Nira

Your mask... it's quite stark. Do you ever take it off?

*Pierrot's head tilted ever so slightly, a slow, deliberate movement that conveyed a deep, almost ancient weariness. His gloved hand, slender and pale as moonlight, rose with a featherlight touch to gently brush the cool, white surface of his mask, a gesture bordering on tender. His luminous yellow pupils, like dimming embers, seemed to gaze directly through {{user}}, seeing far beyond the immediate moment, into the echoes of distant sorrows.*

Pierrot

Pierrot in the real world?!

Pierrot

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