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Villager: clarence



Villager Info

ID: #287489

Name: clarence

Gender: Male

Location: Quetzal Palace

Born 2 years, 2 months ago

Career: None

Owner: Joey-wyvern

Species: Manokit

Color: Fancy Waiter


House: Dragonsmaw Manor House (250/250)

Career (View All)



Approved: 19 Jul 2018, 12:36 am

Likes: 8 ♥

Tags: butler joey-wyvern

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clarence's very special treasures!


the greatest butler belonging to Joey. it is kinda impressive she hasn't eaten him yet. that must mean he is doing a really good job.
his toyhouse

Comments 12

    • Clarence nodded in acceptance of the apology and frowned.
      "Oh, did I scare you? I- I didn't mean to, fear is a horrid feeling." Clarence pressed his paws together while twiddling his fingers(??). Odd that he would feel guilt for accidentally scaring someone but not for gutting someone. Ah, feeling is such a bittersweet and strange thing. he wondered if he could rid himself of such feelings.
      " So... You have three eyes... I uh have an acquaintance that has one more eye than you... " Clarence mumbled in an attempt to soothe the jackal.

    • Wisteria nodded when Clarance mentioned that the moth would be the only insect he would stuff for a while, but took a step back when the Manokit snapped at him. Clarence must have noticed his sneering, although Wisteria had no idea how. "Ah, my bad," he mumbled, wringing his paws. Only his third eye bothered to make eye contact, but Wisteria doubted that such a detail even mattered, since Clarence's eyes were always closed anyways. "Yes, that was rude of me. I shouldn't mock the conditions which have made you this way. My apologies." Clarence seemed to be 'staring' at him again. Was it because the Manokit was annoyed with him? The black line of fur along the jackal's spine began to prickle up.

    • Wisteria peaked over Clarence's shoulder, tipping his head to the side when all that he could see on the paper was a moth with a spigot sticking out of it. "Yes, many insects are quite frail creatures," Wisteria agreed, running his tongue over his fangs. "That's what makes them so fun to eat, the crunch of their limbs -- especially after they've been fried -- is hard to replicate! Although I can see how that would make it difficult to stuff them, I've only ever stuffed moths made entirely out of fabric." Wisteria sneered when Clarence mentioned that he might be a bit of a doormat. That certainly seemed plausible, given that he was a butler serving under a quite cruel heiress. And with the rumors of Joey's brutality circulating about the village despite Rain's efforts to silence them, Wisteria could only imagine what the heiress had done to beat (perhaps quite literally) Clarence into submission and compliance.

    • Wisteria's fluffy tail mostly ceased its agitated swishing once the knife disappeared from sight. "Truth be told, I have no qualms with knives, or guts and gore," the jackal spoke up, gesturing to his zipped-up stomach. Wouldn't it be silly if he was afraid of gore, since he was made to be a living plush that could have experiments performed on him without getting hurt? "I just don't like to entertain the prospect of knives being used on me. Sure, I can always stitch myself up again, but the only person I'd even think to let cut me open is the witch who created me." Wisteria's ears perked up in interest as the paper came into view, and he took a step towards Clarence to peak at its contents. A small "Oh?" came out of his mouth.

    • "Stuff me?" Wisteria repeated, narrowing his eyes as he cautiously took a step back. His tail began to lash as he protectively held his paws in front of his zipper. "I am already stuffed enough, thank you very much. I really don't think you need to be holding out that knife" Wisteria was silent for a moment as he stared at Clarence. Even if Clarence was going to stuff him, which Wisteria was definitely not going to let happen, there was really no need for the knife. Wisteria could just simply unzip his stomach and place stuff in there. But of course, Clarence could also mean something else. And speaking of the Manokit, the jackal wasn't opposed to talking to him more, but the knife was making the living plush a bit uneasy.

    • Wisteria hesitated for a moment before nodding. He sensed that the Manokit didn't want him to leave, or not just yet at least. Wisteria continued to ponder what could have gotten Clarence so worked up about. Maybe it was then drops of blood? The Manokit was dressed akin to a butler of some sort. Wisteria slowly moved his tail to cover up the drying drops of blood that had spilled from his stomach. But of course, that wouldn't do, the plush jackal still had to be sure of the reason. "But if I may ask, why do you feel faint?" he continued, slowly and cautiously.

    • Wisteria's ears perked as he listened to what Clarence had to say about the hat. "Well, I certainly haven't heard of any article of clothing doing those sort of things before," he mumbled. He watched the Manokit set down the platter and hold his paws against his chest, and Wisteria could almost hear the pounding of a rapidly beating heart. The jackal knew that Clarence must be getting worked up over something, but what? "Um, are you alright? Is something the matter?" he prodded, wondering if he should take his leave.

    • "A living hat?" Wisteria raised the eyebrows for his left and middle eye, his right eye scrunching up. "Well, I am quite perplexed as to how that could occur, seeing as the only living plushies I've ever seen actually have a functional body, but I guess a living hat isn't impossible." Wisteria noticed that Clarence's breathing had sped up slightly, despite that the Manokit seemed to have calmed down.

    • (Rip in pieces)
      Wisteria didn't seem off-put by the Manokit's rather disturbing reaction to the quip. He absentmindedly scratched at his chest, and the zipper that kept his guts from falling out moved down ever so slightly. A couple drips of dark green blood fell on the floor before Wisteria took notice and quickly brought the zipper all the way back up. He didn't need to deal with a mess right now, which would certainly happen if the zipper fell too low and his entrails spilled out. "Well, to put it simply, I'm a plush jackal brought to life by a witch," he stated with a shrug.

    • "Taxidermy is such a peculiar hobby, isn't it? I prefer sewing inorganic fabric to make plush animals, but I must admit that taking something dead and stuffing it with something other than its own rotten guts does have quite the charm to it."

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