And so later on that night, Shawn made his way into the closet. It was different this time. The pressure of school and Mom and acting and Bobby vs. Ralph was gone. The freedom of summer had replaced those worries and taping for the movie wasn't supposed to begin for at least several more weeks.

Still, there was a growing sense of worrying exploration. The discordant feeling that Shawn was entering into something that was scary and unknown. This wasn't something that Shawn felt, per say. They may not have been his feelings at all. But rather, an external feeling that seemed to press upon his mind. Like fingers probing. But worse than that, it was the possibility that whatever Shawn was getting into, may have been better left unexplored.

And so Shawn stared vacantly at the Circus before him. The sky blood-red. Orange clouds a smear across the horizon, flags on the big-top tents hanging lazily in the slight breeze. The smell of stale popcorn and old taffy filled the air like a rotten funk.

Shawn had managed to broker peace in his household, but he knew it'd come at a cost. And this was him paying it. He looked at his surroundings, fear gripping his heart. But it was far far too late to back out now. He tried to remember where the Bearded Woman was supposed to be, and started to head in that direction.

A crimson darkness bled out from the sky. The sky always seemed to be red in this world. Or wherever the Circus seemed to pop up. And as Shawn continued to walk, it seemed that things were starting to pick up somewhat in terms of activity.

Sure, the Circus still seemed to be empty. But now the rides were moving, even though they had no operators, no patrons. Where there was once silence, now a jaunty accordion tune played out from nowhere and everywhere at once. He passes a popcorn machine, kernels crackling and the smell of fake butter filling his nostrils, even though no one was there to purchase any. In one gaming booth, a few pinball machines and other, older, penny-arcade games were lit up with lights, the games seeming to play themselves as if some old ghosts were out for a night of fun and had stopped by to play but were invisible to everyone else.

Shawn spotted a familiar figure approaching.



"Hey sweety. Need some ink?" the Tattooed Lady asked him. She was smoking a thin cigarette and holding the almost ludicrously long filter with one gloved hand. There was something effeminate and refined it the way she held it, the thin wisp of smoke coming out of the end and curling into the air.

Shawn recognized the Tattooed Lady from the last time he was here. He tried to act as respectful as he could - he didn't want to end up like the others. "No thank you, ma'am. Thanks for the offer." He didn't want to mention his task - there were clearly politics at work in the Circus, and he didn't want to risk the Tattooed Lady turning out to be opposed to the Fortune Teller for one reason or another.

The Tattooed Lady gave Shawn a knowing look. Like she had some kind of secret or knowledge that was funny to her. Like she knew something Shawn didn't know.

"Suit yourself darlin'. We'll see each other again than. Some other time." And she passed on by, walking down towards Side-Show Alley.

Shawn gave a respectful bow as the woman passed. No particular reason why, it just seemed like something she'd like, and he most definitely did not want to be on her bad side. Once she'd passed, he continued on his way.

Passing along and downside the hill, Shawn saw a new structure he hadn't seen before. A lopsided tent read: Freak-show Tent. There was a small crowd of flies--a swarm--buzzing around outside. Inside the tent, someone was humming.

Shawn tried to peek inside the tent before walking in. It'd make sense if he could find a Bearded Woman inside the Freak-Shawn tent, right?

Shawn peaked inside the tent. There was a funny smell. Like mayonnaise when a new jar is opened. Maybe a little spoiled.

The tent itself was bright. There were three large pedestals and rows of cages. Some were opened. Others had mirrors. A few were draped with leopard skins or some other strange, wild animals furs.

"Tra-La-La!" A high pitched voice sang out. Shawn saw, it was, in fact, a bearded woman.

Shawn tried to ignore the smell and moved back a little so it wasn't obvious he had been peeking. Then he cleared his throat and called into the tent. "Hello? I'm here to see the bearded lady?"

"Oh my goodness, sweeety!" The woman got up, large beard dangling from her face. She came upon Shawn, as if to hug him. Large big arms spread out wide.

Shawn awkwardly accepted the hug, afraid of what might happen if he refused. "It's nice to meet you, miss."

"Let me tell you sweety!" The Bearded woman said after a bear hug of an embrace. Shawn saw that the woman's body was fat, littered with skin tags around her armpits. Voluptuous breasts bounced as she pranced about the room speaking.

"You're new sweety. You're a bright, fine strong boy, aren't you? You look happy. Energy is that amazing feeling that comes to life inside of you when you're happy and believe in yourself." She said.

Then she paused and looked sad.

"I'm so fat. Aren't I? I spent my childhood eating. The only exercise I got was trying to twist off the cap of a jar of mayonnaise." She lamented looking sad before brightening up. The random thoughts kept coming on. A barrage of stream-of-consciousness.

"When I lost my weight, I went and bought about 15 different types of underwear to see what would look good on my new body. It's exciting!"

"I think you look fine, miss." Shawn rattled off the compliment without particularly thinking about it. It didn't even register as a lie to him, it was just part of meeting someone; open by saying something nice, first impressions are so important.

It was clear that the lie was just what the doctor ordered. As if every moment in Shawn's life--all the lies really-had made it easier for a person just like him to get by in a situation like this. Shawn didn't have much time to think about this, the Bearded Woman already back at it, blasting him with another barrage of thoughts made into words.

"That's so sweet of you! No matter what a woman looks like, if she's confident, she's sexy. If something doesn't look right, throw some glitter on it, that's what I say, sweety." the words coming out in a lispy drawl: Ssssweeeeety. There was something masculine about this bearded woman, but somehow feminine. Shawn got the sense that his father wouldn't approve of this person's mannerisms. Like the time that Dad saw Shawn watching Pee Wee's Play House. Dad had shut off the TV at that time, simply saying: 'A man shouldn't behave that way.'
This message was last edited by the player at 02:48, Tue 11 Apr 2017.

Shawn was a little confused by the Bearded Woman's antics, but it didn't make him particularly uncomfortable. Except in the baseline sense that she was a part of a murderous demon circus, he supposed, but he was getting better at suppressing that dull terror. Besides, he'd spent time on Hollywood sets, and people there acted weird all the time. He'd just learned to be patient and not to judge. "So, umm, miss, the Fortune Teller sent me here to see you, it sounded like a pretty important errand." He automatically phrased it to convey a hidden compliment, implying that the Bearded Woman must be held in high regard by the Fortune Teller to be trusted with such a critical task.

The woman frowned. A frown that deepened. Creases formed on her jowls and her face went slack with worry, disappointment.

"It was a one time thing!" She complained. "At least I can say that I'm honest. I ask for one favor years ago, and I have to keep paying and paying? I want to upset people, I want to make people think, I want to keep people interested. That's what the Freak House is about!!!" She yelled suddenly. It was a mixture of anger, but also of unjust sadness.

"Male performers have been doing this for years - pushing the envelope - and the minute a woman does it, everybody freaks out."

It was clear that she wanted Shawn to somehow explain this injustice. In this way, the Bearded Woman was acting more like a child than a...than a....a Freak?

"That does seem unfair." Shawn's look conveyed sympathy, though he wasn't sure  what favour the Bearded Woman was talking about. Was it the beard? He wondered if it'd be rude to ask.

"You're damn right it is!" The Bearded Woman said, language getting a little foul for the environment in which Shawn was raised. Then again, Shawn was in an evil circus so perhaps it fit.

As if on queue, she followed it up with a loud burb. "burrrrrrrrrp." And then, she said

"Excuse me. What I'm trying to say is that the Beard is what made me special. It made me more than just a fat woman. The fattest woman. And so that's what I asked for. And now she's making me pay all over again! No way! No way! I already paid the Fortune Teller!" She said.

"I won't do it!" She cried, folding her fat, pasty arms in defiance.

That little statement got Shawn's full attention right away. Failure was not an option right now, not if he wanted to keep existing. He tried to play it cool. "Umm, are you sure that's a good idea? I don't think we want to make the Fortuneteller mad, right?"

This woman...if she was a woman, was driven by emotion. Dad used to say that a lot about women. How they couldn't be trusted with simple things because they would let their emotions get the best of them. 'Histrionic.' That was the word he used. And if Dad was right, then it was on full display now.

"It's not fair. I want to be regal and majestic. Glamour is part of me, and I want to be dandy."

Shawn hoped that if flattery got him into this mess, hopefully flattery would get him out of it. "But miss, you're already so elegant and dazzling and incredible! You shouldn't risk all that to stiff the Fortune Teller; you owe it to your fans."

It became less of a conversation and more of a dance or a boxing match. The attacks and jabs weren't physical, but rather verbal. Shawn picking the right moment to set of a flurry of compliments, the Bearded Woman trying to hold on--unwittingly--to her pride and sense of injustice.

OOC: Shawn Rolls a contested roll of Manipulation + Socialize + Striking looks +1 vs. Bearded Woman

OOC: 07:50, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 1 success using 8d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s. Manipulation + Socialize + Striking looks +1.

09:15, Today: Evil Circus - The Bearded Woman rolled 1 success using 3d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s ((6,9,7)).


Rather than the dance of conversation that Shawn was familiar with having when trying to convince Mom or Dad about something, this was more of an exhausting battle of Stamina. The Bearded Woman would complain and complain. And Shawn, for his part, would feed her ego, stroking it and saying that everything was unfair, more or less agreeing and then highlighting the how they wish there were some other course of action but what could they do?

Still, the Bearded Woman seemed set on self-pity, Shawn would have to keep trying

OOC: Shawn rolls again

OOC:  12:04, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 2 successes using 8d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 6,5,8,5,5,5,10(+1),4.  Manipulation + Socialize + Striking looks +1.

21:31, Today: Evil Circus - The Bearded Woman rolled 2 successes using 3d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s ((10(+8),4,2)).

But the strange entity couldn't be subdued. For all of Shawn's efforts, simply convincing the woman to pay up would require more effort and more willpower.

"I hear what you're saying, but all people want from me is something...something SOMETHING! Do you know what it's like to constantly have people needing things from you? It follows me into my sleep. And I need my beauty sleep."

"To keep a body like this, I need that beauty sleep!" She wailed.

OOC: Shawn Rolls again

OOC: 21:59, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 4 successes using 8d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 9,4,5,10(+10,4),8,5,3,6. Manipulation + Socialize + Striking looks +1.

06:19, Today: Evil Circus - The Bearded Woman rolled 1 success using 3d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s ((3,10(+4),5)).

The pressing burden of her complaints was exhausting. She paced around the room, shawl dragging along the floor, bangles around her fat cankles jingling. But it became clear that the woman really just wanted someone to listen to all of these feelings and problems. Shawn dug deep, nodding at the appropriate times, and interjecting with tones of empathy and agreement. Short phrases really, to show that he both understood and empathizes. Whether he did or not was another question entirely.

Finally, Shawn managed to deflect the conversation away from her problems to something that interested the woman simply by nodding and agreeing. She began to talk about other things that interested her.

"Men's clothes are becoming kind of mod. They're becoming more colorful and more flamboyant, and the male peacock is beginning to show his true plumage."

"I like a flamboyant woman that's broken. I like a balls-to-the-wall woman, motherly but not, you know? I either love you or I don't even know you're on the planet. That's how I approach relationships." She explained as she waddled over to a bag and started rummaging through it.

Shawn nodded seriously, like he understood the implications of what she was talking about rather than just listening for key phrases and agreeing with them. "It's about excitement, right? Why pick boring clothes or people?"

"Exactly sweety. Why do that? Especially when you have both kinds of parts like me." She explained, without explaining further. Her tone was less urgent now, more subdued. Like she had gotten whatever was on her mind off of her considerably large chest.

"OK. What was it that you were talking about? Something you needed..." she said absently, still rummaging through the bag.

Shawn remained confused by the Bearded Woman's meaning, but from her tone it seemed like they'd reached some sort of resolution. "I think the Fortune Teller said you were supposed to get me soul rocks?"

"Right...Right." She said pulling out what looked like a small, hot-pot with a nozzle. She sauntered over to a nearby table, pushing the carpet over onto the floor to expose old, cherry-oak wood.

She took out a flint, holding it between two meaty fingers and striking it several times, the flame catching and going through the nozzle, coming out the top like some kind of Bunsen burner.

"This is the best way to do it." She explained to Shawn, without explaining anything.

Shawn looked blankly at the strange device, having no context with which to understand how to use it. "So, umm, how does it work, exactly? The Fortune Teller said I had to make a wish..."

"Oh sweety! Look at you! What are you, 10...11 years old? This is your first time with soul rock? Oh my gosh!" The Bearded Woman gushed, slapping Shawn's knee and inviting him to sit down. The whole gesture seemed overly feminine and flamboyant. It stood in stark contrast to the masculine beard she was sporting.

"I remember the first time I smoked this. You know what? You're lucky really. A lot of people like to fool you and say that you're not smart if you never went to college or school, but common sense rules over everything. That's what I learned from selling this stuff. Soul Rock. It's made souls. And the wishes you ask for speak the truth. I tell the truth. I'm probably the only one in this Circus that does. And I know what I'm talking about. That's why I'm a threat around here."

She leaned in.

"That's why you should feel good that I'm with you all the way, since this is your first time." She placed a heavy hand on Shawn's shoulder.

Shawn resisted the urge to lean away from the Bearded Woman or shake off her hand. "So...I smoke it?" This was starting to seem really dangerous to him - not that he could really back out now.

She pulled out a small, purple velvet pouch and set it on the table. The aperture to the bag opened, golden cords used to close it loosening. Irregular shaped rocks of brilliant purple--shiny bright and almost glowing--spilled out of the bag and onto the table.

She grabbed a single, shiny rock and held it close to the flame before pulling it away. Shawn could see a curl of smoke burn off of the edge of the rock, the sound of a chorus of whispers in the air talking over one another.

"You cook it first." She explained. With a meaty, thick hand, she placed a spoon in Shawn's hand. Placing the rock in the spoon, she then spoke in her own whisper.

"Go ahead, sweet. Cook it." She she said, the voice of the devil on Shawn's left shoulder, encouraging him to do something that was against things his mother and father had told him. Everyone knew that drugs were something you weren't supposed to do.

Shawn almost hesitated; he knew drugs weren't something he was supposed to take. But neither was murder, and he'd participated in those in the Circus. He had to accept that this was his life now. Face grim, he held the spoon over the flame...

Shawn held the spoon above the mid-high flame. Underneath the spoon, the flame made a blackened mark against the metal, like to preferred to set it on fire but couldn't. The purple rock began to melt into a yellowish liquid and floated on top like oil on water.

There were strange whispers all around that seemed to follow the trail of smoke. It smelled sweet, the air filled with a hungry intensity.

"OK, now pour the little yellow rocks into this pipe." The Bearded Woman said with some intensity, holding up a clear pipe.

Shawn steadied his hands against his knees, and carefully poured out the spoon. Things were getting weird, but as far as he could see, the only way out was through.

"Now. Just. Like. This." The woman said, holding the pipe up to her mouth and inhaling she held the smoke in. Her eyes rolled back into her head for a second, eyes fluttering.

She exhaled a smooth stream of purple smoke. And in the air, Shawn could see that the smoke looked like some kind of supernatural mist. A ghostly apparition with two eyes and a face--visible for just a second--it curled in the air, faintly whispering as it rose to the ceiling and dissipated.

"You make a wish as you breath out." The woman said in such a faint, lofty whisper Shawn could barely hear her.

She passed the pipe to Shawn

Shawn carefully took the pipe, but he paused for a moment before he put it to his mouth. "Can you wish for anything? Or wish for more than one thing?"

But the Bearded woman was already gone. Purple smoke twirling around her face, eyes rolled back into her head, the strangest ear-to-ear grin on her face. She was in another world. Or at least another state of mind.

It looked like that world was a happy place for her.

But there was also a sad, falseness to it all. Even though she was smiling. Her body was slumped. Fat rolls billowing out from under he shawl, a glean of dirty sweat on her forehead. The smile itself seemed more plastered on that genuine. Like someone came by and placed a smiley sticker on her face.

Whatever state of mind she was in, the silence spoke volumes: Shawn would be getting no more answers out of her right now.

Despite the woman being right here with him, Shawn felt like he was alone. He exhaled, finally able to drop the mask for a moment or two. He looked at the pipe with some trepidation as he tried to recall the Fortune Teller's exact instruction.

Then he brought the pipe to his lips and inhaled as deeply as he could. He held it for a moment, and then breathed out, thinking to himself as hard as he could I wish the Fortuneteller would reappear as a member of the Circus.

He breathed almost all the way out, leaving the tiniest puff of smoke in his lungs, and hesitated. Then he thought to himself and I also wish I didn't hurt so bad... and exhaled the rest of the way.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:06, Tue 18 Apr 2017.

OOC: Shawn Joins Thread

Shawn: Broken Base Crazies And Giggle Smoke-Soul Rock