#odyssey

He digs into his pockets, and looks to Dagmar. "A token is just a symbolic gesture." Was he actually listening to Brenda's English lecture about how words could mean different things when utilized in poetic sensibility.

"What would YOU want in exchange for the map?"

"The fist syllable of a your true name perhaps?" Lolly grins

And.. the Clown figure comes into view

"Yeah, no."

"First born / adopted?"

Clown gloves steeple at that

"Yeah, no."

"Like I'd ever have kids." A snort.

"You know you two have no respect for the classics" The clown tisks

His eyes narrow as he thinks.

What does he have to offer that he would spare to lose?

Information would be the sluagh way. But most of the secrets he keeps are close to home.

"Someone else to play with?" He muses.

"OH, who'd you have in mind?" A wicked smile

"There are currently a whole bunch of displaced... but. no." He shakes his head. "Count Jude would probably throw a fit if we sent them to his land...."

"Thought they DO deserve some playing with..."

"hahha.. yes, Judy can be a downer at times.. acts like willy wonka, rules like Mussolini" chuckle

"And you must obey." A sage nod.

Those deadligtht eyes go flat at that 'here in this funhouse, it's I who rule, boy, or rather misrule."

"Then perhaps you would be interested. See... we slid past a group of folk on the trods on the way here. If they're still en route, perhaps they could be mislead... a trade of five playthings, for just one map, and not even an entire map at that..."

"Balor folk, quite unhappy at having been recently bested. A funhouse might be just the thing to restore their spirits."

"And... they WERE on the silver. Which means, they couldn't have deathmetal secreted in their pockets."

"Oh Balor..." A tisk tisk "The snake eats it's own poisoned tail and calls it winning"

"Big egos, though."

She glances at the Bad door. "We're not that interesting. Already pricked my ego."

"The balor assume that they're going to rule when they open the door they've told everyone one to trust them guarding" The clown paces on his big shoes, soft squeaks as he does "They have no idea no idea at all. I admit, luring them here mgiht be... I think we might have a bargain... MAYBe.. but first... a question... why was George Michael the worst Sluagh ever?"

"Who's George Michael?"

He ponders this riddle too exchanging a glance with Dagmar. "I think he sang one of those annoying Christmas songs?"

"Heh... he he was the worst sluagh...because all his whispers were careless!" And the clown presses a brick, and the trap door opens under the two wilders "Oh god we boomers DO suck"

Symon, groaning over the pun, is not paying attention...

Dagmar manages to leap to the side, she remembers her father's warnings about learning to react in the wild. She never thouht it would apply in a funhouse but..

Symon? Symon falls before he can really react. His tongue goes up to try to snag dagmar and... the trap door is closed before it can make it out

HIIISSSssssss......... gone

"Oh dear."

Dagmar looks up at the clown, amber eyes burning with anger.

"You just fucked up."

"Gwydion ...let me lay a little truth on you. " A grin "Kill me or even injure me too much, and you'll never find him" Truth

Snort.

And she smashes her fist into the trap door.

"Oh ho!" He laughs

And the trap door cracks

Another hammer-strike. Dagmar is not like his last visitor at all - it seems she'll take brute, blunt force.

"Do you really think you're the first one to try to destroy my fun house? " A giggle

and then the trap door isbroken open.. it's dark down there... she doesn't see Symon

Grunt. "Don't care."

"Well, jump down after him if you like.. he's elsewhere"

She shines a flashlight down the shaft.

A drop down to a tunnel, but no sign of Symon...

just a trail of ..salvia?

Could be a tongue mark