"Banjo" Shawn heard himself say as he suddenly came into conciousness. He was sitting in his room, in front of the mirror that formed the outside of his closet. The stool was a short, wooden thing with a round seat and faded, chipped green paint. It felt harsh against Shawn's backside like he had been sitting in it for quite some time.

As Shawn stared at his haggard reflection in the mirror and that of Mr. Clayton on his lap, he knew that he didn't actually say Banjo or even the letter B. B is replaced with a "geh" sound at the back of the throat. That's what the cassette tapes said. So the word "banjo" would be "gehn-jo" in sound. But the audience wouldn't know that.

And just like they wouldn't know, Shawn didn't know how long he'd been practicing, what day it was, what year it was or even how long it had been since he had first put his hand up Mr. Clayton's back. First heard the 'Clink' sound of the Puppet grabbing a hold of his hand. Like the sound of hand cuffs closing on a prisoner, the iron gate of a cell door or the final banging of a judges gavel pronouncing a life sentence.

Shawn felt sore, and tried to stand up and pace around his room for a bit to loosen his legs and take some pressure off his backside. It reminded him of doing kitchen scenes for movies; usually he didn't have lines, it was just the leading actor and actress speaking to each other with him in the background, but he still had to sit there for hours on end without complaining. It was only when Shawn grabbed hold of Mr. Clayton with his free hand to make sure the didn't flip over as he stood that he realized he couldn't remember how he got here.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to remain as calm as he could. He'd known there might be side effects to this Ventriloquism thing, the important thing was not to panic. He walked over to his window and tried to get a sense of the time of day. "How'd I get home?" The question was addressed to the world at large, but he found himself looking toward Mr. Clayton for an answer. He tried to move the fingers he'd put up Mr. Clayton's back, to see if maybe that was necessary for an answer.

"I walked home a few months ago." The Puppets mouth moved and Shawns words came out of it, Shawns own mouth moving slightly too. Mr. Claytons dead eyes looked at him. The Puppet appeared lifeless, but somehow just working its mouth and practice the words, memories were slowly returning.

Slowly.

It was autumn. October? Shawn had been in school for about one month.And he was living with Dad.

Shawn tried to remember what he'd been doing for the past few months - what he'd done, but more importantly how he'd been acting. He hoped he hadn't been rude to his parents or friends. "Why can't I remember this?" He manipulated the puppet's mouth again to form an answer, a little more intentionally than last time.

When Shawn mouthed the words, the Puppet opened its own mouth and said "Oh, I don't know, probably because you've been so busy practicing. Oh, and working! Don't forget about that. Well, not working but School Work!"

But of course, it wasn't the Puppet actually speaking, it was Shawn speaking through the Puppet. Shawn knew this because he could feel his mouth move. And, he could see his own lips move slightly in the mirror. But just as he was thinking it, Shawn spoke again, manipulating Mr. Clayton's head and mouth:

"Everyday it's school, school, school. And then we get home and practice in front of the mirror until midnight. Then it's up again and school, school, school. I tell ya, life's a real slog! Yuckka, Yucka!"

Shawn wrinkled his brow as he tried to recall school, and practice, and what he'd been doing between them. "I feel like I've been asleep the whole time. Why couldn't I practice and stay awake?" It was an odd sensation - it was his words coming out of the puppet, his efforts making Mr. Clayton move. But somehow it was new information - or at least forgotten information. "Doesn't Dad have a problem with me just sitting in my room all day? Oh! And what about Eddy?" This time, rather than intentionally try to make Mr. Clayton answer, he tried to just relax and let it flow through him instead. Maybe that would help him remember better.

Shawn relaxed and instead of the Puppet saying anything, the head lolled to one side. It took Shawn a few seconds to see that Mr. Clayton’s eyes were staring at a newspaper that was on the dresser. Half of the paper was covered with a smattering of GI Joe toys but the part that could be read in large, headline letters was

Santa Monica Boy Wakes Up After Extended Co....

Despite his exhaustion, Shawn couldn't help but smile as he walked over to his dresser to pick up the newspaper and verify that it was in fact Eddy that the paper was talking about. Though as he shuffled aside the toys, a thought occurred to him. "The toys are on top of the paper...if I'm so busy, who's playing with them?" Shawn tried to suppress the little trickle of hope inside of him, tried not to get his expectations up as he tried to make the puppet talk again. When Bobby lived here, he loved played with GI Joes...
This message was last edited by the player at 22:06, Tue 20 Aug 2019.

“You’ve been a busy boy Shawn.” Shawn heard himself say, as he moved the Puppets mouth. It opened and closed with a slight snapping sound before sounding the words in rhythm to What Shawn was speaking through it.

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Yucka Yucka!! I’m the Dummy. But maybe you playing with the toys is the last bit of Dummy getting out of you. You know what they say, a Dummy is only as dumb as his Ventriloquist!”

Shawn has heard that line about Jack being a dull boy before from Mr. Bronstein commenting once about a famous movie called The Shining.

Shawn felt a little sense of disappointment, but he'd tried not to get his hopes up so it didn't sting too much. "So, are we done with the stuff I'm-err, the stuff that's too boring to remember?" Shawn was worried about this whole 'missing time' thing, and was hoping he could convince Mr. Clayton of that too.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:57, Wed 21 Aug 2019.

Shawn made Mr. Clayton’s mouth moved as The a Puppet spoke. Shawn’s own hand and forearm wiggled and The Puppet gave a jaunty little dance

“Forget!? Remember!? That’s a good idea. Two sides of the same coin! Yucka, Yucka!! Let’s start with the newspaper like you said. You know what they say, one step at a time and I’m sure we’ll remember everything.”

Shawn’s eyes looked down at the first paragraph of the newspaper:

A local Santa Monica boy, Eddie Hughes, woke from a coma yesterday in what doctors are calling an unlikely event. “We’re just happy for Eddie and his family because after a few months, a recovery like this is usually impossible” Dr. Calvin Rogers, who oversaw Eddie’s stay Santa Monica’s Intensive Care Unit commented.

Shawn took a deep breath and concentrated on the paper. If Eddy had indeed been fixed, he and Mr. Clayton must've done something. He continued reading and tried to see if any of it rang a bell.

Shawn kept reading all the while turning Mr. Clayton’s head so the Puppet all the while appeared to be following the lines on the page. That was something that Shawn had also been practicing: the subtle movements of the head and eyes of the Puppet.

“...doctors had originally believed that Eddie had suffered a rare brain aneurysm. However, after several tests, doctors were unable to conclusively determine the cause of the coma. Eddie awoke after nearly four months in the hospital without moving or speaking a word. “We’re so relieved. We thought that our son was lost. We’re so relieved.” Edith Hughes said when reached for comment.

“I remember now! You asked me to do that!” Shawn made the Puppet’s mouth move, the sound coming out natural and fluid, the words and substitutions for different sounds felt more comfortable than before.

“Hey, you’re getting better at this Ventriloquist gig. You know what they say, the Dummy is a trifle.” Mr. Clayton turned his head towards the mirror again, Shawn making the head move.

“Look at your body—
A painted puppet, a poor toy
Of jointed parts ready to collapse,
A diseased and suffering thing
With a head full of false imaginings.” He said in a dour, sing-song way, head moving side to side. “Is it your body that is the problem, or your head Shawn?”

"I know I asked you to do it, I was hoping I could remember how we did it. Even under the bizarre circumstances, Shawn couldn't help but feel a little happy glow when the puppet complimented his Ventriloquism, even if it soured a bit with Mr. Clayton's weird singsong verse. "I don't think either of them are a problem. We're supposed to be a team, aren't we?"

He looked down at the puppet's head as he spoke, like he was having an actual conversation and not providing both sides of it himself. A side glance at the mirror showed him posed properly to convey a conversation to an unseen audience. That was one thing at least he already knew how to do from acting.

“How We did it. Now I get it.” Mr. Clayton moved his head, nodding the way Shawn was making him nod and facing the mirror as if it was the audience.

“I know, maybe if we played a word game! You pick a word and I’ll say something in response to it. Yucka, Yucka!”

Shawn got himself into his performance mode, treating the mirror as an audience. He didn’t exactly feel better, but he looked a little more in control at least. “Sure, Mr. Clayton, that sounds like fun.” He faked cheeriness, projecting his voice a little; theatre acting rather than movie acting. “Why don’t we start with...’wish’.”

The Puppet moved its head from side to side as Shawn moved it.

Then it opened its mouth and said “Triangle-Pyramid!”

Mr. Clayton nodded his head emphatically, as if the game was working.

“A Triangle-Pyramid that is 3-D! It’s not really a Pyramid, but a hierarchy! That’s a complicated word ‘hierarchy.’It means that you are putting one thing as more important than the other. And the most important thing is at the top!


What’s the next word?”

Shawn remembered the pyramid from the time he’d made his wish. He wasn’t entirely sure what Mr. Clayton meant by it not really being a pyramid, but it sounded complicated enough that it was probably important. He considered his next word. “Umm...’top’!”

“Top! The thing that is most importantly important!......Nothing! Or rather....Top! The thing that is most importantly important!: Burning the whole pyramid including the top so that everything goes up in flames!! Yucka Yucka!

Shawn thought that sounded ominous...but at the same time, it wasn’t like the way things were had done him much good. He decided to change tacks a bit. “Rufus.” He didn’t know if Mr. Clayton had met ‘Rufus’ like he had. But he was also the one putting words in Mr. Clayton’s mouth, so maybe he already knew?

Mr. Clayton moved his head from one side to the other and Shawn brought the Puppet’s small hand up to its chin to give it a thoughtful gesture. “Woof! Woof!” Mr. Clayton barked and Shawn felt the raspy sting of the barking sound in his own throat. It sounded like something a Looney Tuned dog named Spike would make, not at all the desperate cries that Eddie had made in Little Stones cage.

Shawn might’ve been upset at the seeming mockery, but Eddy was apparently awake and all right now, so it didn’t seem as bad. He decided to hazard a potentially more dangerous word this time. “Strings.”

“Strings! ......”

“Ummm! I know..... Puppet Strings! Like my strings.”

“We can follow the puppet strings into the unseen realm to discover who or what is requiring our worship.  The “how” string is revealed when we discover what spirit is providing the input for our life, telling us how to play out our part on the stage of life.”

Shawn picked up on an odd word choice from Mr. Clayton and wanted to press further. “Worship?”

“Worship....” The Puppet repeated. Shawn made its mouth move:

“Silly.” Mr. Clayton countered with his own word, continuing to play the game

Shawn wondered if he'd picked a dead end...or if he'd found something important that Mr. Clayton was trying to evade. He decided to press on ahead into a little more dangerous areas. "Cords." Like Mr. Clayton and Bradford had mentioned, the kind that had made him so angry. He wanted to avoid becoming another Bradford.

Mr. Clayton said nothing.

"Why I ought-ahh!" Mr. Clayton said at the word, giving his best old-time Abbot and Costello bit. "Hmmm...that's a tough one Shawn. A real tough-y."

"If you want to follow the Puppet strings, you have to master Steps 1 -7 from the cassettes.  You have to talk without moving your lips. Only then will you be ready to begin the real work: getting to know your dummy."

"But I suppose you can start by closing your eyes..."

Shawn thought he was actually pretty good at talking without moving his lips, but it seemed he'd managed to dig up something important picking at random words. He took a deep breath to centre himself, and then closed his eyes as instructed.

"Wonderful." Shawn heard Mr. Clayton say. And suddenly, with his eyes closed, Shawn was able to hear the silentness of the room. He could feel the sensation of his own body. He could hear his own rhythmic breathing.

And with all of those simple things, there was a growing sense that Mr. Clayton was no longer something that Bradford had owned. But rather, something that was now wholly something that belonged to Shawn.

"Now open your eyes." Mr. Clayton said.

Shawn felt a little reassured by the sense that Bradford didn’t have a hold on Mr. Clayton anymore. He opened his eyes...

As Shawn opened his eyes, he saw his reflection in the mirror and could also see that something about Mr. Clayton had changed. The Puppet still sat on his lap and still had the same expression. It’s hair was still parted in the same spot, face still smiling in all the same places.

Except it’s eyes. Mr. Clayton’s eyes had that vacant look that skulls have. And suddenly the room felt just a bit colder as Shawn could feel Mr. Clayton’s cold, wooden interior.



“You’ve got to practice Shawn. You’ve got to practice every day. Do you think you can do that? To be a practiced Ventriloquist?”

Shawn’s breath caught in his throat, but outwardly he remained calm. He felt like he was caught in the gaze of a dangerous predator, one that was too strong to fight and too fast to flee; the only safe path was to push back a little, to not show weakness. “I can practice every day - I did rehearsals every day before I even heard of you. But it’s like scene partners, we’ve gotta work together or the show won’t work. So you have to tell me what’s going on with the cords.”

Mr. Clayton’s cold, wooden interior seemed to grip Shawn's hand. The hand felt foreign and suddenly unfamiliar to Shawn. It was all sweaty and clammy.



“The Dummy is a trifle Shawn. Of course we'll work together. But you've got to practice Shawn. You’ve said that you'll practice every day. And that's a very good start. But to move into those areas that are beyond the steps of simple Ventriloquism, to move into those areas and follow those cords....will you practice every night? ”

Shawn tried to move the hand within Mr. Clayton of his own will - it suddenly felt like it was attached to someone else. "I'll practice whenever we need to, whether it's day or night." He stopped trying to make his hand move and relaxed back into the answering position he was in before. He was choosing his words and outward attitude carefully, even if he wasn't entirely sure if Mr. Clayton could pick up on how vulnerable he felt directly through their connection. "But you can't just treat me like a kid, okay? What will following those cords do? What's past simple Ventriloquism?"

“Day and Night! Day and Night! And then, you've got to schedule a show Shawn! A A show where we'll be working together. All the kids will be able to see us perform. That way, you can get to know your Dummy. Even though the Dummy is a trifle. Yucka Yucka! ”

"Only when you know your Dummy can you follow those cords. What's that? You want to learn more? Well, after our first performance, you can decide if you want to move onto step 10 and follow Greater Ventriloquism. that's what comes after Simple Ventriloquism!"

"A show? Do we have a script?" Shawn had done improv exercises in acting classes a few times, but he always felt more comfortable with the clear expectations of a script. And it'd tell him what to expect, at least. And then he noticed something about Mr. Clayton's phrasing. "What happens if I don't want to move onto step 10 after the show?"

"Oh, I've got a script." Mr. Clayton promised ominously. "Let's see...step 10.."

The Puppet's head moved mechanically as Mr. Clayton's mouth just dropped open. Then, the warm sound of a jovial audio voice began to play from that open mouth, like it was a speaker:

"If your aim is simply to become a proficient showman, skilled enough to achieve some modicum of success through performing at children’s birthday parties, local variety shows, and community theatre acts, do not read any further. Study and apply STEPS 1-9 but do not read on. Your tutelage is complete, and with enough practice you very well may become a competent, even an excellent show business ventriloquist.

However, if STEPS 1-9 do not satisfy you; if manipulating your dummy seems limited and frustrating and even simplistic; if you have an overwhelming desire — a hunger — to know what Greater Ventriloquism is and what it can do for you and your life, read on. Again: you must continue reading only if you really want to know what the secret of Greater Ventriloquism has to offer....."

The tape stopped. Mr. Clayton's mouth still hung open, his eyes staring vacantly, dark and hollow.

Shawn glanced back and forth between the mirror and Mr. Clayton, not sure who was providing the sounds. He could tell the puppet wasn't going to be much more forthcoming about the script, but perhaps it would reveal itself with practice. "All right, but there's one more thing we haven't talked about. You still owe me for breaking your word. Before we do anything else, you have to make it up to me."

"....you have to make it up to me!" Mr. Clayton mimicked back using Shawn's voice. Of course, it was Shawn's voice. Because Shawn was working the Puppet and the voice of the Puppet just slipped that's all. Just slipped into Shawn's actual voice. The effect though, was somehow a demonstration of Mr. Clayton making fun of Shawn's proposal.

"All right Shawny-boy, whattta-ya want?"

Shawn met Mr. Clayton's mockery with relative calmness - he wasn't sure if being mocked in his own voice made it easier or harder. "You said you wouldn't interfere between Bradford and me, but you did. I remember it, even though it was that other Shawn."

"I want you to bring Bobby back." There it was, all laid out in the open in its simple impossibility. Shawn was fairly certain Mr. Clayton wouldn't agree, but he couldn't not ask. And the more cynical part of him knew that asking something big up front made it easier to compromise to something better. "Because he wouldn't have died if you hadn't interfered."

"....bring Bobby back!...bring Bobby back! WwwwwaaahhhhhH!" Mr. Clayton mocked, head moving side-to-side in a pantomime of a baby's tantrum.

"It's all up to you Shawn. It's all up to how much you're willing to put in. You know what they say 'practice makes perfect'. I think with the right amount of elbow grease, we can bring it all back. Bobby and everything. It just depends on how far you're willing to go towards Greater Ventriloquism! Yucka! Yucka! "

Shawn felt disappointment, but he channelled it into his performance. "You can't? You know, with Bradford, you defeated a dragon, you sent people to the Krinner, you made Bobby and Ralph part of a completely different family. And you can't do anything like that for me? Anything at all?" He sounded disappointed, but exaggeratedly so; it was like the wife on a sitcom, or the straight man in a comedy. Enough feeling to read to an audience correctly, but broad and a little zany too. He was complaining to Mr. Clayton, but also demonstrating why he was a better ventriloquist than Bradford.

"Now Shawn..." Mr. Clayton said, adopting the voice of an adult talking to a child that wasn't getting their way

"You know I didn't do that. It wasn't me that sent those people to the Krinner. It wasn't even me who sent Bobby or Ralph to that reality or family."

"That was Bradford."

"Bradford sacrificed more and more to his anger and his rage. And that was the fuel that made all of those things possible Shawn. But he wasn't capable, talented or focused enough to make that leap to Greater Ventriloquism."

"Now that we are together, I think that together we can achieve great things! It will be a new day! A fun day!"

Shawn noticed that Mr. Clayton was admitting a limitation; that might be good or bad, but it was definitely something to remember in the future. Either that or it was all a lie. "Can you at least bring Ralph back? Or show me how to do it if its gotta be me? You have to admit I'm really good at making the sounds with my mouth now."

"You're very good!" Mr. Clayton complimented. Then he paused, head turning so that he was looking straight into the mirror at Shawn, instead of speaking to Shawn and facing him. It was a long pause. Mr. Clayton's mouth dropped open before slowly closing shut. Then Shawn made him speak.

"You know, when Bradford buried Tiffany's body in the forest, her body didn't just appear in the hole.  And the hole didn't just appear in the forest. Bradford had to dig many, many holes in the forest to practice first. He didn't even have a shovel. He had to spend nights sneaking outside. Actually!..." Mr. Clayton gave a chuckle at this point, full of mirth. "First he had to learn how to sneak outside of his own house without anyone seeing!"

"He didn't know who might have a shovel. So first, he searched all of the neighbor's yards. One night I remember we almost got caught by Penelope's Dad. Can you imagine? Caught by a neighbor's Dad in the middle of the night? Being found in someone's shed at that hour, trying to steal a shovel!?? Yucka! Yucka!"

"Bradford finally stole a shovel from Michael's shed. Then each night he would try to dig a hole in the forest floor. The first night he started to cry because it was really hard work. The second night he actually fell asleep! In the dirty forest of all places!! Yucka! Yucka!!"

"But after a while, digging a hole wasn't so hard for Bradford anymore. Even in the middle of the night. But you know what? It really wasn't the digging that helped him succeed...."

"It was the idea." Mr. Clayton said, eye's suddenly opening wide as he emphasized the word 'idea' with his high-pitched, sing-song voice.

"Do you know how he came to that idea? He came to it day-by-day. He came to it by doing the little things Shawn....by practicing."

"Practice...practice...practice."

"Practicing Ventriloquism Shawn. Trying each day to give his whole self over to the idea. It's actually just like that hole in the forest where Tiffany is buried. It came about one scoop of dirt at a time."

 
OOC: Ego Boost Merit - The result of Mr. Clayton's compliment. Shawn receives a one-time +1 modifier on his next roll if he uses Expression skill during this same scene.

Shawn felt like a pit in his stomach open up again as Mr. Clayton detailed what had happened to Tiffany in such a cavalier tone - it made it feel real somehow, that Tiffany was dead and Bradford had to deal with her body. But he pushed it down deep inside, not wanting to show even a hint of vulnerability to Mr. Clayton. "All right, what should I do next to practice. Can you tell me the script for the show?"

"Sure can!!!" Mr. Clayton said, Shawn's own voice saying it the whole time.

"But, first, it's just like you said — practice. Let's start......"

"Instead of saying “F”, make it come out “eth” if it comes in the middle or end of a word. If it comes at the beginning of a word, just say “th”. Let's try saying this:"

“Without any effort, I frankly feel like a trifle.”

Now say “Without any ethort, I thrankly theel like a trithle.”

This is where the real challenge of ventriloquism begins Shawn, as you practice over and over — many thousands of times — in front of a mirror."

Obligingly, Shawn took a seat in front of the mirror once more, and settled Mr. Clayton into his lap. “Without any effort, I frankly feel like a trifle.” That part was easy enough, though he settled into his performer's elocution so the tone and words would be understandable from a distance. "Without any ethort, I thrankly theel like a trithle.”

OOC: Shawn Rolls Stamina + Resolve with the following results

0 Successes: Shawn is unable to do what Mr. Clayton wants - Practice. Unable to Practice for more than six hours into the night, Shawn falls asleep: Mr. Clayton is disappointed, proceed to next thread.

1 Success: Shawn is able to practice six hours into the night, a fact that Mr. Clayton is pleased about, and that Shawn will repeat regularly. Shawn will at least gain Fatigued: -1 to all rolls. Mr. Clayton demands even more practice: Shawn rolls Stamina + Resolve again.

OOC: 22:14, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 2 successes using 5d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 9,7,6,6,9.  Stamina + Resolve.

22:15, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 2 successes using 5d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 1,3,8,1,8.  Stamina + Resolve.

Shawn continued to practice and practice. Sitting in front of the mirror, after a few hours, he became vaguely aware that the sun was setting. Yet still, he continued. And he knew intrinsically that this was what Mr. Clayton wanted. But more than that, there was a growing understanding that only through this level of sacrifice, could things be make 'possible.'

If he had asked Mr. Clayton what 'making things possible' meant, the Puppet probably would have said that it meant achieving all of Shawn's goals including through supernatural means.

But even as this through crossed Shawn's mind, he knew that it didn't fully capture or encapsulate the events occurring or the meaning behind the Puppet's explanations.

Shawn kept practicing deep into the night:

OOC: Shawn Rolled more than 0 successes on his second roll of Stamina + Resolve. Therefore Shawn is able to stay up late into the night and practice. Shawn chooses one of the following conditions: (Shawn currently has condition 'Fatigue', -1 die to all rolls)

- Stays Up All Night: -2 to all Dice Rolls: This condition will replace 'Fatigue'. As a matter of routine, Shawn stays up every night practicing Ventriloquism with Mr. Clayton. EVERY NIGHT.

OR

- Sleep Deprived: Shawn keeps the condition 'Fatigue' and adds the condition 'Sleep Deprived. Throughout the day, Shawn experiences minor hallucinations that might occur
(figures seen in peripheral vision, or phantom voices). As a matter of routine, Shawn stays up every night practicing Ventriloquism with Mr. Clayton. EVERY NIGHT.

Shawn is incredibly tired, but he pushes on through, sacrificing of himself to make things 'possible', whatever was meant by that.

OOC: I'll take 'Sleep Deprived'.

OOC: Conditions Added

Shawn Joins Thread:

Shawn: Dreaming to Know Your Dummy