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The corners of Clovis’s lips flexed into a snarl. Some of the characters here were questionable, but this guy… “If anybody needs to be sucked into the void, it’s that one, for the love of fuck.”

“I did indeed say that, yes.”

Clovis sighed deeply and crossed his arms. “As much as I’d like to contribute something useful, I’m acting dead weight right now.”

“Too be fair, this game is also about lying.”

“Tacking on there, was also gracieusement surnommé vanille,” Clovis said. He did, however raise his brows at the drop of Wes’s intel. Somebody already coming forth with the fresh details? He didn’t know what side they were on, but something was better than nothing. “That’s…how do you say in...

Clovis whirled his head around to eye this little green girl. Was she...cosplaying a Flygon? How cute. And she was speaking some sense. "Fantastic idea, lets just pull up the interrogation box." He averted his eyes back to Pixie. "See little thing, we're trying not to meet the void. And I...

Clovis's brow twitched. "Keep the Pokemon cruelty to whoever's trying to kill us off," he suggested. His grin became wry. "Unless that's you?" There was a clear shift in Mike's demeanor as the medicine apparently got ahold of him. Clovis also found himself impressed; Pokemon based medicine back...

[Phone deleted half my reply?? Okay.]

Clovis offered a sincere laugh. At least this guy could stretch his sense of humor in the face of such adversity. “I’m also glad, I didn Well, thank Gods somebody had the common sense to bring some first aid stuff. A Gardevoir no less. They were always such fantastically smart Pokemon...

Clovis approached the writhing man, holding his hands up tentatively. “Easy man,” he said. “I’ve seen my fair share of fucked up ankles before, mind if I have a look-see?” He offered a short smirk, before kneeling down to his height. He pushed back whatever clothing was covering it, and...

Clovis would have thought people—even Pokemon—would be raised on manners. But no, it seemed that nobody here had been taught that caves echo, and that being obnoxiously loud was incredibly unnecessary. He grit his teeth as he brought his hands to his ears. “Dear Gods, you lot are some loud...

A cave now? Fucking perfect. It was somehow better than the field, yet still just as bad. At the very least, his suit would keep him warm against that cave chill. Though, not that that was the only chill in the air now. Two eliminations. Both innocent. Clovis frowned. “Off to a rollicking good...

Clovis blinked. “Alright, that was a fast reboot.”

“I have an inkling of a feeling that’s short for something,” he cracked. “But I won’t press.” He opened his mouth to make more idle conversation, when they were suddenly interrupted by this…computer thing. He wouldn’t say he was entirely taken aback by it, he’d surely seen weirder shit back...

“De rien,” he replied. He exchanged looks with Wes again as he took another drag. “Clovis. Yours?”

Thank fucking gods. Clovis sighed with relief as he approached Wes and took the lighter. He ignited the cigarette and wasted no time in sucking in the deepest drag he could. His head cleared as he exhaled the smoke toward the sky. “Fantastique,” he huffed, handing the lighter back. “You’re a...

Clovis’s expression didn’t fall, but his eyes began to shine with mild embarrassment. He guess he should have known better than to ask something like that. People could have naturally white hair…right? Sure. None of that mattered, though. He raised his brows at the question. “Sure am, you got one?”

Clovis began tapping his foot, waiting for some answer. If he got burned to death, he got burned to death—at least that would put some smoke in his lungs, for fucks sake. On instinct, he slightly turned his head, just in time to catch somebody staring at him. This guy, in his rather flashy...

A Charizard. Such a powerful ‘mon. Made sense that one would be in charge of all of this. The level of ominousness behind all of this was kind of thrilling. A ritual? Sounded dangerous. He was kind of here for it. A chuckle escaped him as he stuck his cigarette between his lips, out of sheer...

It seemed that most of Clovis’s fellow players were eager to get to know each other. Going as far as to make friends, apparently? He guessed it made sense, given mafia was a game of ally-ship and knowing who to trust, but he could hardly justify running into the crowd and presenting himself so...