Clover Duck What if I say I'm not like the others? What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
"Has anybody ever felt like... like they know exactly how it feels to die? I mean, those of ya who haven't actually died before. I bet there's a lot of ya here, but I'm askin' people who're pretty sure they've never died before. Just, uh... Just a thing I was wonderin'. For no real reason, y'know?"
Clover is a completely normal 15-year-old girl. Sure, her best friend back home turned out to have magic powers or something, and she'd been having regular meet-ups with said best friend's ghost mother, and then it turned out demons exist, ranging from the blatant dickbags to the pompous French douches, but she is still just a girl, she swears. Heck, she shouldn't need to swear. Does she look like she has horns? No? There you go.
Now let's see how long it takes for Mayfield to drive her batshit crazy.
(there will be a picture here once I figure out how to keep it from breaking this table completely)
Preferred clothing - X Toolbox - X Actual contents of said toolbox - The ability to hold a(n arguably) serious conversation with an animal - X Chronic shoulder pain - X Photo of her best friend - X Supernatural strength - X The tiny shack she calls a workshop - X Actual contents of said workshop - OTHER THINGS I AM FORGETTING... - ???