Normal. That's all she wants. It would be everything not to be afraid of being seen, when she sees all. She knows the secrets of those who push her face to the ground, and the tales of every modern day villain. Every crime committed, every lie spread as a disease, she knows. And despite all of this, Clover can't help but feel helpless. God, she's always hated that name. Before everything went to shit she learned what it meant by her father, if you could even call him that. "Key..." she mutters to herself from her place on the ground. It's warm beneath her. So warm in fact, it would burn anyone alive enough to feel it. How the hell did she end up in...well... Hell?