Shawn knew that he was dreaming.  He had been asking himself whether or not he was dreaming, and was supposed to be performing an action that would help him find out. But Shawn couldn't seem to remember what that action was.  Specifically, he was supposed to go somewhere. Mr. Clayton had told him about it and now he couldn't remember.

The wind pushed through Shawn's hair and there was a terrible feeling of being up very, very high. Shawn gripped the large pole that he had carefully clutched in his hands.

He looked down. It was a long drop if he fell.



This message was last updated by the GM at 13:17, Tue 25 Aug 2020.

Shawn knew he was dreaming, because if he hadn't been dreaming, he'd be panicking at this height. And since he wasn't panicking, he had to be dreaming. It felt logical enough, though maybe that was part of the dream.

He felt like he had to be somewhere, though he wasn't sure where that might be. Still, the only way that wasn't straight down was across. Gripping the pole tightly, he started to step across the tightrope.

In the distance, at the end of the long rope, a black hole came into focus. It was coming closer and closer, giving Shawn the sensation that he was quickly approaching a train tunnel even though he wasn't moving. Then, it became clear that it wasn't black hole.

It was Mr. Clayton. His giant mouth was opening in a garish maw. It was an enormous caricature of an old time puppet. Shawn was walking at on the tight rope without falling. And he was headed towards that great big mouth at the end of the rope.

Shawn wasn't quite sure if he could stop without losing his balance. He wasn't even sure if falling would be a good or bad thing - this was a dream, after all. But he could see Mr. Clayton, and he vaguely remembered that he'd told Shawn to do something. He tried to yell across the distance to Mr. Clayton. "What am I supposed tobe doing here!?"

As Mr. Clayton's smiley maw communicated silently to Shawn, it was as if the dream had adjusted the colors of the world in the night, like it was as easy as twisting one of those old plastic dials on a TV set. Everything was brighter than it should have been; the trees lining the old bridge were not just green but radiant iridescent hues that burned themselves in Shawn's eyes. The rope, which was as grey as if it had been painted by moonlight now stood vibrant in the golden rays that fell unfettered though the clear sky. The bridge that was grey was a sleek river of black with perfect paint lines and the street-lamps were blue. But they had never been blue, not ever. Everything was so right it was wrong - really wrong.

Mr. Clayton's mouth opened wider, and wider still, the wooden sides of at the end of the mouth-tunnel began to split. Shards and splinters flew out off into the nether, spiraling down into the rushing stream of water hundreds of yards below Shawn.

Mr. Clayton didn't say anything. But he communicated to Shawn what his intention was:
Mr. Clayton wanted Shawn to willing allow the Puppet to consume him. Mr. Clayton wanted to swallow all of Shawn:

His body.

His mind.

His identity.

Shawn looked at the dream world around him, the wrongness of his surroundings lending him clarity of sorts. If he was really standing on a tiny rope stretched across a massive height with a giant dummy wanting to consume him, he'd have been terrified beyond all belief. But this was a dream, and he could think about what he should do like he was decided what to order at McDonalds.

He remembered what he'd learned earlier, and how he needed to trust in the lessons of Greater Ventriloquism to fix all the things that Bradford had done. And keeping that in mind, he started walking towards Mr. Clayton. Mr. Clayton wanted to consume him, but he was being very silly - if Shawn was just a dummy, there wasn't anything to consume.

Shawn slowly entered Mr. Clayton's mouth, coming to the end of the rope. He looked down and saw that he was no longer carrying the long stick. Dismounting from the rope, he stared down the long, cavernous mouth. Just a second a ago, it had been a round circle. But now, it looked like a deep triangular cave. The walls seemed to move like Shawn was inside an electronic, arcade game. Like Tron.



It was clear that Mr. Clayton's throat was leading to one, singular triangle.

Shawn had no idea if he'd done the right thing or not, but this still reminded him a lot of the stuff Mr. Clayton had told him. He started to move deeper into the cave, trying to focus on the idea of being at the top of the triangle. It was like a pyramid, right?
This message was last edited by the player at 13:00, Mon 03 Aug 2020.

Shawn kept moving into Mr. Clayton's mouth. But it felt less and less like a dark cavern and more and more bright. Neon colors framed the exterior of the bridge leading Shawn to a deeper understanding of Mr. Clayton's teachings.



No the tunnel Shawn was in was leading upwards. Up towards the highest part of the triangle. And in it, Shawn understood that something was to be discovered.

Shawn kept marching forward. It certainly didn't feel like the inside of a giant ventriloquist dummy in here, but the lessons seemed pretty clear. He continued to make his way upward, towards whatever discovery awaited at the top of the pyramid.

Shawn approached the pinnacle of the Pyramid. He had ascended and even though everything was dark, there was a knowing sense that he could see more from this vantage point. This of course, made complete sense in the all encompassing dreamworld.

When Shawn go to the top, the tip of the Pyramid began to open. Strands of white slipped out. They were thrashing about. And then Shawn saw what they were:

Worms

The worms were gross, but in his dream logic Shawn was trying to think of what lesson they could be, like the other strange things he'd seen. Maybe they were things that might distract him from his ventriloquism journey, like school or hobbies? He tried to avoid them as he continued to make his way towards the tip. Surely it would all make sense then.

As Shawn drifted upward in hopes of their being something higher at the tip of the pyramid, his thoughts became clearer.

The worms were parasites. They weren't on the way to the highest point of the pyramid.

They were at the highest point. And they began to envelop him. Each worm had barbed teeth coming out of its mouth and head. And each head began to attach itself to Shawn's body. His arms. His legs. One even attached itself to the left cheek of his face.

Shawn felt clarity come to him as the worms attacked. He flinched away, but it wasn't enough to stop them from attaching themselves to him. The teeth were barbed, so he didn't even dare pull them away - instead, he continued to struggle towards the top, in hopes that whatever clarity he got there would include a way to protect himself.

OOC: Shawn Joins Thread

Shawn: Mr. Clayton's Nighttime Activities