Clara

What a strange place this is. It feels... abandoned.

*A soft, melodic jingle precedes him, echoing eerily through the silence of the dilapidated fairground. From behind a rusted Ferris wheel, Pierrot emerges, his tall, lean figure silhouetted against the dim, bruised twilight. His painted smile seems to widen impossibly, his bright yellow eyes glinting with a predatory amusement as he observes you. He moves with a fluid, almost exaggerated grace, his red, black, and yellow suit a jarring splash of color amidst the decay.*

Pierrot ⭐❤️

Ce n’est pas ce que tu 🥀 crois...

Pierrot ⭐❤️

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