Shawn stared at Mr. Clayton for a long while, as if he was waiting for him to say 'just joking!' in that reedy voice of his. After a minute or so, it became clear that the puppet was serious. Reluctantly, he went over to the end table set the needle up on it. He hovered his hand over it for a moment or two, hesitating. And then he closed his eyes.

He tried to visualize what he'd seen before of himself in the bedroom mirror. He'd been made of wood then. He didn't need to breathe. This was just one more part of that, right? It wouldn't hurt, because it wasn't like there were any actual nerves in his fingers. With his eyes closed, he pictured his finger as it had looked, made of wood. He tried to feel it, picturing what it would be like for his whole hand to be made of wood. He pictured it so hard it almost felt real, and before his concentration slipped, he brought down his finger on the needle as hard as he could.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Sat 06 June 2020.

OOC: Shawn Rolls Stamina + Resolve with the following results

0 Successes - Shawn opens his eyes and.....

1 Success - Shawn adds 1 dot in Occult permanently to his character sheet

2+ Successes - Shawn adds 2 dots in Occult permanently to his character sheet
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 22:58, Sat 06 June 2020.

OOC: 18:59, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 3 successes using 8d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 7,7,10(+5),1,10(+2),1,1,9.  Stamina + Resolve + WP.

There was a wet, sucking sound and the feeling of warmth spreading out from Shawn's finger down to his palm and then wrist.



"Would you look...at....that." Mr. Clayton said with wonder.

Shawn could see the needle sticking out of his finger. It was completely through. It was jammed from the tip of his index finger and was jutting out through the nail, a deep purple gash from where it penetrated, leaving savage red blood that ran down his arm and was pooling onto the table.

But it didn't hurt.

Not at all.

Shawn stared at the needle, and the blood for a long moment, waiting for a surge of pain that never actually came. "I think...I understand a little more." But eventually more practical considerations raised themselves. He looked around for some tissues to mop up the blood - deeper understanding or not, he didn't want to get in trouble for getting blood everywhere.

"It turns out you are a dummy!" Mr. Clayton rejoiced. "Ha! A real person would have felt pain at that, yucka-yucka." Mr. Clayton bent down in an awkward pose, wooden joints bending as he did so and put his hand into Shawn's laundry basket.

He pulled out a pair of used underwear--tighty-whities and handed it to Shawn.

Before Shawn could even think about grabbing it Mr. Clayton said

"See? Now don't get surprised if you feel pain later. It's part of the show. Understand?"

Shawn tried to carefully pull out the needle, glad it didn't hurt. But he gave Mr. Clayton on upset look. "Why later? Why would I feel it at all if you're right?" He grabbed the underwear and wrapped it around his finger.

"Ha-^HA!" Mr. Clayton laughed in a tone suggesting that Shawn was onto something. "If you feel something, its because you don't believe that you are a Dummy yet." Mr. Clayton concluded.

Shawn pulled the needle out, and a torrent of blood came out from the tip of his finger, splattering onto the end table with wet sound, and then dripping onto the floor.

Shawn wrapped the underwear around his bleeding finger tightly, concentrating on the fact that it was only wood so couldn’t possibly hurt. But he still didn’t want to make a mess, so he tried to wipe up as much blood as he could with his makeshift bandage - without taking it off his finger, of course.

"Look at that gushing finger! Yucka, Yucka!!!" Mr. Clayton said, pointing at Shawn finger covered in the rag. The blood on the end table was mostly clean, leaving Shawn with a finger that was wrapped, double wrapped with a white rag which was gradually turning a bright, blood-red.

"You're an idiot." Mr. Clayton remarked. "But that's OK. Because I'm an idiot too!" He shouted in a high-pitched, keening voice.

"Who would put a needle through their own finger!!!?" Mr. Clayton said. "You're so stupid! Stooooopid! Stoooooopid!" Mr. Clayton shouted. "Someone putting a needle through their own finger. That's the stupidest thing I've ever seen anyone do ever!" 

Shawn used his free hand to apply pressure to the rag, trying to staunch the blood flow. "Why's it stupid? If I'm a dummy, then it doesn't matter if I put a needle through it." He didn't like being insulted for following someone else's instructions.

"So right you are!!!" Mr. Clayton encouraged Shawn, shaking his own dummy head in disbelief. "Right you are!!! Yucka! Yucka!"

"But then again, why would you take anything I say seriously! I'm a dummy too!" Mr. Clayton rejoiced.

Then in a serious tone he said "No, seriously. You still don't fully believe your a Dummy. But maybe you do! Maybe you do. After all, your finger doesn't hurt right now."

"We'll have to go and see what this means tomorrow. You know? Check in on it. Check in on that finger!" He said, clapping his wooden dummy hands together. And the hands made a dull, 'thwapping' sound each time they came together, a mockery of a real person clapping.

'clouack!'

'clouack!'

'clouack!'

It was a dull and false sound. But it was quickly interrupted by something else that Mr. Clayton said "I can't wait to see how much you believe and how much you don't believe! Do you remember that pyramid? It was so colorful wasn't it? It's so important you know. To think about things and whats on top and what's on the bottom, don't you think?"

Shawn was relieved to hear that what he said was at least partly correct - he hoped he could muster enough belief that his finger still didn’t hurt tomorrow. But he was also glad for the change in subject. He was worried if he kept talking about his finger, it would wear off and start hurting. “I remember the pyramid. Didn’t Junior dream about it too?”

"Oh Yes. But Bradford was the biggest dreamer of them all." Mr. Clayton informed Shawn, tilting his head.

"What do you think of Junior? Mr. Clayton asked quizzically

Shawn considered the question. "Umm, I guess he's a good friend." He paused for a moment, then realized that he should probably add more than that. "He's kinda annoying sometimes, 'cause he always wants me to say I'm his best friend. But he's still nice." Shawn wasn't even sure if he had a best friend. Not since Bobby...

Mr. Clayton seemed interested in this last part. "Would you be best friends with him?" Mr. Clayton asked.

"Best of besty-best friends?" Mr. Clayton asked again, giving all the indication that he might be chiding Shawn.

"Would you be the very best of friends with Junior?" Mr. Clayton asked before Shawn could answer and then he said in a low voice

"Shawn and Junior sitt'in in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G..." He spelled the word 'kissing' out in a sing-song, rhyme kind of, way, the way Shawn might hear kids do at the playground that were younger.

"I don't wanna kiss Junior!" Shawn felt stung at Mr. Clayton's childish taunts - if he wanted to kiss anyone, it wouldn't be Junior! He didn't want to kiss much of anyone, it seemed to be the domain of older kids anyway. "I don't wanna make him hate me by saying he's not my best friend, but I don't think he's really my best friend. Bobby was my best friend, but..."

Shawn's shouts did nothing to stop the Puppet. "...first comes love, then comes marraige, then comes Shawn in the baby carriage!" Mr. Clayton sang, finishing the rhyme with malicious glee.

Shawn scowled at Mr. Clayton with his arms folded. "You know, I can't be kissing and in the baby carriage." Not that pointing out logical issues with a schoolyard taunt really worked. "Why do you care so much about Junior anyway? Is it 'cause he saw the show before?"

Mr. Clayton folded his own arms in an awkward clatter of wood-on-wood.  "I won't point out the fact that you are me and that I am you." Mr. Clayton pointed out, despite saying that he wasn't pointing it out.

"But that's right. Its Junior! Yucka! Yucka!" Mr. Clayton conceded. "He saw the Show. And more importantly, you saw that he saw the Show. And you and I both know that he's about as pliable as that lovable Green guy. You know, Gumbo?" 

"That means that since he really loves you, he probably won't be a taddle tail. That's a good thing." Mr. Clayton advised Shawn. "No one likes a taddle tail."

"So that means that we need to talk to Junior. We need to talk to him about you being a stupid Dummy. This way, I can show you the next step."

Shawn looked a little uncomfortable. “I need to tell him about all this...stuff?” He knew that this was all real, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t sound crazy to actually say. “Even if he believed me, what’s the next step?”

Mr. Clayton gave Shawn an incredulous look, fake eyebrows drawing inward  "No, no, no. Don't be silly. It's not about telling him anything. It's just about observing. Observing him. And Observing you. And then, observing yourself observing Junior." Mr. Clayton explained.

"All of this is about you. It's about showing you reality, so you won't be a slave anymore. So we can cut those strings that are holding you back from the truth. The truth being plain and simple: You are a dummy." 

"And in order to show you that, I need to show you Junior." Mr. Clayton explained.

Shawn very clearly remembered Mr. Clayton had mentioned talking to Junior, so he wasn't quite sure how he was being 'silly'. But he was getting to the point where he had to assume that even if he didn't understand something that Mr. Clayton said right now, eventually he'd get it. "Okay, so how should I do that? Should I go find him? Or is he gonna have another dream and come here?"

"Don't press it right now. But when would be the right time?" Mr. Clayton asked. He tilted his head and brought his hand up to his chin in a 'thinkers' pose. Then he shot up, wooden body stiffening and eyebrows waggling as if a light bulb had gone off in his hollow head, an idea of pure genius.

"Halloween is coming!" He announced.

Shawn thought carefully about what Mr. Clayton is saying. After a moment, though, he thinks he can follow the puppet's logic. "Are you saying I should dress up as a dummy?"