At first the darkness of the room must have deceived Shawn, or else his eyes were confused and dazzled by the glare of the yellow-red lamp in the corner of the room that was burning. For a minute or two he could make out nothing at all but dark lumps of furniture, the mass of the chest of drawers by the wall, and the white patches where the pillows were stacked along side the room. He was inside the Fortune Teller's Tent



"You've arrived." The Fortune Teller said. She was sitting behind a table with a plush, purple table cloth. The orb of her crystal ball glowing.

"Something must be wrong."

Shawn burst through the trap door, panting, but there was no time to catch his breath. He'd been thinking about what he'd been going to say since Mr. Cherrywinks had set this dangerous game. He wasn't silly enough to think Melinda would be moved by pleas for mercy or altruism, but it wasn't hard for him to think about a far more cynical pitch. He was getting better and better at it. "Mr. Cherrywinks trapped me and two kids I know in a competition to the death; he's going to take the losers' souls. If you can help us get free, it'll set him back in the Soul Race! Please, there's not much time left!"

The Fortune Teller sat there as the words burst out of Shawn's mouth and filled the silence of the room with a sense of urgency. She was still.

Except for that eye.

The Third Eye.

It moved about the room, like a spotlight taking things in. The crystal ball glowed as the eyeball receded, the white showing slowly, slowly until the pupil disappeared entirely.

Then the two eyes opened.

"Come." Melinda said, waving Shawn to sit at the table with her gnarled, bony fingers, long finger nails.

Shawn sat down at the table immediately, unsure of whether Melinda was helping him or not here. His stomach roiled with worry and uncertainty.

The dim light settled in on Shawn as Melinda began to mumble something indiscernible. She reached out her hand and uncurled her fingers. The Crystal ball was glowing fiercely now, bright colors of red, purple and yellow inside the cloudy interior of the orb. The seat was plush and soft against Shawn's body, and he could hear his own rapid breathing. Once her palm was opened it sat there in the middle of the table, waiting for Shawn to place his own hand on on top of it.

Shawn immediately put his hand in her's - helping or not, there was no time for hesitation, not anymore.

"Ah yes. My Crystal Ball is swirling with visions of your future young one. It appears that both your friends and your enemies are in danger and not just from Mr. Cherrywinks." Melinda offered.

Then a spasm broke out on the side of her face. Her third eye began to twitch, the eyelid fluttering. She gave a jolt, the chair screeching slightly.

She suddenly squeezed Shawn's hand tight. Far too tight for comfort. Her other hand came across to his forearm. The long, thick yellowed-finger nail of that hand dug into Shawn's arm, pressing into it.

It hurt. If she didn't stop soon, she was going to break the skin!

OOC: Shawn Chooses

1) Shawn resists - Shawn Rolls Strength + Dexterity vs. Melinda

2) Shawn does not resist - Shawn Rolls Composure vs. Melinda

Shawn tried to keep himself composed but couldn't!

OOC: 20:29, Today: Shawn Cramer failed (no successes) using 2d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 1,6. Composure .

20:31, Today: Evil Circus - Fortune Teller - Melinda rolled 2 successes using 5d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s ((8,6,4,1,8)).

Shawn wasn't cool or calm. How could he be? Ralph, Eric and himself were all about to die! And on top of it all, he felt a searing pain lance up his forearm as the Fortune Teller's nail dug into his skin, pressing downward, her other hand like a vice, locking his hand down.

"Magic comes with sacrifice." The Fortune Teller whispered.

OOC: Shawn Takes 2 lethal damage

Shawn Rolls 1d10 with the following results, lacking composure

1-3: Shawn gets up from his chair and forcibly tries to pull his arm away. The fingernail moves up the side of his forearm, slicing him deep (+2 lethal damage)

4-6: Shawn screams bloodly murder! A retching scream, expunging all of the physical pain that he feels.

7-9: Shawn is frozen with fear but hardly composed. He urinates all over his pants

10: Roll again.

OOC: 20:48, Today: Shawn Cramer failed (no successes) using 1d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s. Uncomposed.