Shawn lugged the suitcase into the guest room. Or his room. Or just the room on the right. When he opened the door he was greeted by large, spacious room. It was clean and smelled of freshly washed bed linens, not unlike the kind that he may have found in a new hotel room when on the road auditioning, although admittedly that seemed like a long time ago. Many things had happened since Shawn had last gone out on auditions on the road.

Next to the bed their was a small night stand next to a dresser with a Micky Mouse clock on top of it. In the corner of the room there as a closed armoire and next to that a desk and chair with what looked like picture frame. Chris and what looked like his parents were in the frame. Shawn could tell that the picture was taken a few years ago in what looked like Disney land.

Shawn let Mr. Clayton's suitcase rest on the floor next to the desk. It had been quite a long day.

Shawn passed through the threshold, and after taking a few moments to look around the room and get his bearings, he sagged a little as he stopped performing, even just for a little. The day had gone on forever, and he still had so much to think about, so much to worry about...

He sat down on the bed, and spent five minutes just staring off into space, not letting himself think about anything, not worrying about what his expression was doing or what he needed to appear to be doing. The moment couldn't last forever, though. He needed to make plans, and prepare for whatever came next. The neighborhood was in danger, and he was one of the few people who knew why. He glanced at the clock, and then at the suitcase. He sighed. He'd had his break, but he had to keep going.

The absence of any noise in the room made it easier to feel all of the nuances of Shawn's own body. Sitting on the bed, he could hear his own inhalation and exhalation, his own breath coming out in a sigh.

The bed had a soft but springy feel to it, the blankets neatly folded and inviting. Looking down, Shawn's eyes were drawn Mr. Clayton's suitcase. There was a jittery, metallic sound. Then another. The suitcase hopped once. Then twice. Then it fell over, one latch undoing itself as if Mr. Clayton wanted out.

Shawn stood up and made sure the door was closed before returning to the suitcase. He was still in his Halloween costume, so it didn't take much for him to get back into the ventriloquism 'zone' as he opened up the suitcase.

One puppet hand, grasped the outside of the suitcase as Mr. Clayton pulled himself up, his body flopping onto the floor in a mangle of limp arms and legs.

"I'm....so...tired." Mr. Clayton said to Shawn.

Shawn gently scooped up Mr. Clayton and settled him into the crook of his arm as always. He yawned as he walked over to the bed and set himself down on the edge. "Me too...but we can both sleep once we figure out this stuff Edith told us."

Mr. Clayton's head nodded forward, the Puppet catching it before it fell limp. He raised his head to look at Shawn, his plastic eyes catching the glimmer of the bedroom lights.

"I'm....going to fall asleep....a long sleep...I won't be around for a while...you...have to do it yourself...yuc....yucka.....yucka...." Mr. Clayton said to Shawn, though the 'yuckas' came out without the Puppet's characteristic joy.

"C'mon Mr. Clayton, I can't do this by myself. I don't know how to stop evil dreams..." Shawn had been warned about Mr. Clayton going away repeatedly, but there was a big difference between that being a future possibility and it happening right now. He found himself immediately switching to bargaining. "You've gotta give me something to help. Some, I dunno, some power or secret or something. I did everything you asked, that's gotta be worth something."

"I'll give you a secret...a secret...that...you never...expected...about...about...your father...and your family. " Mr. Clayton said weakly, head nodding forward.

Shawn wasn’t sure what sort of secret it could possibly be, but Mr. Clayton seemed to think it was important. He leaned in closely to hear. “What is it?”

"He knows about....me." Mr. Clayton said, voice frail and dropping to a whisper.


"Because....."Mr. Clayton said.

"...of when he was a kid...like you." Then Mr. Clayton slumped over, tottering to one side and fell.

Shawn tried to catch Mr. Clayton, and sit him back up so he could keep talking. "How? What did he do with you as a kid?" His mind was racing, trying to figure out what this meant!

One of the slatted lids on Mr. Clayton's eye shut itself, leaving only one eye open.

"He knows about....me." Mr. Clayton said, voice frail and dropping to a whisper.


"Because....."Mr. Clayton said, repeating the words that he had just said, even weaker this time.

"Wait. I already said that." Then Mr. Clayton's puppet head shook, trembling. "Put me in the case, would you?" Mr. Clayton said. "I'm so tired. We won't be seeing each other for a while." Mr. Clayton advised.

"You need to burn down that house." Mr. Clayton said. "Burn down Ralph's house." His other eye closed, and now the Puppet was speaking to Shawn, with eyes closed like he was talking in his sleep.

"Burning down the house is the only way that Mr. Cherrywinks will go away."

"It's the only way to seal up the place. To stop what the Proprietor is doing in the basement."

"It's kind of like what I told your Grandfather to do when he was a kid. It's not his fault."

Shawn was already reeling at the revelation about his father; his grandfather being involved and being urged to burn down the house just made him more conflicted. “I, but, we…we’ve gotta get Ralph out first. You’ll help me with that, right? Then we can stop him…” He was desperately searching for a way out, one that let him keep the people he cared about safe.

Now Mr. Clayton's mouth stopped moving, his head slumped forward. He gestured with one floppy arm towards the suit case, as if he wanted Shawn to put him in.

A stillness had come over the room. As if Mr. Clayton was some kind of electronic device, a source of static, white noise that had turned off. The Puppet's dead expression, vacant stare and more than anything, total silence allowed for other sounds to be heard.

A rustling of leaves outside. The passing of a car and the sound of the tires fading into the distance. Shawn even thought he heard the distant sound of 'trick or treat' from outside, kids that were clearly out too late.

Shawn stared at the immobile puppet for a long time, hanging on every errant twitch or shift of his own body as a sign that Mr. Clayton was coming back to life. When it didn't happen, he visibly deflated, and then slowly trudged back over to the case and gently set him down.

Shawn set Mr. Clayton down in the case. The Puppet looked like any other ventriloquist dummy but older. The stillness in the room seemed to encompass him. He was no longer an animate, jovial or mischievous puppet. Folded up in the old case, it was a wonder that Mr. Clayton had ever appeared that way to anyone.

Shawn stared at the dummy for a moment or two, and then slowly closed the suitcase. He felt more alone than he had in a long time. Mr. Clayton had been mean and crude and downright cruel most of the time, but he'd been the only being in the world that Shawn had actually been totally honest with.

He returned to the bed and sat down heavily. He'd need to figure out what to do, figure out something by himself.

OOC: Shawn Rolls Wits + Composure with the following results

0 Successes - Shawn sits on the bed, reflecting and then...

1+ Successes - Shawn sits on the bed, thinking about what happens next, when all of the sudden he realizes...

OOC: 07:53, Today: Shawn rolled 2 successes using 4d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 4,9,9,2.  Wits + Composure.

Shawn sat on the bed, thinking about what might happen next. He was staring at Mr. Clayton, folded up lifeless in the suitcase. All of the sudden. he noticed the old flap on the interior portion of the suitcase was partially open. It's old leather straps were rusted at the buckle and the folds of the fabric were weighed down by something inside. A single, yellow piece of aged paper was sticking out a few inches above Mr. Clayton's lifeless head.

Shawn stared at the paper - it looked really old, which was enough to pique his curiosity. He levered himself to his feet, and then went over to pick it up. It must have come from the suitcase...

Shawn picked up the letter which was yellow and written in a cursive barely legible and long forgotten. Shawn's hand moved over the smooth, worn leather of the suitcase's interior. The flap fell down and a cascade of letters and other papers poured out on top of Mr. Clayton. The Puppet didn't spring to life, but rather lay buried under a pile of envelopes, black and white photographs and papers stacked and tied together with yellowed string.

Shawn wasn't sure why there'd be so many letters and photos in this old suitcase, but it did seem kind of important. He gathered up all the papers and letters; he wanted to at least look at what they were about, starting with whatever caught his eye.

Shawn picked up one of the old yellow letters, seeing that it appeared to be a clipping of an old news article or Playbill:

It's hard to believe that a boy born in Wisconsin who grew up on a dairy farm would, after fifteen years of vaudeville and nightclubs, become an overnight sensation on the radio as a ventriloquist. More amazing still, Mr. Clayton was supposed to be a boy, yet he wore a tuxedo complete with top hat and monocle, and seemed to be from Europe. At least, that's the way it seemed. The whole thing was really wacky, but it worked. Why? Because any one who knows Kramer knew he and his ventriloquist were really funny, sometimes a little bit ribald, but always two lines away from another joke. Oh, Mr. Clayton was insulting, too. While Mr. Clayton was making his irrepressible wisecracks, Kramer seemed as surprised and amused as anyone.

After a season's intro on the The Franky Malore Hour, Kramer and Mr. Clayton were allowed to share the spotlight with Don Gibbons and Dorothy Shenk on the Gibbons and Shenk Radio Hour in 1937. Right off, Gibbons got into the act, trading insults with Mr. Clayton so fast and furious that the audience was in stitches, and the idea of a "feud" made national headlines. The show grew to be a major hit on radio, staying in the top five for a decade.

Shawn had to reread the the article a couple of times to fully understand it - it felt like the names were all backwards. He leafed through the documents, looking to see if there was a picture of the duo, or something else eye-catching.

Shawn's hands leafed quickly through the stack of papers and abruptly stopped. Looking up from the pile was clearly a picture of Grandpa. He looked young, alive and professional. Mr. Clayton was in the picture too and appeared even more polished, sporting a top hat, monocle and vest. Below the photo was another bulletin clipping, the edges clearly cut from a scissor roughly, browning and curling with age.



Many guest stars appeared to sing and sling the patter along with Kramer and Mr. Clayton in the 1930s. But the variety aspect on the show was secondary to the Kramer and Mr. Clayton themselves. Ventriloquism has long been associated with supernatural forces; its very beginnings were as a religious practice of divination. As Spiritualism grew into stage magic and escapology, so grew ventriloquism as stagecraft. Writers of Radio Thrillers never lost track of the potential for ventriloquism to be frightening. By 1941 however, audiences began to turn their back on the pair as radio ratings plummeted amid the US involvement in WWII. Against the backdrop of American servicemen deploying to Europe, Kramer and Mr. Clayton's 1942 Act "The End of Cherrywinks the Clown" was an unsuccessful attempt at dark humor that aliened the show's fan base. One of the most memorable and arguably offensive quotes of the Act was when Mr. Clayton announced: "Don't worry about deploying to Germany to fight those Krouts Kramer. If you're worried that I'm going to make love to your wife, don't! I WILL!! YUCKA YUCKA!!"

Shawn recognized Grandpa - clearly a younger version of him, but he and Mr. Clayton were utterly distinctive to Shawn. Had Mr. Clayton really belonged to his family all those years ago? How had he been lost?

While he'd thought that'd be the most shocking he'd see, then the newspaper mentioned Cherrywinks by name. That brought him up short; he immediately switched tacks, going through the pile looking for anything that mentioned the clown.

Shawn perused the pile of letters and clippings. There was a torn newspaper clipping that looked particularly old. How old, it was impossible to say because the clipping started in the middle, with a the title and date having been torn off.

The day before the circus opens, the company manager would gather the whole crew—roustabouts and elephant handlers, clowns and acrobats, tightrope walkers and jugglers—to help raise the canvas roof to the peaks on its poles, wafting above the fairgrounds the largest single piece of cloth most people would see in their lives. And early the next day, the crew would gather again to create the compound odor of the circus. The caramel smell of sugar burning on the cotton-candy machines and the faint reek of animal manure. Wood shavings and hot peanuts. Old dust shaken out of faded tents. The greasepaint and the popcorn. The sweaty hint of a ginned-up excitement, or maybe a tamped-down despair. Something, anyway, outside the ordinary and mundane. Something wonderfully unlikely and maybe disturbingly uncanny.

In fact, peculiarity seems to define nearly everyone who has helped create the Cherrywinks' Circus—not just Cherrywinks, who is the founder, but also his om stage rival Mr. Kramer and his side-kick Mr. Clayton, and even the silent business partner, who remains unknown. The Cherrywinks' Circus presents a compelling case that the interplay of these entrepreneurs will shape what Americans will picture when the word circus is spoken for years to come.


"Dear, dear, what a place it looks, that Cherrywinks; with all the paint, gilding, and looking-glass; the vague smell of horses suggestive of coming wonders; the curtain that hides such gorgeous mysteries; the clean white sawdust...What glow that, which bursts upon them all, when that long, clear, brilliant row of lights comes slowly up...Well might Mr. Kramer feel doubtful whether to laugh or cry, or run in terror?" Remarked one person, when commenting on the Circus and how Cherrywinks and Kramer had developed quite the on stage feud for the benefit of the crowds.

Of course, that leaves the question of why ticket sales have declined so far this year. The Cherrywinks' Circus has always had a bifurcated place—family entertainment seasoned with a smidgen of the forbidden and the aberrant. There is a vicarious suggestion of impending disaster, with the Flying Wallendas’ building human pyramids in the air. A titillating hint of the flesh, with the Tattoed Lady in tights parading in the center ring and peepshows tucked away in a corner of the fairway. A touch of the grotesque, a splash of the garish, a hint of the criminal.

This is without alluding to the more outrageous rumor of them all: That the indomitable and self-promoting Cherrywinks, thriving despite numerous business catastrophes, has always been seeking to outdo the pugilistic Kramer. And the allegation that Cherrywinks' greatest success in that regard came when, several years ago in the Fall of 1926, he sold his soul to demon to make the Circus a success. The allegation has been hinted relentlessly on stage since 1928 when Cherrywinks and Kramer incorporated it into the an onstage act. The idea of Cherrywinks secretly partnering with a demon while publicly proclaiming his implacable rivalry with Kramer—a quintessential Cherrywinks move.

Shawn's eyes widened as he looked through the old newspaper. There it was, all laid out - an old showbiz rivalry, a mysterious business partner, demon summoning? If it was true, it explained a lot about the trouble he'd found himself in, but it also raised further questions. Like, why Mr. Clayton himself had been there at the Circus when Bradford .

It was a lot to take in, and Shawn was doing his best...but underneath it all was an immense sense of frustration and anger. All this was because of something that happened to his grandpa? None of this was his fault, why did he have to be the one to do something about it!?

He could feel himself fuming, and he deliberately took a calming breath. He'd found this much, maybe he could find more? He went through the pile again - if Cherrywinks had made an actual deal with a demon, the true details probably wouldn't be in the newspaper. He started looking for mentions of the clown in correspondence or possible fragments of books.

Shawn kept rummaging through the pile of papers--old letters, news clippings, photos of Mr. Clayton, the Tattooed Lady--there  was even a picture of Gaggles that looked like it was from long, long ago. He found another clipping that seemed to provide some kind of history of a kind.

From Humble Beginnings To Classy But Questionable Act
Milwaukee Tribune -1936

Some five decades into his life, Roger Kramer from Wisconsin, has remade himself from his humble beginnings as an impoverished country boy into a showman—indeed the “greatest ventriloquist,” as the new correspondence about his show and act in the longstanding Cherrywinks Circus.

Thanks to a combination of brilliant marketing tactics and less-than-upstanding business practices of his partner and owner of the Cherrywinks circus, Kramer has truly arrived. Yet only a few years into this fame many have begun to question the duo's rags-to-riches success.

Cherrywinks' himself has always enjoyed a career that has trafficked in curiosities, especially in the 1920s which he served up to a public hungry for such entertainment, regardless of how factual or ethical such displays were. It may be that his his legacy in show business stretched from the American Mid West to "The American Big Top" but each have been full of bigger-than-life ideas marketed to an audience interested in mass, and often crass, entertainment.

For starters, take Kramer's own act of Ventriloquism within the Cherrywinks' Circus. How many forms of entertainment began not only as a religious practice but an explanation for what the French refer to as "Belly Noises"? The Greeks called it "Gastromancy"; the noises originating from the stomachs of religious figures were thought to be the voices of the dead, which could be interpreted to predict the future. It is said that Kramer learned ventriloquism while recovering from polio at the age of 13, and when he returned to school his art teacher allowed him to built his dummy in class. The dummy, Mr. Clayton, was named for.....

Shawn tried to read further but the article was clipped off.

Shawn read the article a couple of times, trying to piece together the past from the clipped newspaper article. So his grandpa had worked for the Circus in the past - maybe they were rivals, but it sounded like it might have been played up for showmanship. Or maybe they'd actually hated one another and were just pretending to pretend.

He knew he had to find out more, but he didn't know where to begin. He kept looking, hoping there'd be something that he could use.

Shawn saw another newspaper clip, this one slightly older or at least more weathered. The date and title had been cutt off as if whomever wanted to saved the clipping had torn it:


With the arrival of Kramer at Cherrywinks' Circus, it appears that the art of glove puppetry, which had flourished in medieval times, has been revived. Puppeteer Kramer, whose 'Peep Show' has showed the dramatic possibilities of glove puppetry beyond Wisconsin. He has carved his own puppets' heads and hands, dressed them, and pushed them around the American Mid-West in a cart setting up show wherever he could find an audience. Kramer, who is virtually unknown until now, was a simple street sweeper before buying a ticket to the regionally famous and seasonal Cherrywinks' Circus. "I did not choose to be a puppeteer" the wiley Kramer replied when asked about his arrival on the scene of the Circus "The Puppet chose me!"

Shawn found himself reading and rereading 'the Puppet chose me!' until he had to stop and put the paper aside. He was starting to understand some of what had happened; his grandfather had gone to see the Circus, somehow met Mr. Clayton there, and started working with him.

Though there was still the question of why, and whether the Circus then had been the same Circus that Shawn had dealt with. There had been rumors of demons and a silent partner, but it all seemed less openly supernatural in the papers than what he'd experience. He kept rummaging through the papers.

Daily Sentinel

February 16,1905

Sinister, human-sized ventriloquist dolls were mistaken for dead bodies when they were hauled out of a river by villagers in Spain who were so disturbed that they decided to burn them. Unfortunately, the dolls – found wrapped in a blanket in the small town of San Antonio La Esperanza – would not burn and so the community decided it was "cursed".

"We've heard rumors in nearby towns that during the last several months children have gone missing. It has something to do with these dolls." Rural farmer Jodi Velazquez told reporters.

The dolls were seen lying on the earth with one side of their face blackened and burned but the other bright blue and staring. Hinged jaws gave the dolls a creepy and scarred appearance – adding to the air of uneasiness they radiated.

One human-shaped dummy was initially mistaken for a dead adult body but, luckily, it soon became apparent it wasn't real when it was unwrapped from the shawl. A second dummy looked to be the size of a small child.

However, it remains a mystery as to who the previous owner of the dolls were was and why this person went to such great lengths to dispose of them in such a strange way.

After several attempts, the villagers finally managed to burn them, local media reports.

Local journalist Cesar Buenrostro disputed the idea of a supernatural presence and claimed locals had failed to burn the dolls at the first attempt because it was damp.

Shawn was jumping around in time and space, but this felt like the furthest back he'd been so far. Potentially cursed dolls seemed very much of a kind with Greater Ventriloquism, though obviously Mr. Clayton hadn't been burned like those dummies had.

The bit about missing children also caught his attention - had this been an early forerunner of the Circus? Or was it an independent case of Ventriloquism? Or maybe it really was just a coincidence? He started rummaging once more, looking for anything that looked as old or older than this article.

Shawn rummaged through the papers and a small, old-time book fell out. It looked like it might have been from around the same time of the last letter. An old time instruction booklet on Ventriloquism.

Shawn's eyes widened a little as he saw the booklet. Was this the same thing as the audio guide he'd learned ventriloquism from? He opened the book and started to page through it, looking for familiar instructions, or anything that looked totally out of place in an instructional manual.

Shawn looked through the book, skimming, its old, worn pages. It all brought him back to sitting for hours and hours in front of the mirror. There wasn't anything special or different from the standard lessons that he had learned practicing: the slow, methodical approach to using one's lips. The changing of difficult words and sounds for new sounds. The substituting of F and V in particular. And the endless repetition.



As Shawn was further reading, a small piece of paper fell out of the book. It was some kind of drawing. Or maybe a cartoon. There was a scribbled title across the top:

"How To Control Your Human Dummy"

Shawn felt a sense of familiarity looking over the words in the guide - it was almost nostalgic, remembering all the practice he'd done. The little piece of paper at the back was something new, though. He took a closer look.

As Shawn flipped through the guide, the pages of the small booklet naturally came open to reveal a hidden, smaller compartment. Someone had meticulously carved out of the interior of the book, each page cut out to the same measurement resulting in a small, square compartment.

Inside the compartment, was a smaller booklet. It was tucked inside the cut out pages, making it impossible to see from the outside. The title of the booklet was "A Dummy's Guide to Danger."

Shawn hadn't been sure who that little mystery page had been for - was "How To Control Your Human Dummy" instructions for him, or perhaps for Mr. Clayton? Either was, he'd need to find out more.

Finding a booklet within the booklet was even more mysterious, so he looked over the page that had fallen out, and started leafing through the smaller booklet. Perhaps he could find where the page had fallen out and see what sort of instructions the guide had.

Shawn examined the "How To Control Your Human Dummy" instructions first. It was a written diagram or even could be described as a cartoon. The diagram appeared to describe the mechanics of an actual Puppet. But the diagram itself was labeled "How To Control Your Human Dummy".





The back of the paper was filled with handwritten notes in small, tiny neat letters, as if someone with very small hands or fine motor skills had diligently measured the exact size of the letters and their placement. The neatly organized paragraphs started at the very top of the page and ended in the right-hand corner with orderly precision:

STEP 10

“They’re all dummies”

STEP 9 directed you to practice using your dummy until it moved “as naturally as you do.” But how can a block of wood, carved and painted in the likeness of a human being, ever hope to be “natural?” Before we explore the answer to this crucial question, you’re going to need to answer a question of a different but no less crucial sort: What do you wish to achieve through the art of ventriloquism?

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.

Fine. Now that that’s out of the way — again: how can a block of wood, carved and painted in the likeness of a human being, ever hope to be “natural?” Easy. Have you ever had a pet? Many at-home animals are taught to behave using commands — which may be direct (like “stay” or “sit”), but which might also involve subtle gestures and sounds, all of which you may make without conscious thought. You “push their levers” and “pull their cords” so to speak, to make them do what you want them to do. We can control our pets without effort — without thinking about it. We do one thing and think another.

And what about our relationships with other human animals? What if we actively, knowingly seek to influence (or, if we’re honest, control) the behavior of our child, our lady friend, our coworker? This is no outlandish concept. In fact, there have been countless words written on this very subject, and my own ventriloquism practice has led me to a favorite method briefly outlined as follows: the practitioner begins to assert dominance over another human being by subtly mimicking their subject’s gestures and vocal patterns. A good ventriloquist learns this method eventually, naturally.

And that’s only the beginning. A lady friend of mine, for instance, often claims that I am continuously being “passive aggressive” when in fact I have been slowly, deliberately pushing her levers for years. I have her doing and even saying exactly what I want her to do and say. And after years of practice and more practice, it comes as easily as throwing my voice or animating my Reggie’s head and mouth to the words I throw.

In point of fact, if you practice STEPS 1-10 for very long, you will eventually learn all you need to know about controlling the animals around you — human or not — bar none.

One more time: how can a block of wood, carved and painted in the likeness of a human being, ever hope to be “natural?” Now you know the answer. Whether you’re controlling the movements of that “block of wood” or controlling just how your lady friend behaves at a dinner party, either will seem perfectly natural to a third party observer (even if you know better).

STEP 10 is your first true STEP towards becoming a Greater Ventriloquist, but it is quite a simple one. Simply remember that your dummy, your pets, your family and your friends have one thing in common with each other: they’re all dummies. With practice, you’ll be amazed at how they’ll dance to the tune of your voice.

Shawn poured over the notes in detail - some of it sounded vaguely familiar, echoes of things Mr. Clayton had said before, but a lot of it was new. A bit of it even seemed like stuff he’d done before outside of Ventriloquism, in acting or even just in conversation. Matching someone’s energy to make a good impression, saying what people wanted to hear to get the reaction he wanted…

He flipped through the guide, looking for more notes on Greater Ventriloquism. Perhaps it would become clearer if the page was in the correct place in the booklet.

Shawn flipped through the booklet again, revealing more of the same instructions he had seen before. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Indeed, the instructions brought back hours and hours of practicing in front of the mirror.

"The first part of the beginner’s alphabet has 19 letters. The letters are: A, C, D, E, G, H, I, J, K, L, N, O, Q, R, S, T, U, X, and Z. With your mouth in the position described in the instructions above, recite this part of the alphabet over and over. You may have to do this hundreds or even thousands of times before you get it right. While you master this step, it may seem strange that these sounds are coming out of your mouth while it’s not moving. Try not to focus on this phenomenon or your progress as a ventriloquist may be hindered."

Wherever the diagram had come from, it was apparent that it was not from the booklet itself. In fact, it was more than likely that it was a loose piece of paper tucked into the book.

And just as Shawn had arrived at this possibility, another paper fell out of the instruction booklet:




It wasn't a paper, but rather an old photograph. At the bottom someone had written something:

Kramer and Clayton 1901?

The writing, it appeared was written in some kind of purple marker which smelled like berries. Kind of like the new ones they had been using in school during the last couple of years. This, even though the photograph itself appeared to be much older.

Shawn took another glance at the Human Dummy side of the page to see if there were any hints about what sort of book the paper originally came from, but then he turned his attention to the photo.

The picture looked really old, but the writing on it seemed newer, what with the scented marker. He compared the handwriting of the caption to the handwriting on the "Step 10" instructions. Had someone been through this stuff recently? His Mom said she'd gotten the suitcase from his Dad's closet, but did any of this look like his writing?

OOC: Shawn Rolls Wits + Investigation + 1 (equipment) extended action

3 – 10+ successes required

Each roll represents 10 minutes of activity

------------

Shawn may as many times as necessary to gain the required 3 successes

OOC: Just to confirm, would the pool for Shawn be:

Wits (2) + Investigation (0) + Equipment (1) - Untrained Penalty (-3) = Chance Die (0)

Or does the Equipment count as Ability dice for the purpose of negating the penalty, making it:

Wits (2) + Investigation (0) + Equipment (1) = 3

Edit: Alternatively, would the Study stat work instead?
This message was last edited by the player at 05:00, Tue 16 Nov 2021.

OOC: In this case it would be Wits (2) + Investigation (0) + Equipment (1) - Untrained Penalty (-3) = Chance Die (0), which basically 1d10

With the following results:

0 Successes: Shawn doesn't understand the writing or who may have made it other than that it was made recently.

1+ Successes: It all came together in that moment. Shawn realized that....

OOC: 20:46, Today: Shawn failed (dramatic failure) using 1d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD, Chance Die system with a target of 10, rerolling 10s with rolls of 1.  Wits + Investigation + 1 (equipment) .

Shawn didn't understand the writing or who may have made it other than that it was made recently. Yet the same writing was on more and more of the papers that Shawn found.

As Shawn was picking through the contents of the case, there was suddenly a knock on his door...

To Shawn's frustration, he couldn't figure out anything useful from his examination. He glanced up as he heard the knock on his door, wondering who it could be? He stuffed his papers back in the case and shoved the case under the bed before getting up to answer the door.

Shawn opened the door and Chris was standing there, arms folded. His left hand came up and briefly pushed a tough of hair away from his face before saying to Shawn

"What are you doing?" his face looking expectant as if Shawn wasn't doing something or had forgotten something that Shawn was supposed to be doing.

Shawn immediately worried that there was something he was supposed to be doing but hadn't. His mind went into overdrive thinking about how he could be letting people down, and ultimately came to a relatively prosaic answer. Even if it wasn't what Chris had in mind, surely it would seem like he was a considerate person. "I'm just getting ready for bed. Gotta find my toothbrush!" He recalled the advice of the "Step 10" he'd found, and on a whim brushed a lock of his hair out of his face, trying to imitate Chris' gesture as exactly as possible.

Chris seemed amused, but not offended. He unfolded his arms and then said "No. It doesn't work like that here. You can't go to bed yet. On Celebrity Drive, every kid stays up real late. Besides, I have to introduce you to the kids on the block."

"You're not one of those kids are you?" Chris asked, without specifying what kind of kid those kids were.

Shawn felt relieved that he hadn't offended Chris, and he definitely didn't want to be one of 'those' kids. Even if he didn't quite know what that meant. "Sure! If I'm living here, I should meet everyone, right?" In truth, he didn't mind the idea of staying up late. He was tired, but he was also worried about what his dreams might be like with Mr. Clayton resting.

"You need to meet the rest of the kids. They're actually interested in you." He said, matter of fact, like it was the check in procedure at a hotel.

There was a pause and then Chris said to Shawn in a calm voice

"Your mother is a cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt." as if that too was matter of fact. In fact, it happened so quickly, and the comment was made with such disregard for the contents of what was said, that it the sentence came out like it didn't fit at all.

Shawn didn't react to Chris' statement at first, but that was less a matter of him having a good poker face and more of it being so out of place he wasn't sure he'd even heard Chris correctly. It sounded like Chris was insulting his Mom, but Shawn wasn't entirely sure what the word meant, other than probably not positive. In the end, he forced a polite smile and acted like he hadn't heard the second part. "Well, I wanna meet the other kids too."

"Right." Chris said, as if what Shawn was saying was obvious and Shawn shouldn't be standing there in the door anymore.

"So, what are you doing staring at me then?"

Shawn cocked his head to the side in light confusion. "Umm...I thought we were going to meet the other kids?"

Chris sighed in annoyance, "This way. Lauren wants to see you."

A Chris walked down the lavish hallway Shawn noticed that it was painted a salmon color and had expensive paintings festooned with gilded frames, making it look more like a museum than the second story of a large home.

Taking one step forward Shawn heard an echo behind him, he heard someone say

"Cunt."

Shawn followed Chris, a little confused at the whole situation but trying to keep an upbeat air regardless. When he heard the echo, he turned around behind him to see if someone was making the sound. Was someone wandering the house insulting people? Was Shawn hearing things?

Shawn turned around and saw nothing but the empty hallway, the door to the guest room, his room now, wide open. There wasn't anyone there.

"What are you doing?" asked Chris annoyed, and showing signs of impatience. Chris rolled his eyes. "I said come on, already. Lauren wants to see you."

Shawn wondered if he was hearing things again, or if Chris was messing with him. Either way, there wasn't much he could do about it. He quickly moved to catch up with Chris. "Sorry! I'm still getting used to this being such a big house!"

"No problemo." Chris said casually as the boys headed down the stairs, not bothering to look back to see if Shawn was following him.

It was only then that Shawn realized just how tired his body felt. A long night of trick or treating. A long day. A long time since Mom told him that she would be picking him up at the end of the night. His arms involuntarily slouched as he made his way down the stairs.

They made their way past a small kitchenette, and Shawn realized the house had two kitchens...at least. Chris stopped in front of a small refrigerator. It a yellow magnet on it that read "Hulkamania."

"Ughhh..." Chris sighed, opening the fridge and taking out a can of budwieser. "I forgot to do this. At least I remembered." He said, as if he was talking about a chore. "I'll take them out and you stack them over there on the counter."

Shawn hadn't had a quiet moment in a long while, and the tiredness was catching up with him. Still, he cooperatively took the can and placed it on the counter. He wasn't sure what this was, but it seemed like a chore Chris was doing. "Who're the cans for?" His tone was mildly curious.

Chris didn't answer right away, he just kept moving the cans from the fridge to Shawn's arms. Then over his shoulder he said "For everyone who's coming over."

A few more beer cans and Shawn's arms grew heavier.

"Mr. Reiner. And Mr. Landis, the guy who did the Werewolf thing. Oh, and that woman with the grey hair who's always coming over and talking about that movie Three Sisters."

Everything else had been a mystery until Shawn heard those names. He had been in and around the movie industry long enough, even if he was a child to immediately recognize those names: Movie directors. And not just any movie directors. Those were some of the most famous and sought after directors in the movie industry.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:35, Mon 29 Nov 2021.

Shawn carefully offloaded the cans onto the counter as requested, trying to keep up with Chris grabbing them from the fridge. "Oh! That's pretty neat!" Shawn knew enough about movies to understand that what a big deal this was. Even though he'd been in a lot of movies and shows, he'd never really been in one big enough that he'd met someone actually famous.

Chris finished loading the cans into Shawn's arms and then collected as many as he could in his own. The boys started down the hall, Chris moving first, with awkward, unbalanced steps, like a sailor on an unsturdy ship.

"It's a big Halloween party." Chris explained. "And it's happening tonight. Here. But it's not that unusual. Dad has people over at least once a week."

Shawn had been up all day. And now, it appeared, the night had just begun.

Shawn trailed after Chris, realizing that his Mom had managed to find yet another Hollywood party for him to attend. "That sounds cool - will there be other kids there too?" It was looking to be a long night, but part of Shawn didn't mind. He wasn't that far from Main Street, and after hearing the kind of dreams Edith and the other kids were having, he was comfortable putting sleep off for a little while longer.

"Yes, I think so. Well, I hope so." Chris corrected. "It's annoying if its only me. But you're hear at least. It's been a while since one of you has been around." Chris said, if that was something or as if Shawn's arrival was somehow not unique.

"Yeah, even if there's no one else, at least there'll be someone cool to hang out with." Shawn spoke nonchalantly, as though it was a given that Chris was both cool and willing to hang out with him. "So there's been other kids living here before?" He tried to sound casual, even though he was incredibly curious about the living situation he'd found himself in.

"Oh yeah." Chris said, nodding his voice as they stepped into the kitchen. He put the cans down on the counter and then took out a small wash cloth, dabbing it with water from the sink. Then he began to clean the cans before putting each one in the freezer.

"It doesn't happen as much as it did before. Dad meets someone new. He usually calls her a 'friend.' But I know its just like, a person who can try to replace Mom." Chris explained, extending his hand so Shawn could hand Chris the next can of beer to be wiped clean and put into the ice cold freezer.

"No offense. You guys come around like once or twice a year. You're the kids of the new woman trying to replace Mom."

That definitely gave Shawn a lot of context that he was missing, and explained why Chris had been so hostile when they'd met.  "None taken. You're really nice, actually; I'd probably have been way meaner if I were in your shoes." He handed Chris the next can of beer.

Chris shrugged his shoulders in response to Shawn, taking the can from Shawn and putting it in the freezer. "There, that's the last one." He said, looking down admiringly at the neatly stacked cans of Budweiser.

"If you put the beer in the freezer too long, it will explode. But a few hours is just right. That's how Dad likes it."

He turned to Shawn.

"There's gonna be a lot of people here tonight. A lot."

Shawn also looked at the stack of cans with a sense of accomplishment - teamwork, right? He wasn't exactly excited for a big Hollywood party, but it seemed like exactly the sort of this his Mom would want him to take part in. "Is there anything you've gotta do at the party? Can I help?" He was determined to get Chris onside.

"Noarrgh." Chris moaned, head back in a rictus of pain that made it look like something genuinely bad was happening to him. But then Shawn realized Chris was just complaining with exaggeration.

"It's gonna be a disaster." He said with dead certainty. "So many people. Probably more people than at like a Hulk Hogan wrestling match or a Michael Jackson concert."

"Yeah they'll be kids there, but its just too much. And its all the time. I hope you know how to clean up. Because that's exactly what we'll be asked to do once this thing is all over. That's what it always comes down to." Christ said with annoyance.

"OK, hey, did you go trick or treating?" He asked Shawn.

"That sounds really bad. I'm tired just hearing about, and you do it all the time?" Shawn had to admit that the cleanup sounded pretty crummy - and an overcrowded party filled with important people sounded incredibly stressful! But at least if Chris was complaining, Shawn could be relatively honest about his feelings. "Yeah, I did some trick or treating. How about you?"

"No." Chris said, with firmness that indicated both disappointment and a foreknowledge of what was to come. "But if I were you I'd hold onto that candy. You may need it"

Shawn winced a little. "Oh....I already gave my candy away to a friend. Is there a backup plan?"

Chris smiled a knowing smile for a second that gave way to an exhausted sigh.

"Nope. It's just that no one goes shopping after the parties. You'll see."

He headed towards the front door looking back at Shawn "Come on. It's getting late. If we're gonna go see the other kids, we've got to do it now."

Shawn gave him a slightly tired look, not as a complaint, but more showing that he could tell where Chris was coming from. Then he straightened himself up and tried to seem a little cheerier. "Right, let's go!" He followed Chris towards the door.

They exited through back door to the house, walking out onto to a small patio with garrish, angular, modern art sculptures that looked like they were straight out of an MTV music video. Chris walked ahead and towards a tree in the backyard. Shawn could see that it had a ladder.

Another tree house.

And it bordered the tree house from the other side where Edith lived. Chris' house--Shawn's house now--was backed up to Edith's house. Shawn could see the treehouse he had just been in from Chris' backyard.

Shawn looked up at the treehouse, feeling a bit of deja vu as he approached. He wondered if Edith was still camped out with her charts and her mystery files. He continued to follow Chris. "Hey, cool tree house!"

"Yeah" Chris said as he began to climb. "Just wait until you get and see inside!" Chris said, the cynical guard he had kept up for the entire night now giving way to the excitement and wonder more appropriate for a kid his age. Indeed, it was the first time that night Shawn had seen Chris approach something of excitement and happiness.

"What are you waiting for!? Don't be a rotten egg!" Chris aid, his head sticking out from way up above at the base of the house that fit neatly in the tree and then disappearing inside.

Shawn was a little relieved to see that the seemingly standoffish Chris was also capable of earnestness. He couldn't suppress a giggle as he followed Chris up the ladder to the house. "I wanna see the top!"

Shawn gripped each wooden rung of the ladder to pull himself up. The wood was polished and lacquered and provided a much smoother grip than Edith's tree house. But when Shawn got up to the top of the tree house that was when it truly hit him.

The space opened up to a large room. Someone had placed a carpet on the floor and there was even some folding chairs that had been moved into the tree house with a large, spacious table. As Shawn approached, he saw that the table had a map on it. A map of the neighborhood that had been written in colored, black pencil. The homes were highlighted in green, different trails of neighborhoods in red and yellow.

"Welcome to the tree house!" Chris announced, suddenly in a much better mood, it appeared. "Any questions?" He asked, and for once that night, he didn't seem to be annoyed.

Shawn was amazed at what he saw within the tree house, and for once he didn't have to hide his genuine reaction. He looked around at the oversized, carpeted room, with actual furniture inside with openmouthed wonder. "Wow, this place is amazing!" He took a step inside, noticing what was on the table. "Oh cool, what's the map for?"

"It's for the investigation." Chris said. "Lauren is investigating what is happening on Main Street. Basically, kids are disappearing and its really bad. You probably heard about what's going on. But Lauren knows a lot more than you do. She knows a lot more than everyone. Basically, she's going to be a reporter when she grows up."

"So, she likes to go to really dangerous places. Like Main Street."

"She's been collecting information through talking to different kids. She calls them 'sources.'"

Shawn took a closer look at the map, clearly surprised. "Oh, you know about that too? All the kids on Rodeo Drive were worried about that too." Edith had asked him to investigate Celebrity Drive, surely this would help him do just that.

"Do you have any idea what's causing it?" Also like with Edith, Shawn was leery to talk about supernatural causes unless he knew his audience was open to the idea. The last thing he needed was people thinking he was crazy.

"Rodeo Drive. Ha! Edith." Chris snorted with what sounded like dismissal. "Don't worry, you'll get the full briefing." He said, shifting to a more kind voice. "Lauren knows more than anybody on Celebrity Drive, Rodeo Drive or any other street, you name it."

"No idea what's causing it. I don't that is. But I'm pretty sure that Lauren knows. Why? What have you heard?"

Shawn could tell from the way Chris talked about Edith that he shouldn't be too complimentary of her. And at least it gave him an easy way to test the waters. "Well...I heard stuff about weird dreams kids were having - and something about clowns? Have you heard anything like that?" He trailed off a little, as though he was unsure; if Chris thought that was silly, he could pretend it was just something he'd heard from Edith, and not what he believed. If Chris seemed like he believed it, Shawn could explain further.

"Something like that." Chris shrugged, waving away the specifics of what Shawn was alluding to with a lazy gesture of his hand, as if the details were not of major importance to him. "Don't worry. Lauren will be here soon." He said, "When her and the others come, we'll figure it all out."

It didn't take long. Soon after Chris finishes speaking, there was the sound of kids talking and giggling. A pair of small kids hands, appeared from below the decking near the ladder. Black hands, Shawn saw.

A small girl emerged into the tree house. Several other kids followed her into the tree house. They were all neatly dressed, their clothing all prim and proper as if they were a bunch of small adults ready to go on a golf outing at a country club.

The black girl came close to Shawn and he saw she was quite short for her age.



"Are you Shawn?" She said in a friendly, soothing voice. It was the kind of voice that you would want to read you a story before going to bed.

Shawn wasn't sure what to make of Chris' reaction, but fortunately Lauren and her friends arrived and meant he didn't have to explore it further. He gave Lauren a friendly smile. "That's right, I'm Shawn. Are you Lauren?"

The kids behind Lauren began to crowd around, some saying things

"He's the one in the commercial!" one shouted.

"I seen 'em on TV, or in a movie or something." another said.

Lauren smiled at Shawn



"I am. And we're very glad to have you." She said in a friendly tone. "Please, have a seat." She said, a little more formality than Shawn was used to coming from a girl her age. "Welcome to Kids Incorporated." Lauren said, sitting down herself. "That's the name of our tree house club on Celebrity Drive, and this is our Tree House."

Shawn sat down across from Lauren. She seemed very formal and polite, but the good thing about that from Shawn's prospective was that it made it clear how he should react. "Thank you, it's really nice to meet you. I really like your tree house."

Lauren smiled again



"Ummm..hhhmmmmm." She agreed, nodding her head. "I'm so glad you said that. When Chris called me on the phone and said that you were from Main Street or Rodeo Drive, I made sure that I called everyone who was a member of Kids Incorporated. We're all so happy that you are here. We're involved in an super slooth investigation." Lauren explained.


"I like to talk about what is most important." Lauren said. "So I'll get straight to the point."

"We want you to join Kids Incorporated and be part of our club and our investigation."

It all seemed straightforward enough to Shawn, and their goals were clearly aligned. He nodded amiably. "I mean, if you're really investigating what's going on on Main Street, I'd be happy to help."

"Perfect! That's great." Lauren exclaimed. "But there's just one little thing..." Lauren started to say before one of the other kids cut her off.

"He can't be friends with the Club on Main Street!" a kid shouted.

"Yeah! Jimmy is a jerk! He egged my house!" another shouted.

There was a chorus of complaints suddenly about Edith and Jimmy and Sara. Then Lauren turned around and with that the kids simmered down.

"Yeah." Lauren said, as if she was tired from herding cats. "That's pretty much it. You can't be friends with any of them anymore. Besides, you live here now. That shouldn't be a problem, right?"

Shawn hesitated for a moment - he didn't like the idea of having to reject one group of friends in favor of another. Especially when he hadn't even known either group for a full day, and knowing he needed all the help he could get. He tried to come up with a compromise that'd let him keep access to both. "I get it, those guys are jerks. But I just thought of something - what if I pretended to still be their friends? That way I can tell you guys what stuff they've found out as soon as they find it."

Chris stiffened at Shawn's words while Lauren nodded in agreement.

The crowd of kids behind her began to discuss Shawn's strategy. First with whispers and murmurs and then with louder words, the idea clearly dividing the group.

"Absolutely not!" one boy shouted. "He can't be friends with kids on Main Street. They aren't like us."

"We need to find out what is happening and he knows about it." Another girl countered.

"Want to play tic tac toe?" A smaller kid said to both from the corner of the crowd, question being drowned out by the growing argument.

Shawn could tell his idea was divisive, so he didn't want to alienate half the group by committing too hard to it. "It's just an idea I had, is all. It just feels like this investigation's really important, so we should put that first, right?" Hopefully they'd see his point, so he could hang out with both groups without making them mad.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:55, Thu 16 Dec 2021.

Shawn struck a neutral ground with the words, but it was too late. Indeed, as the bickering continued, kids moved from one side of the wooden boards to the other and now there was a clear divide. Both sides were yelling.

Chris jabbed his finger in the air, like it was knife.

"We talked about this before Lauren! We can't trust those kids from Main Street. They aren't like us at all!" his friendly demeanor now salted with annoyance and a touch of anger.

"I know! But its different when you have to tell someone that they can't be friends with their entire neighborhood. How would you feel?" Lauren countered, her voice quavering, unclear if she was going to cry or yell. "Besides, he's right. We need to put the investigation first." Lauren finished.

The kids on her side were yelling at Chris. One kid stuck his tongue out and made a farting noise, making fun of the kid on the other side that he had squared off with.

Shawn was living with Chris, so he was definitely the one that Shawn wanted to persuade the most. He widened his eyes a little, looking guileless, like someone who hadn't meant to touch off an argument like he did and was now trying to find a compromise that made everyone happy - which, in fairness, was entirely true - and looked at Chris. "Maybe that's how I can help? If the Main Street kids try anything sneaky, I'll be able to find out about it and warn you?"

Things quieted down as the yelling gave way to murmurs, each kid eagerly eying how the two sides would weigh Shawn’s proposal.

“Alright.” Chris conceded, a bit of pep to his voice, as if he really hadn’t conceded anything.

“You can be like a spy for us. A full member of our club. But I’ll be watching you…”

"There is no reason to worry. It’s just important that you don’t stay friends with them. I think that will satisfy most people in the group. You’re with us now. So don’t lose yourself when you go over there. Remember,  you have to find out details that can help us solve this case. The missing kids." Lauren finished.

Shawn nodded firmly, trying to convey that he was going to take his self-imposed spy mission seriously. "I have a friend who's missing too, so I'm gonna make sure to tell you everything I learn." He especially wanted to convince Chris, since they were living together and all.

"So what do you guys know about what's going on? Chris said you know more about it than anyone."

Lauren frowned and rubbed her eyes. "I’ll tell you…we’ll tell you everything " Lauren said, glancing over at Chris to make sure he was going to comply.

“I’m so sorry that you have a friend that is missing. I really am. I don’t know what that must feel like. And to have it happen in your own neighborhood…I’m sorry. That must be hard.”

For a moment, Shawn let some of his actual feelings of vulnerability show through - how tired and stressed and afraid he felt. "I just...have to keep doing stuff. The more I know, the more I can help." He looked at her hopefully, almost expectantly - Lauren had said she'd tell him everything, and he wanted to learn.

After Shawn spoke, revealing true everyone was silent. Outside, the wind rustled creaking the wooden floor boards that everyone was sitting or standing on.

No one said anything.

A kid, a girl by the sound of it, was sniffling somewhere behind Lauren, perhaps she had also knew of someone that had gone missing. Or maybe it was just a cold.

Finally Chris spoke. “It’s coming from one house on Main Street”

Shawn kept quiet in case anyone had more to add. He didn't want to seem ungrateful, but that alone wasn't much to go on - hopefully they knew more than just that and just needed encouragement to further explain. "I think I know which house you're talking about." Shawn described Ralph's house, feeling a pang as he was indirectly reminded of Bobby once again. "Kids go to the house, but they don't come back, right? At least not normally?"

Picking the right moment was something that Shawn had learned over time, first on stage in acting. And more recently through hours and hours of practice. Just pausing that one second, appearing grateful and then finishing with a question. It might have been nothing to the unpracticed eye, but Shawn knew that details mattered in a delicate conversation like this. And his patience and practice paid off.




"That's just part of it." Lauren confirmed. "We did some research on the house at the library."

"I did the research." Chris corrected.

"Chris did the research." Lauren agreed, clearly doing her best to not get frustrated at Chris. She did a good job as far as Shawn could tell. It would be more than a passing job to get passed the first rounds of a try on on stage.

"The house isn't supposed to exist. There's no record of it in the town registry. There's no sale of it. No one even purchased it." Chris said. "I know because my Dad taught me how to the use the Dewey decimal system at the library before the last woman like your Mom was living with us."

"So, when we started investigating the house, I just told the librarian at school career day that I was looking into being involved in like selling homes. It's really boring stuff to be honest. Nothing like Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous with Robin Leach. But it turns out that there's a whole bunch of information at the library. And there's sale records in the public records area with micro..feesh... I think that's how he pronounced it."

"Anyway, all of the homes on Main Street, Rodeo Drive and Celebrity Drive have records. Except that one house. There are no records of it being sold or bought or even built. Nothing."

"Also, there's no record of anyone living at that house because its not supposed to exist. So that woman is some kind of imposter."

"We think she's a ghost."

Shawn nodded along with Chris, genuinely impressed at him being smart enough to look this stuff up at the library and find something interesting from it. And it made it even clearer what Bradford and Mr. Clayton had done together, not only putting Ralph and...and Bobby in the house, but creating it altogether! And now it was the den of...him.

Fortunately, the idea of ghosts had already been brought up, so Shawn felt comfortable in adding more details of what he knew. "I think you're right. I've tried to investigate stuff myself, and I thought the lady's a fake." He paused for a moment or two, partially to think about what he was going to say, and partially to build a bit of anticipation so they'd pay more attention when he did speak. "Have you guys heard anything about clowns? Or a circus?"

Lauren and Chris looked at each other and then both back to Shawn. The tree house grew silent for a second.

"Yes." Chris said. "The fact is, that, the only record of that plot or land or whatever you want to call it is about that. The librarian had to go through the microfiche and she found some old article. Like way old. Older than my grandpa and he was in World War II. Anyway, before the development was build that whole area on Main Street used to be used from a traveling fair. Some kind of Circus or something. The spot where that house was used to be the only place the post office used to deliver mail. I mean, the only marking place. The article was from before my grandpa went to the war. It was just someone in a newspaper talking about their childhood or something from long ago and it was published like, when my grandpa was a kid."

Chris cleared his throat, putting his hands in his pockets. "Anyway, the house doesn't exist. And the land under the house was the spot where the post office would deliver mail. And that's it. The field were the Circus set up was basically all of what is now Main Street. And the Circus only came around like once in a long while."

"Do you know something about Circus and Clowns that might help?" Lauren asked hopefully.

Shawn had read some interesting things from the papers in Mr. Clayton's case, and it sounded like Chris' research lined up it as well - there was an old Circus, and it had been here before. Still, even if the history was important, he knew he should share the stuff that he'd learned from others first. "I think so. Kids on Rodeo Drive are starting to have dreams about clowns and circuses. And all of the ones that do, they eventually disappear. And a lot of them were seen around that house."

"Well, we know that many kids of gone missing and it sounds like you've linked kids you know to being missing and the house."

"But there's still something we don't understand."

"I took notes on the microfiche." Chris said, producing a notebook. "Much better notes than when I'm in class." Chris smiled, as if noting that he was in fact, not interested in class and therefore could not be relied upon to take notes.

Shawn leaned in with interest, wanting to find out where the Celebrity Drive investigators were missing information. "What don't you understand? Maybe I could help." He looked impressed when Chris took out a notebook; for someone who didn't like class, taking notes was clearly a big effort!

"Well, for one, we we debating where the Circus was, and if it was just a kind of coincidence. I mean, I told you what I found at the library. That was the entire area where the Circus was: Main Street. And it had a name. Cherry or something. Here." Chris looked through his notebook.

"Cherrywinks." He pronounced.

"But then, that really is just the name of Circus that was popular at the time. Like, it made appearances in Wisconsin, New York and a bunch of other places. So, how do we know if it is important or not?"

Shawn hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to share what he knew. And ultimately, he decided to go with as much truth as he could. "It is important. Mr. Cherrywinks is the one who runs the Circus. And he's the one who's kidnapping all the kids - the ones earlier this year, and the ones recently." He said it as forthrightly as possible - he knew saying this would invite further questions, and he wanted to sound believable.

A murmur erupted from the rest of the group. One girl with long black hair and a skinny neck let out a wimper. A younger, short boy covered himself with his coat as if that would protect him from this new information.

"Should we go to the police?" Chris asked, stiffening now that a name had been placed alongside the occurrences. "Is Cherrywinks some kind of guy? Like an escaped convict?" He asked. "I saw an episode of  Macgyver where there were escaped convicts in the woods in the mountains." Chris offered, as if that would somehow help them all deal with the situation at hand.

Shawn shook his head. "He's not a guy anymore. He's like a ghost - an evil ghost. The police wouldn't believe us." And even if they did believe him, what could they even do against him? Admittedly, the same logic applied to the kids - what could they even do to stop him?

Where as before there was a murmur in among the rich kids in this--and it had to be admitted--opulent tree house, now there was complete silence as everyone took in the meaning of Shawn's words.

It was Lauren who first broke the silence.



"What do you mean, a ghost?" Lauren asked, emphasizing the last word while leaning forward, clearly interested in what Shawn might have to say.

"I'm not surprised" Chris said, folding his arms and then dropping the stance to pick up his notebook, and leaf through it. "Ehh...ghost, let's see."</Blue> Chris said, as if searching for any notes he may have taken on his visit to the library while Shawn answered Lauren's question.

Other kids were now talking, filling the moments before Shawn spoke with their own theories of what a Cherrywinks ghost could be.

"I mean, I dunno if he's a ghost ghost. Shawn was admittedly a little iffy on if Cherrywinks was a ghost, a demon, or even if such a distinction had any meaning at all. "But he's not a human anymore; he's a monster. That's why he can do the stuff he does. A regular person couldn't make nightmares that summon kids."

As Shawn starting speaking, the kids around him had quieted down. First there were whispers and then they all stopped talking. Almost all at once. All of the sudden, it was as if Shawn was at a try out for a movie part. Except this time he wasn't really pretending to be someone else or some other character. He was explaining things. Things that were based on his experiences.


"I believe it." Chris said, his voice dropping to a serious tone that made it sound even more sincere against the backdrop of silence.

Then he thumbed through the book.

"Actually, there's one thing right here. I wrote it down. The library really didn't have much stuff in it other than old news papers. But there's a much bigger library in downtown Los Angeles that has a book about this. A book about Cherrywinks. The librarian said that its old and its in the libraries out of print section." Chris said. Then he looked down one more time.

"I wrote the address to the library down."

Shawn felt relieved. Regardless of whether the other kids believed him, at least Chris seemed on his side - which was important, since they were living under the same roof! "How far away is the library?" If there was a book on Cherrywinks out there, he needed to try and track it down. He didn't have many other options!

"Um, I dunno." Chris confessed. "I've only been downtown in a car. Usually when Dad wants to take one of his new girlfriends to a fancy restaurant. Then I have to get all dressed up and I hate. He makes me wear a tie."


"But we could go there! I have bikes!" Chris said, as if the idea suddenly came to him.

Shawn had his own bike, and was about to mention that when he realized that it was still over at his Dad's house, and he didn't know what going to visit would do to...whatever was going on between him and Mom. "That seems like a really good idea! Two heads are better than one, right?"

Lauren nodded her head.



"Chris, Shawn" Lauren said in a tone that seemed to indicate the next step had been decided. "Go to the library tomorrow in downtown LA and get the book."

Then she looked among the kids gathered in the tree house.

"Melissa. You used to live downtown. Go with them just in case something happens and everyone gets lost. We can't afford to loose the book."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:17, Fri 21 Jan 2022.

"We won't get lost" Chris murmured, as if slightly annoyed. Still, he didn't seem too annoyed like when Shawn first met him. His mood had been really quite nice since they had gotten to the tree house.

A skinny girl with black hair stepped out from the rest of the kids to answer Lauren.



"Yoooooooooooooou betcha!" She said with supreme optimism.

"Hi, I'm Melissa." She said, voice a mixture of both excitement, energy but with a raspy sound to it. One of those people that were born with a raspy voice. She'd probably be the type that people would ask if she smoked in the future. Though that was clearly impossible given she was a kid like Shawn. Shawn had only met a few girls with a raspy voice like that on set.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:22, Fri 21 Jan 2022.

It wasn’t much, but there was a plan now, and Shawn had allies (maybe even friends, but it was a little too early to rely on that). He was feeling a little better about his chances. “I know we can bust this case wide open.” He was putting on his optimistic and trustworthy act for the others, but it was a little easier now that there was something to back it up.

After Shawn said the words everyone began to nod and the kids started to talk again. Melissa began speaking about how fun it was to live downtown near the library and all of the fun things that she used to do with friends there. Chris started to talk to Lauren about what they would do when they found the old book and how it might reveal clues about the woman living in Ralph's house. The other kids began to offer various theories, some outrageous about the old woman and her evil powers. Shawn heard one kid say that the old woman probably ate little children like in the story of Hanzel and Gretel.

Chris broke the silence.

"OK." He said. "Looks like Shawn and I have to go. Everyone can stay as long as they like. We'll get down to the library tomorrow morning after chores. Right now Shawn and I have to go to the Halloween Party."

A skinny girl with black hair stepped out from the rest of the kids to answer Lauren.



"Oh, a Halloween Party! That sounds like fun! Is it the same one you had last year? With all of the music and costumes." Melissa asked, clearly enthralled with the idea but her voice also gave way a hint of disappointment that she wasn't invited.

"Same one." Chris said, with a sigh, his shoulders slumping. "And no, it's not really that fun. It's supposed to be a party, so you'd think it would be fun for kids. But its more like adults acting like kids."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:06, Sat 22 Jan 2022.

Shawn listened to the other kids' speculation, in case he heard something that sounded like it made sense, but it was mostly just guesses. He tried to look sympathetic for Chris' sake when they talked about the party. "Well, I'm glad you'll be there so there's at least one person I know. Maybe we can make our own fun?"

Chris nodded, and went down the ladder. The light from the tree house faded and Shawn saw Chris look up at him before the darkness of the night shrouded Chris' face. The boy didn't seem happy to leave the treehouse.

"Come on." Chris said. "We have to go to the party now. Otherwise, they'll get into the places they shouldn't."

Shawn followed Chris, giving the kids in the treehouse a friendly wave goodbye before he left. He nodded resolutely in response to Chris. "I'll follow your lead."

Shawn joins thread: Halloween: A Party Not to Be Believed