"Why?" It wasn't meant to be a mocking question, but Shawn couldn't really think of anything else to say. How do you respond to a foot high demon declaring its intention to ruin your life?

Feddler stretched his very lean body to  stand erect to a little over two fores tall. However, he had a tendency to hunch over with his back curved forward and his head hanging below his shoulder line.

"I...what?" The Imp said, this time in a thinner voice, as if shocked by the question .

"Why do you want to sour all the things I like and extinguish the good in people?" Seeing the imp's surprise, Shawn was now genuinely curious about the answer. Had it never been asked something like this before?

The imp lurched its head forward, craning itself in Shawn's orbit, leathery wings padding the air as it swayed while it hovered. Then, it resumed its low growling, deep voice and spoke with renewed confidence.

"I am sent by the almighty Daeva, a demon whose knowledge of pain and punishment knows no bounds. When you sleep, and your pillow is comfortable, I will take note of that comfort and defecate in your pillow so that you're next sleep is not as comfortable. And so that it smells bad. Very bad."

"If you should do well in a sporting event, I will add hot talcum powder to your jock strap so that your private parts will itch and so that you do not perform well during the next event. The itching will itchy. Very itchy."

"If you should wear pants and bend over, know that I will be responsible should the seam on your backside tear, exposing your backside for all to see and laugh at."

"Understand that none of these things bring me joy. Rather, I will suffer much pain and anguish the result of my actions. I will see you suffer and then I will punish myself for I am damned to suffer an eternity of punishment. I am nothing. I am less than nothing. And for my sins in a past life, the almighty Daeva has banished me to an eternal life of servitude and punishment against others and against myself."

"Oh. I'm sorry, then. It sounds like you don't want to do that stuff any more than I do." Shawn wasn't sure why he was being so nice to a demon who admitted it wanted to ruin his life, but it seemed like his need to be liked extended even to demonic creatures. He looked over at Crowley to see if he had anything to add, or more products to show off.

"Well..." The imp said, floating up into the air. "I'll....I'll see you back at ummm....ummmm...your place of living." It finished rather lamely, as if unsure how to deal with anything that wasn't in the form of aggressive abuse or punishment. Then it simply flew out of the tent flap, muddering under its breath a bunch of what sounded light recited, memorized lines glorifying torture and punishment.  Shawn thought he heard the Imp say something about making Shawn's life a 'living hell' before it left.

Suddenly, Shawn found himself alone with Crowley again, the baby-faced creature still scratching at its angry, red rash with the biggest of smiles on its face. "So! Do we have a deal then?" He asked.

"I believe you said 1/4 of your soul for the blanket." This part Shawn found familiar.

"And the rest of it for the numbers game." This part Shawn did not remember agreeing to at all.

"It's all about trust." Crowley said, giving Shawn a syrupy smile.

Shawn gave the imp an awkward wave goodbye as it left before turning back to Crowley. "Oh sure, trust's good. But if I gave you my whole soul right now, I couldn't give you more business later. And you still haven't shown me what I'm looking for, but I trust that you'll have it on hand."

"You don't give in easily" Crowely said, and he said it in a miffed, huffy way.

Shawn waited as Crowely waited as if he wanted Shawn to insruct him

"Your products are really good - I want to make sure I get my, uh, soul's worth." Shawn gave him a friendly smile, trying to overwhelm him with charm. "I want something that will make my friend not want to come here - without hurting him or anything like that. And maybe miss his parents less. Do you have something that'll do that?"

Crowely thought for a moment, placing one sharp, yellowed, long fingernail up to his lips.

"I might have something like that. But I told you before its all about trust." he said, slyly.

"You've got to have something else besides soul to give me. And if you don't have anything, then you've got to do something for me. I've got something that needs to be retrieved from somewhere. But that's all I'm going to say about that. That's the deal."

Shawn had been holding back on this since he'd arrived, unsure if it'd be something Crowley would want, but it seemed now was the time. He pulled out the jar of face paint and set it down gently on the counter. "This may look like ordinary face paint, but it's got powerful magic in it; it changes people, makes them different, opposite, even. It's very valuable." He tried with all his actor's conviction to make it sound worth its weight in rubies, perhaps the most important thing ever to be sold.

Crowley watched Shawn, his face turning slightly to one side as Shawn put the jar of face paint on the old wooden table. Feeling the red felt on his finger tips, Shawn let go, allowing the jar of face paint to speak for itself. It sat there in between them, like some official starting point to what might be a lengthy negotiation.

Shawn Rolls Wits + Empathy vs.  Contested by Crowley  (To see if he can read Crowley's reaction to the placement of the Jar)

Shawn Rolls Manipulation + Expression +3 vs. Contested by Crowley (To see if he can convince Crowley)

OOC: 21:04, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 2 successes using 6d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s. Wits + Empathy + WP.

Not sure if the Expression roll gets Striking Looks, so I'll roll them separately.

21:06, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 3 successes using 10d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling on 9 or more with rolls of 3,5,4,3,1,2,6,9(+9,5),10(+3),3.  Manipulation + Expression +3.

This is two successes if Profession Training hasn't kicked in yet.

21:06, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 2 successes using 2d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling on 9 or more with rolls of 8,10(+1).  Striking Looks.

05:07, Today: Evil Circus - Crowley Noggenfogger failed (no successes) using 3d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s ((1,5,2)).

A twitch could be seen on the side of Crowley's face. And with it, the tell-tale sign of a slight smirk. Shawn could immediately tell that this was of value. It was the way Crowley squinted at the jar and the way his eyes remained fixed on the top. He had stopped scratching that angry rash as well.

05:09, Today: Evil Circus - Crowley Noggenfogger failed (no successes) using 5d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s ((4,4,5,2,5)).

Crowley looked up to match Shawn's gaze. It looked like he had been caught. Had been so focused on the object he had let his guard down and wasn't aware that Shawn had been all the while watching him. All the while taking in the fact that he valued the face paint. A bead of sweat began to form on Crowley's bald pate.

"This and 1/4 your soul for the blanket and the Tweed-berry cocktail and its a deal. The Tweed-berry is a bush that is grown only on Circus grounds. Many take it to forget things. You're friend will forget this place exists for at half a year. Then you'll have to come back." 

Shawn realised that Crowley thought the jar was valuable, but remained poker-faced. "Could you maybe throw in the numbers game and tell me how to use it? Please?" He kept his tone sweet and beseeching, trying not to let it on that he noticed Crowley's mistake.

"The Numbers Game..." Crowley repeated, in a contemplative voice, fingernail touching pursed, cracked lips. Then he spoke with rare candor, all the while eyeing the jar of Face Paint.

"It's all about physical cosmology." The baby-faced creature said.

"You have to be in touch with your Darker side to stand of chance of rolling anything other than a ruination die. A ruination die brings ruin. That's why Feddler came about. You rolled a ruination die, which summoned the Demon. To get in touch with your Darker side, you have to do something really mean spirited. Or, you have to get someone to teach you the Dark arts of the Occult." (OOC: Game Translation, this will increase your Occult Skill when determining Good, Good/Bad, Bad - Dice)

"Once that is done, your chances of swallowing numbers and spitting up good things increases. First, you'll get useful information by spitting up die that comes from a source outside of yourself. Eventually you'll spit up a Fortune die. Though truth be told, you really have to play the game many times in a row to get things going, and that means taking risk and having a lot of Stamina."

"Once the Circus opens, the Fortune Teller is your best bet to teach you. But you should have tried many times before seeking her out. Many times to ensure that you are well practiced. I can broker an introduction"

He pushed the wooden box of the Number's Game forward.

"Now.." he said, putting a small packet of powder on top of it. "Tweed-berry cocktail, the Numbers Game and the Blanket. For 1/4 of your soul and the jar... and its a deal."

Shawn agreed with the deal in principle, but he still had a few questions before he could make the final agreement. "Okay, but what sort of mean-spirited stuff do you mean? And how do I use the cocktail? Does it have side-effects or anything like that?"

"You must mix it into the victim's drink. I say victim because no one would willingly forget something in this circumstance. Also, you must do something mean spirited. Something that someone like you would only do for the pure reason of hurting someone. Then you must immediately write down the first number that comes to mind and perform the ritual." Crowley smiled, as if he was satisfied with the deal as it was unfolding.

"O-okay. Are there any side-effects to the drink?" Maybe Shawn was being paranoid, but he was learning that Crowley sometimes 'forgot' questions and had to be reminded.

"Indeed." Crowley said. "There's a chance that the person might forget, at the most, one other singular thing as well. It's hard to say. But there was a Clown named Woodrow who ate the Tweed-Berry. He forgot who Cherrywinks was in addition to forgetting all about how to put on his Clown suit. Cherrywinks lopped off his hand. He ran around for a good 50 years without that hand, and was known as One-hand Woodrow during that time. Before the Great War between the Acrobats and the Clowns that killed him and so many others."

There was a lot to unpack in what Crowley just said, but it sounded like the important bit was acceptable. Shawn would just have to keep an eye on Bobby afterwards to make sure he didn't forget anything really important. "Okay, then we have a deal." Shawn stuck his hand out to shake.

No sooner than Shawn had said the words, then did Crowley feverishly push the Numbers Game forward, the small packet of the Tweed-berry on top of it. He grasped the jar with both hands, bringing it forward and clutching it towards his own body greedily. One eye looked up under a hairless brow at Shawn.

"Oh, yes." Crowley said, as if he had forgotten that shaking hands was a way to seal a deal. Maintaining his crouched position, lurching over the jar, one small baby hand with sharp, long nails extended outward towards Shawn.

"Deal." he said.

"And remember, with the Numbers Game, practice makes perfect. No matter how bad the early results are."

"I-I'll keep that in mind." Shawn shook Crowley's hand gingerly, trying not to cut himself on his sharp fingernails.

OOC: Shawn adds

- Numbers Game

- Tweedberry

- Ralph's Blanket

- Permanent loss of 1 Willpower (1/4 Soul Sold)

to inventory

Shawn Joins Thread:  Shawn: Bobby Must Forget