"How much for the blanket?" Shawn tried to keep his expression and interest restrained. He remembered Mr. Sellick when he was asking for something from a producer - you couldn't look too desperate, and you had to look like you could walk away whenever you wanted. "What other stuff do you have? Is it all just stuff you've taken from people?"

"The blanket, costs a lot of soul." Crowley explained.  It was clear that he wanted Shawn to pay top dollar for the rubba sucky. "You can give me say, half your soul." Crowley said, giving Shawn a hopeful look.

The baby, pawnshop owner was starting a protracted negotiation, trying to get the most out of Shawn.

Shawn Rolls Manipulation + Subterfuge + Striking Looks (vs. Crowely contested) with the following results:

0 Successes: The cost is half of Shawn's soul

1-3 Successes: The cost is a good chunk of Shawn's soul

4+ Successes: Shawn gets Crowley down to a small piece of his soul

"All right, so you agree to a small piece of soul." Shawn, despite being an inexperienced negotiator, was good enough at hiding his true desires that he was able to haggle Crowley down. However, while the blanket was good, it didn't solve what Shawn thought of as his most pressing problem; preventing Bobby from trying to return in the future. Maybe he could push his luck, just a little bit. "Unless...you want to throw something else in? Mr. Crowley, is all this stuff here from visitors, or do you have anything, y'know, magic?"

OOC: 18:54, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 4 successes using 12d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling on 9 or more ((4,5,2,1,4,4,8,1,10(+10,2),4,8,1)).

Not sure if Profession Training has kicked in or not for the 9-again, though looking at the roll numbers, it didn't matter either way.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:03, Sun 19 Feb 2017.

"You drive a hard bargain." Crowley said after having been haggled down to just a piece of Shawn's soul. "I think you'll find that this place has more than just the random item that I found on the street. In fact, many of these very items have been found throughout the history of the Circus. We're carney folk by nature. And being carnies, it's important that you know, that we know where to look on the ground. The ground is where the patrons drop all of their own goods."

Shawn looked around: There was an assortment of regular looking hats, wallets, pocket books, foreign dollar bills, sun glasses and walking canes. The standard fair of things that fall from roller coaster rides during fairs. But none of this seemed to answe Shawn's question, so he just waited until Crowley, who appeared interested in selling him anything, finished.

It was clear that Crowley had't showed him the real goods and it wasn't clear why he was holding back.  OOC: Shawn Rolls Wits + Subterfuge to gauge the situation

"If you're interested in magic, let's start with the basics...." Crowley said, pointing with one sharp nail at two items on a shelf.

OOC:

1) Soul Crack = Smoke it and Shawn gets to make any wish he wants (Subject to the Proprietors approval)

2) The Number Game = A small wooden box sits on the stack, it's just labeled 'The Number Game'

OOC:  22:21, Today: Shawn Cramer failed (no successes) using 5d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling on 9 or more with rolls of 2,2,5,6,2.  Wits + Subterfuge

Shawn looked at the two items - soul crack sounded a lot like the pieces of soul the other clowns had mentioned, but he had no idea what the Number Game. "What's the Number Game?"

He looked over the other items on the shelf, frowning a little as he didn't see anything that looked like what he wanted. Then again, he had no way of recognizing what he wanted. "I have a...a friend. His parents died and I'm worried he might try to come here and get hurt. Do you have something that'd stop him from wanting to come here?"

Crowely shifted uncomfortably once Shawn moved to the other items.  He waddled over like a baby with a full diaper.

"Those goods are for sale as well. But only for super-duper-fantastic-fabulotious clients. That means you have to do something for me so that I can trust you." He held up one hand to Shawn as if expecting some kind of protest. "Or if you've got something to Pawn. Something I might be interested in. Soul's only gonna get you so far in the Pawn shop." He finished.

Turning back to what was for sale, he picked up the number game box, placing the old, wooden board game on the counter.

"This is the Number Game." He announced with a slight smile. "You write a number down and then you swallow it. Then you see what you get. It's like cracker jacks, only you're the box! Interested in playing a trial run to see if you want to buy it?" His baby hands with long, sharp ends, thrummed a beat on the side of the box that sounded like pencils jabbing into wood, rhythmically.

Shawn wasn't sure why Crowley seemed uncomfortable, but a lot of this would depend on trust, right? He had to build trust with Crowley to get a good deal, and that would mean playing along a little, even if he wasn't sure what was going on. "If you promise I don't have to pay for this time..." He wrote down the number '10', since he was 10, and swallowed it.

"The first is free. If you like the game, then you can find something to trade for it. Maybe one more piece of your soul, or if you find something of value to me. And remember, if you ever need anything, this is more than just a place to buy and trade. This of course, is a Pawn shop. All good patrons with manners can Pawn something of value in exchange for quick, soul-rock cash." He explained in his nasely voice, all the while scratching at that angry, red rash.

"Now, let's get started. This is a fun game. An old game. This game came from an old Bedouin that Pawned it last century for soul-rock cash. He found a way to get inside the Circus after years of practicing Occult. Very few have made it hear without running across the Clowns, especially since the Circus lies dormant for long periods of time until someone finds the Cherrywinks' nose. Once that happens, we start opening for business as usual. This Occultist found a way to access the nether regions and called on wayward Djinns to help him map a path through his world to ours. When he got here, I was surprised, because as I said very few have been able to get here without making some kind of deal with the Circus, and he managed to do so when we were completely off the map."

Crowley chuckled as his fingers pried open the old wooden box. All the while, Shawn was chewing on the piece of paper, swallowing as the wet, tasteless matter made its way down his throat.

Inside the box.....Shawn saw numbers. Each and every person that Shawn had ever seen or met was a number. The numbers he saw, or more accurately impriminted on Shawn's mind, were...

OOC: Shawn Rolls Wits + Occult with the following results:

0 Successes: Something bad happens

1 Success: Something good/bad happens

2+ Successes: Something good happens.

OOC: 22:21, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 1 success using 1d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 9.  Wits + Occult (Chance Die).

This is actually a failure, since it was a chance die.

...the numbers of demons. Demons that traversed the words between our own, from the innumerable manuscripts of old, ancient archaic and mostly forgotten knowledge. Shawn felt a surge in his stomach, and as he did, the small wooden box began to shake.  Crowley let go of it, smiling as he looked up at Shawn as if he could tell what was about to happen next.

"Feddilitch....suppletic, Grabber-Fitch!" Crowley announced, clapping his baby hands together, the words streaming out of his mouth in a strange, Occult-like gibberish.

"Oh, I can tell by your face, it's going to be a Ruination die!" he announced excitedly.

Shawn's stomach lurched with each shake of the wooden box. The box jumped in the air and Shawn felt a powerful thrust, bile clawing at the back of his throat. His head pushed forward as a violent spasm took his body. Vomit forced its way out, green and acidic. There was a loud clunk on the floor as something heavy and multi-sided hit the ground with a wet, heavy 'thlop'.  It was a heavy, stone die, spinning on the wooden floor under the base of one of the tables, near the frozen earth. It spun and spun spitting bits of vomit and bile everywhere in its radius, until it fell of the wooden edge and landed on the frozen earth...

OOC: Shawn Rolls 1d10 to determine which Demon the Ruination die lands on:

1-2) Anamalech: The die lands on the Anamalech Demon, which appears to bestow upon Shawn a new kind of fear: Shawn gains the following trigger: Phobia - Fear of Fire. When a person with the Phobia trigger encounters the target of her phobia, the player must make a successful Resolve + Composure roll to avoid activating the trigger. Success means the character has managed to avoid the trigger’s effect for the scene. Fail- ure means the trigger activates. While active, the chararacter  suffers a -5 penalty when performing any activity that is not directly related to removing herself from the presence of the phobia-target.

3-4) Bushyasta: The die lands on the Bushyasta Demon, which appears to bestow upon Shawn a new kind of compulsion: Shawn gains the following Compulsion: Compulsion with hair and eyebrows. Shawn incessantly plucks and pulls eyebrow hair and hair on head. When the Compulsion trigger is activated, the player rolls Resolve + Composure. If the roll fails, the character engages in a particular compulsive behavior for a scene.

5-6) Daeva: The die lands on the Daeva Demon, which appears to bestow upon Shawn an evil, impish follower named Feddler. Feddler appears at random times in random scenes (Secret St Roll). When he appears, he usually attempts to ruin Shawn's plans for the scene unless satisfied somehow.

7-8) Demogorgon: The die lands on the Demogorgon demon, which appears to bestow upon Shawn a head that sprouts from Shawn's shoulder. This head acts as a Shawn's inner monologue, a second voice that interjects itself into Shawn's mind. Occassionally, it takes a physical form, literally sprouting from Shawn's shoulder.

9-10) Ifrit: The die lands on the Ifrit Demon, which appears to bestow upon Shawn a curse: Shawn's Shadow becomes animated and evil. Every scene when the storyteller describes Shadows, Shawn must roll Resolve + Composure. A failure results in Shawn's Shadow becoming animated and alive. The Shadow almost always has cruel, murderous intentions, seeking to maim and injure PCs and Non-PCs in a given scene.

Retching and coughing, Shawn immediately regretted his decision to play the Number Game.

OOC: 14:04, Today: Shawn Cramer failed (no successes) using 1d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s ((6)). 

A demonic form took shape from a shadowy mist immediately as the die landed on a demonic symbol. It was a conjuring of an animalistic demon. The clouds above the Circus tents grew dark and blood red. Inside Crowley's tent, the air became suffocatingly hot.

The demon, which appeared as a two-headed dog, belched a stream of pinkish flesh onto the floor, before disappearing. The flesh began to bubble and pop in front of Shawn as it began to take form.

"Sometimes an old soul makes a new companion." Crowley said, marveling at the occurrence and scratching that rash from his neck to the top of his head.

Shawn slowly backed away from the flesh puddle. "What's...what's it going to do?"

"It looks like you conjured Daeva, a demon from a world between our own with the ruination die. Looks like it purged an evil spirit from its world so that it might attatched itself to your essence. There's really no telling what form it will take."

"That hasn't happened in a long while. The last one to play the number game was granted feline characteristics, including nine extra lives. This really is something you don't see often. Good roll!"



In front of Shawn, the blob of meat flesh writhed and sprouted two fleshly bat wings. It be an to hover over the earth, dripping bits of grisle and flaps of skin.

"How is it good that an evil spirit's attached itself to me!" Shawn didn't shout, but his voice was definitely getting a little louder and more panicky.

Crowley thought about that for a moment as the flesh pile sprouted skinny arms and long fingers with sharp nails. "It's not a good thing. Not good at all. But it might be worse. Well, maybe not. Really, I don't know. Maybe you can get it to do the bad things that you don't like to do. Maybe you can give it things that it wants so it doesn't hurt you. Maybe you can fall into a routine with it. You'd be surprised the things that you can get used to in this life."

"Is there any way to get rid of it?" Shawn was starting to freak out - his life had enough problems right now, he couldn't even begin to figure out to stop a demon from ruining everything.

Shawn looked around as Crowley scratched his head some more. The creature connected joints together, the crackling of bones, a humanoid skull coming into form from the center of a heap of flesh.

"Well, you could buy the game and play again?" Crowley offered with a smile.

"That - oh." Shawn was brought up short as he realised what his overconfidence had led him to. He'd managed to bargain Crowley down the first time, but walked right into his trick. Still, he had to keep his eyes on the prize - he couldn't get distracted.

"Maybe...but first I want to find something that'll make my friend not want to come here. Then maybe I'll see if I've got enough to buy the Game." If Shawn did buy the Numbers Game, he'd have to ask for lessons before he used it again.

Crowely smiled a knowing, greasy smile. "Are you sure? I could throw both the game and the kids blanket in for 3/4 of your soul." He offered, and Shawn could sense the Wiley creature was sniffing for a deal of some kind.

Meanwhile the heap of flesh had finished forming in front of Shawn with a series of strange knuckle cracking sounds. It was an imp, approximately one foot tall. It hovered in the air in front of Shawn's waist.

"I am Feddler. My summoning begins your debt, mortal." It said in a thin voice.

"If you're willing to sell me a package deal, you can do three as easily as two. And I know you could go lower than 3/4..." Shawn tried to get back into negotiation mode; now there was even more at stake than before.

This was made that much more difficult by the sudden appearance of an imp. "Hello, Feddler, my name is Shawn. What do you mean by debt?"

"But I'm giving you the special price." Crowely weedled. "There's a price for clients and then there's a special price for friends. Also, these wares are top quality. You won't find a better Pawn shop in all the Nether regions. The goods have been made with the utmost suffering in mind.

"I don't know, Crowley; I need to see your items first. And I think you can go lower than that - I know there's a margin on these things." Shawn didn't really know what a margin was, but it was something Mr. Sellick and the producers he occasionally met mentioned and it sounded business related. He was trying to play hardball; it was a little incongruous coming from a ten year old, but he was delivering it as best he could.

Crowley seemed dissappointed by Shawn's haggling. But it was the Imp that seemed to be taken aback the most. Not by the discussion that Shawn and Crowley were having, but rather, by Shawn's own introduction. Finding it's voice oncemore, Feddler spoke in a low, demon-growl.

"I am Feddler. I am your curse and your end. I am the beginning of your pain. I am the...." He stopped when Shawn introduced himself. "Don't interrupt me..." He said, seemingly sidetracked.

"I seek to do evil and undo all good. I see the good in people and I extinguish it with darkness. I find the things that you like and I turn them sour like putrid fruit. The fruit of the tree of life, which you harvest for sustenance, will be forevermore replaced with poison, so that you may taste eternal pain in accordance with Daeva, the bringer of Darkness."