more evidence that you are bad." Feddler remarked.

"But that is not my concern right now, because I have sworn not to destroy you so long as I am inside of your mind."

"Something is happening that is wrong. More wrong than what you have been going through with the character 'Mr. Cherrywinks' that I learned about. And more wrong that the so-called 'Soul contest' that I was reviews. Something is wrong. Can you feel it?"

Shawn paused to try and feel...whatever it was that Feddler was talking about. Aside from his normal hazy dream-feelings, and the stress he usually felt, there didn't seem to be anything amiss. "I don't think so? What's wrong?"

"If you tell enough lies, often enough, the truth will become entirely hidden from you… and then you are in hell."



"I have been looking through some of your lies. I think you have been hiding something from yourself. I think something bad is going to happen soon."

Shawn looked around in confusion, feeling the sense of vague dread he felt whenever someone managed to call him on one of his lies. "What do you mean? And how could me hiding something from myself be worse than Cherrywinks? Even if that was true."

"Just listen for once!" Feddler yelled in his high, whiny tone, the noise cancelling out any sound of the river of garbage that was flowing around the stage.

There was silence. Feddler saying nothing. The sound of the river of garbage, plastic and glass clinking together with water against the island that was the stage.

"Have you thought about how this ends? Have you thought about how this thing with Mr. Cherrywinks and with the Order, and with the whole thing, ends?"

True to Feddler's request, Shawn kept silent and just listened, not replying to the imp. In truth, he didn't want to answer the question out loud, because even thinking about it too hard might expose how ridiculous it was. In his heart of hearts, he hoped that maybe the Circus would do its dark business without Shawn's help, and then go back into dormancy. Or, in his wildest fantasies, it would just collapse, running out of souls before it could hurt anyone, leaving no one to come after him. And then, with the Circus gone, he could go back to his normal life, imperfect though it was.

Shawn wondered if Feddler could just pluck the answer from his head...

There was a moment of silence. Shawn felt the now familiar sensation of Feddler shifting around in there, parchment papers of old memories and photographs being sifted through. Or maybe it was just this dream. Shawn had heard two old adults on a bus one time talking about dreams. About how dreams might be a way of 'working things out' like a math problem that was particularly difficult when you were awake.

"That is not how it is going to end." Feddler suddenly said. "If you do nothing, this is going to end in a way that ensures that you an everyone else dies. And that means me too. Then I will have to go back and suffer the pain that I must suffer for failure."

"It will be unimaginable pain and suffering. Did you know that beyond the Krinner, they stretch out skin and scratch out eyes? For hours? Even days?"

 

Shawn swallowed loudly, not wanting to think about his death or what would happen after it. It wasn't fair! He was just a kid, he shouldn't have to think about this kind of stuff! He broke his silence. "What could I even do? I'm not important enough to change these things! I don't even know where to start!"

"I do not know."  Feddler said finally in a voice that echoed within Shawn's head. "Maybe this is just a place where we think about it. Maybe this stage is a place where we start to think. It might be that this dream could be a place where we just start. When I had to make the long journey from the Krinner, past the great rock, to be summoned by the Numbers Game, I started by putting one flaw in front of the other." He offered, however unhelpfully.

Shawn counted to three and tried to get his sense of anger and unfairness under control. He did a little acting exercise in his head, trying to get ‘in character’ as a nicer, patient, determined person. “Well, I don’t have any ideas. I thought I could get something out of Cherrywinks, but he tried to kill me before I could trick him.”

"Well, you have to come up with something. You cannot allow us to die! You cannot.....what's that?"

There was a loud cranking sound from the rafters above the stage. Light from one of the spotlights up above came down upon Shawn, bright and harsh, area where he was standing. Through the blinding white, Shawn could see movement, something was being lowered unto the stage from up above.

Shawn shaded his eyes with his hands as he found himself near blinded by the light. He squinted at the descending shape, trying to judge if it was coming down on top of his! He wasn't sure if he could be hurt inside a dream, but he didn't want to find out!

The thing came down landing on the stage in front of Shawn with a soft, graceful dismount. Then it sprang upward, limbs and head coming suddenly alive, thanks to whatever strings and wires it was attatched to that Shawn could now see in the dim light.




"Surprise!" Mr. Clayton said to Shawn with a big smile on his face. It was Bradfords puppet, in Shawn's dream.

"What the hell is that?" Feddler asked, receding into the corner of Shawn's mind, distrustful of the puppet.

Shawn was too busy scrambling away from the...thing in front of him. It was like some awful combination of the scariest parts of a marionette and a ventriloquist dummy. He recognized it as Bradford’s, but that wasn’t important to him right now. He was torn between closing his eyes and trying to wake up, and the fear of what might happen if he looked away for even a second. He had vivid visions of getting strung up and moved around, or having a hand stuck up the back of his shirt that made him say things.

"Yes! It's me, Mr. Clayton. I've been fiddling around in the magic of the Circus my dear Shawn" Mr. Clayton announced with bravado. "Why, you look afraid, my boy. Trust me, I'm not here to hurt you in any way. Not at all, I'm here to tell jokes and to talk about the way forward. Yuckka-Yuckka! How does that sound to you?"

 It was Bradfords puppet alright. And the strings above wavered and crossed as its limbs moved, screeching against each other high above in the rafters, the sound of metal cords on metal cords.

Shawn couldn’t meet Mr. Clayton’s gaze out of some deep primal fear. He settled for looking at his tie, trying to ignore the screeching of wires overhead. Despite the dummy’ assurances, he suspected Mr. Clayton and Bradford still resented him. “M-maybe you can just send me a note? This dream stuff’s weird...”

"A note! A note! He wants a note! " Mr. Clayton announced in disbelief. "But if I wrote you a note and left it on your pillow, how would you know it was me? How would you know it was me and not some other Circus freak? I know your friend Griffix likes to leave notes. Maybe he even left you one. Or two. Or maybe one time he left you a note. Hmmmmm?  A note. No.  A note wouldn't do Shawn. Not at all. Some things we have to talk about. Somethings we have to meet to talk about. We have to meet and discuss. Dangerous things. Dangerous things that no one else can talk about. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"He's going to talk about destroying the Circus." Feddler said, coming to the forefront of Shawn's mind to fill the void and provide and answer, even it if it was only in Shawn's head.

Shawn still couldn't look directly at Mr. Clayton, too terrified to confront him. "M-maybe you could send Bradford? Or maybe l-look a little smaller? I don't like this dream..."

The fear was mounting and Mr. Clayton gave a terrifying chuckle.

"Bradford, Bradford, Bradford" He said in a mockery of Shawn's voice. "Everyone always wants to play with Bradford."

"Bradford isn't really that great of a kid, you know? He's angry and resentful and hurt. And deep down inside, he hates you. He hates YOU!" Mr. Clayton emphasized.

And then, as if someone pulled a rip-cord, the sound of screeching metal yanked the puppet upwards into the spotlight. Shawn could see its shadowy outline on the floor of the stage as it ascended rapidly out of sight.

And just like that, Mr. Clayton was gone.

"He is lying." Feddler insisted, breaking the silence in Shawn's head. "I do not think we should trust him."

OOC: Shawn Rolls Wits + Occult

OOC:  10:15, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 1 success using 6d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 5,4,9,6,7,7.  Wits + Occult + WP.

There was something odd that Shawn noticed. It didnt' strike him at first. The light was blinding and the scary puppet was zooming out of sight. The vision was faster than the sound in Shawn's dream. But he noticed it all the same.

Feddler had used the word "We."

A slight change from the Imp's normal way of talking perhaps. But a change all the same. Did it happen? In Shawn's dream it certainly did. But did dream's 'count?'

This was the last thought that Shawn had cross his mind before he woke up.

OOC: End Thread