Some trash ship Dead by Daylight art, I dunno I love them, don't fight me on this

The initial paper sketch

curSE YOU… you knOW I CAN’t REFUSE A CHALLENGE… I’M A WHORE FOR PROVING PEOPLE WRONG. ..

DBD / Slasher ShortKenneth Chase / The ClownPrompt: Fluff

“You’re a good boy!” You cooed, gently sliding your palm across the animal’s snout. Maurice nickered softly, pushing his nose into your fingers to meet your grasp. People could say what they wanted about Kenneth and his realm, but you liked it here. The Clown had never done anything unwarranted to you (at least, not out of a trial). In fact, he’d been… Hospitable. He let you come to his caravan; he let you spend time with his beloved horse.

Ken never said much. He’d give you a lazy nod of greeting and tip his drink in your direction, but that was all. He never bothered you. 

The Clown was sat on the top stair of his caravan, the chipped door swung open and letting the brewing scent of his tonics drift into the run-down fair. You could hear the distant sounds of jingling machinery and fairground music dancing across the wind. Maurice; the poor, rotting horse, was stuck on the ground. Legs too weak to hold him, he was confined to lie there. You could see the regret in Kenneth’s eyes every time he glanced over; you knew he loved the animal. You knew it. 

“He’s not hurtin’,” Ken finally grumbles to you. You look up to find the man’s eyes settled on you. He looks exhausted, slumped on that step and tiredly watching you befriend his horse. He nods in the vague direction of the innards of the caravan, “made some tonic. Can’t walk, but… He ain’t hurtin.”

You paused, directing your attention back to the poor thing. He looked like he’d seen better days, for sure. The sight of him tugged deeply at your heartstrings, and you knew it was killing Kenneth himself. You could hear Ken choking on his own breath as he tried to force down another few swigs of whatever it was he was drowning himself in. 

The stairs of the caravan creaked. A shadow loomed over your body, and you glanced up just in time to feel two thick hands clamp around your waist. You forget how fast he was. Panic shot through you for a second as he so easily hauled you up into the air, and you felt your feet meet the air. You thought, for a moment, he’d grown tired of your lingering. 

Kenneth set you down on the back of the horse and carefully let go of you. You ground your feet into the dirt and gripped loosely onto Maurice’s greasy, mane (or at least, what was left of it), and looked up to the man in curiosity. He was still there, standing over you. “He likes you,” the Clown nods. You feel his thick, bandages fingers tangle in your hair as he gives you an affectionate pat. 

There’s a trace of a smile quirking at his lips. The garish make-up that stains his skin pulls into an expression that almost looks happy for a change. You grin at him. You see a fond flicker in his eyes as he laughs quietly to himself, coughing lightly into his fist before he nods at you and lumbers back to his place on the step. 

Give my muse three fears you think they have, and they will order them from what scares them the least to what scares them the most.

Least scared would have to be clowns, Kenneth is an alright guy if you don’t react negatively to his finger collection. Its a bit weird honestly but I think he finds my obsession with flames even more bizarre. It’s clear from how well the survivors usually loop Kenneth, they don’t really fear him. The experienced survivors will always make him feel bad at the end.

Middle would have to be failing. I’ve failed pretty hard my whole life, like each turn was the wrong choice so I’ve gotten use to the feeling of being a failure.

Good question..

In order to showcase this one better I brought in Kenneth to show how exactly tall I am.. Sadly Kenneth does not do anything for free so I owe him one now.