Hi, I'm Anders. I like wreaking havoc in TTRPGs and listening to Swedish Death Metal. I currently am in the process of starting a campaign, GMed by your's truly. Entombed is a great band, you should check 'em out.
*Cut for Dutch* One of the Charlies steps inbetween the man, shielding him from the monster. The other two rush the Slink and tear into him with their bats, beating on it from two sides.
The Slink falls down, bloodied and presumably dead. The other man runs away, a look of terror in his eyes. 'You did good there. My gun jammed, that was all your work. You killed the Slink, my life's work. And I couldn't be happier for you'
Iago joins the Charlies on the lower floor with the vat, pulling a lever to empty the tank and drain away the evidence. In seconds, the body of the Slink has disappeared down into the pipes below. 'Well, we won't be seeing him again. Now, let's get out of here'
*No dropped Artefacts?* He watches the monster get flushed, “You shot at him too, dude. I didn’t stand alone.” All four Charlies walk so close that you’d think they’d crash into each other but instead they merge together becoming one. Roadkill Charlie’s hair is no longer pink though, it is bleached blonde.
*hah, nope*
'Nice new hairstyle. I guess I'd better change my look too. After all, the Slink is dead, my hunting days are over. I won't be needing this anymore'
Iago, for the first time since he has met anyone in Balios, begins to unzip his protective suit. Underneath is a crisp white tuxedo. And underneath the bulky visor, Charlie can now see the face of a normal-looking man, maybe in his early thirties, though it is difficult to tell. His dark hair is well-combed, and his stubble is shaved into a meticulous goatee beard. From his features, one might guess he was Italian-American, though again, it is difficult to tell. From the pocket of his jacket, he produces a pair of red aviators, putting them onto his face. 'You did good there, yes. Exactly what I could have wanted. And no, my gun jammed. It was all down to you'
*I see. Also the profile pic change was perfectly timed.* Roadkill Charlie stops and watches with narrowed eyes. “Your hunting days are over, huh? Sure looks like it. I guess the Slink is gone. Sure looks like that too.” He says in a strange tone.
*Totally not on purpose lol*
'Something the matter? You should be proud of yourself. In fact, how about a little celebration?' Iago hands Charlie a small white envelope containing an invitation to a party. 'You've earned it.'
“Not a thing.” He smiles and opens the envelope, “I do love a good party. I’ll be there.
*Idea: Nightmare of Poor Health, created by health advice on the internet and magazines, finally animated by the advent of Google. It would be an overwhelmingly powerful Nightmare, effectively a Nightmare God with powers related to the human body, poor nutrition, injury, and plague.*
*He works at a Waffle House.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Cut for Dutch* One of the Charlies steps inbetween the man, shielding him from the monster. The other two rush the Slink and tear into him with their bats, beating on it from two sides.
The Slink falls down, bloodied and presumably dead. The other man runs away, a look of terror in his eyes. 'You did good there. My gun jammed, that was all your work. You killed the Slink, my life's work. And I couldn't be happier for you'
Iago joins the Charlies on the lower floor with the vat, pulling a lever to empty the tank and drain away the evidence. In seconds, the body of the Slink has disappeared down into the pipes below. 'Well, we won't be seeing him again. Now, let's get out of here'
*No dropped Artefacts?* He watches the monster get flushed, “You shot at him too, dude. I didn’t stand alone.” All four Charlies walk so close that you’d think they’d crash into each other but instead they merge together becoming one. Roadkill Charlie’s hair is no longer pink though, it is bleached blonde.
*hah, nope*
'Nice new hairstyle. I guess I'd better change my look too. After all, the Slink is dead, my hunting days are over. I won't be needing this anymore'
Iago, for the first time since he has met anyone in Balios, begins to unzip his protective suit. Underneath is a crisp white tuxedo. And underneath the bulky visor, Charlie can now see the face of a normal-looking man, maybe in his early thirties, though it is difficult to tell. His dark hair is well-combed, and his stubble is shaved into a meticulous goatee beard. From his features, one might guess he was Italian-American, though again, it is difficult to tell. From the pocket of his jacket, he produces a pair of red aviators, putting them onto his face. 'You did good there, yes. Exactly what I could have wanted. And no, my gun jammed. It was all down to you'
*I see. Also the profile pic change was perfectly timed.* Roadkill Charlie stops and watches with narrowed eyes. “Your hunting days are over, huh? Sure looks like it. I guess the Slink is gone. Sure looks like that too.” He says in a strange tone.
*Totally not on purpose lol*
'Something the matter? You should be proud of yourself. In fact, how about a little celebration?' Iago hands Charlie a small white envelope containing an invitation to a party. 'You've earned it.'
“Not a thing.” He smiles and opens the envelope, “I do love a good party. I’ll be there.
'That's great. It's been a pleasure working alongside you.'
*How much does Charlie know? Is he aware that Iago is dodgy?*
*Idea: Nightmare of Poor Health, created by health advice on the internet and magazines, finally animated by the advent of Google. It would be an overwhelmingly powerful Nightmare, effectively a Nightmare God with powers related to the human body, poor nutrition, injury, and plague.*
*He works at a Waffle House.*
*Nightmare of violence also works at the same Waffle House, not as strong, but definitely more dangerous in direct confrontation.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
*Idea: Nightmare of Poor Health, created by health advice on the internet and magazines, finally animated by the advent of Google. It would be an overwhelmingly powerful Nightmare, effectively a Nightmare God with powers related to the human body, poor nutrition, injury, and plague.*
*He works at a Waffle House.*
*That would be brilliant! I might be playing a Nightmare who tricks and tempts people into releasing their dark side*
*Idea: Nightmare of Poor Health, created by health advice on the internet and magazines, finally animated by the advent of Google. It would be an overwhelmingly powerful Nightmare, effectively a Nightmare God with powers related to the human body, poor nutrition, injury, and plague.*
*He works at a Waffle House.*
*Nightmare of violence also works at the same Waffle House, not as strong, but definitely more dangerous in direct confrontation.*
*An ally, perhaps?*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Idea: Nightmare of Poor Health, created by health advice on the internet and magazines, finally animated by the advent of Google. It would be an overwhelmingly powerful Nightmare, effectively a Nightmare God with powers related to the human body, poor nutrition, injury, and plague.*
*He works at a Waffle House.*
*Sounds pretty awesome. And I love that he works at Waffle House.*
"Can you hear them childe? The sound of the war horns? the thunderous hooves of the horses? the cries of men as they fall on the battlefield?"
"Sire?... What do you mean?"
"... Nothing, my memories brought me back to a time of darkness."
In town, upon the back of a horse with hide like coffee, a knight approaches. He wears corroded armor, made of coppery and bronze metals that have turned green over time. His helmet resembles a bird's face, dotted with holes along the beak. He wears a large tapestry as a cloak, the back expertly stitched with an image depicting a screaming eagle with a head in its claws. Wisps of black smoke seem to escape from the holes in his beaked helmet, dissipating into the air as he rides.
By his side, riding on a horse as well is a young lad. He wears a hooded cloak that covers his face in shadow, the cloak torn but still usable. Barely the line of his jaw can be made out from under the hood, but the rest is hidden under the veil of darkness. He wears leather armor, though it looks fairly worn from age.
The two eventually make it to the edge of town and dismount from their horses. The young lad grabbed a large sack from his horse's saddlebags, checking through it before walking over to his mentor. The knight pats his horse's neck, silently thanking it before both horses seem to dissipate into smoke. The young lad tugs on his mentor's belt strap around his waist to gain his attention.
"Sire? Is this the place? Will they welcome us here?" He askes.
The knight looks at the town for a moment, thinking, before turning his head to his apprentice and nods.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
*Cut for Dutch* One of the Charlies steps inbetween the man, shielding him from the monster. The other two rush the Slink and tear into him with their bats, beating on it from two sides.
The Slink falls down, bloodied and presumably dead. The other man runs away, a look of terror in his eyes. 'You did good there. My gun jammed, that was all your work. You killed the Slink, my life's work. And I couldn't be happier for you'
Iago joins the Charlies on the lower floor with the vat, pulling a lever to empty the tank and drain away the evidence. In seconds, the body of the Slink has disappeared down into the pipes below. 'Well, we won't be seeing him again. Now, let's get out of here'
*No dropped Artefacts?* He watches the monster get flushed, “You shot at him too, dude. I didn’t stand alone.” All four Charlies walk so close that you’d think they’d crash into each other but instead they merge together becoming one. Roadkill Charlie’s hair is no longer pink though, it is bleached blonde.
*hah, nope*
'Nice new hairstyle. I guess I'd better change my look too. After all, the Slink is dead, my hunting days are over. I won't be needing this anymore'
Iago, for the first time since he has met anyone in Balios, begins to unzip his protective suit. Underneath is a crisp white tuxedo. And underneath the bulky visor, Charlie can now see the face of a normal-looking man, maybe in his early thirties, though it is difficult to tell. His dark hair is well-combed, and his stubble is shaved into a meticulous goatee beard. From his features, one might guess he was Italian-American, though again, it is difficult to tell. From the pocket of his jacket, he produces a pair of red aviators, putting them onto his face. 'You did good there, yes. Exactly what I could have wanted. And no, my gun jammed. It was all down to you'
*I see. Also the profile pic change was perfectly timed.* Roadkill Charlie stops and watches with narrowed eyes. “Your hunting days are over, huh? Sure looks like it. I guess the Slink is gone. Sure looks like that too.” He says in a strange tone.
*Totally not on purpose lol*
'Something the matter? You should be proud of yourself. In fact, how about a little celebration?' Iago hands Charlie a small white envelope containing an invitation to a party. 'You've earned it.'
“Not a thing.” He smiles and opens the envelope, “I do love a good party. I’ll be there.
'That's great. It's been a pleasure working alongside you.'
*How much does Charlie know? Is he aware that Iago is dodgy?*
*Super dodgy. Anyone in a suit is dodgy to this punk already. And he isn’t completely sure the Slink is dead. So his interest is peaked. Also when and where is the party from the invitation?* ”Sure has. See you around Iago.” He wipes some black blood from his bat onto his pant legs and heads back to his car.
*Idea: Nightmare of Poor Health, created by health advice on the internet and magazines, finally animated by the advent of Google. It would be an overwhelmingly powerful Nightmare, effectively a Nightmare God with powers related to the human body, poor nutrition, injury, and plague.*
*He works at a Waffle House.*
*Nightmare of violence also works at the same Waffle House, not as strong, but definitely more dangerous in direct confrontation.*
*An ally, perhaps?*
*I'm already thinking up what they may look like, gonna take transpiration from the Violence devil from Chainsaw man, Shinji from Bleach, and maybe Bane from Batman, or Moon Knight.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
"Can you hear them childe? The sound of the war horns? the thunderous hooves of the horses? the cries of men as they fall on the battlefield?"
"Sire?... What do you mean?"
"... Nothing, my memories brought me back to a time of darkness."
In town, upon the back of a horse with hide like coffee, a knight approaches. He wears corroded armor, made of coppery and bronze metals that have turned green over time. His helmet resembles a bird's face, dotted with holes along the beak. He wears a large tapestry as a cloak, the back expertly stitched with an image depicting a screaming eagle with a head in its claws. Wisps of black smoke seem to escape from the holes in his beaked helmet, dissipating into the air as he rides.
By his side, riding on a horse as well is a young lad. He wears a hooded cloak that covers his face in shadow, the cloak torn but still usable. Barely the line of his jaw can be made out from under the hood, but the rest is hidden under the veil of darkness. He wears leather armor, though it looks fairly worn from age.
The two eventually make it to the edge of town and dismount from their horses. The young lad grabbed a large sack from his horse's saddlebags, checking through it before walking over to his mentor. The knight pats his horse's neck, silently thanking it before both horses seem to dissipate into smoke. The young lad tugs on his mentor's belt strap around his waist to gain his attention.
"Sire? Is this the place? Will they welcome us here?" He askes.
The knight looks at the town for a moment, thinking, before turning his head to his apprentice and nods.
A punk with wild, bleached blonde hair watches from short distance away. He wears a black jacket with spiked pads, torn jeans and fingerless gloves. “Sweet ride!” He calls out.
"Can you hear them childe? The sound of the war horns? the thunderous hooves of the horses? the cries of men as they fall on the battlefield?"
"Sire?... What do you mean?"
"... Nothing, my memories brought me back to a time of darkness."
In town, upon the back of a horse with hide like coffee, a knight approaches. He wears corroded armor, made of coppery and bronze metals that have turned green over time. His helmet resembles a bird's face, dotted with holes along the beak. He wears a large tapestry as a cloak, the back expertly stitched with an image depicting a screaming eagle with a head in its claws. Wisps of black smoke seem to escape from the holes in his beaked helmet, dissipating into the air as he rides.
By his side, riding on a horse as well is a young lad. He wears a hooded cloak that covers his face in shadow, the cloak torn but still usable. Barely the line of his jaw can be made out from under the hood, but the rest is hidden under the veil of darkness. He wears leather armor, though it looks fairly worn from age.
The two eventually make it to the edge of town and dismount from their horses. The young lad grabbed a large sack from his horse's saddlebags, checking through it before walking over to his mentor. The knight pats his horse's neck, silently thanking it before both horses seem to dissipate into smoke. The young lad tugs on his mentor's belt strap around his waist to gain his attention.
"Sire? Is this the place? Will they welcome us here?" He askes.
The knight looks at the town for a moment, thinking, before turning his head to his apprentice and nods.
A punk with wild, bleached blonde hair watches from short distance away. He wears a black jacket with spiked pads, torn jeans and fingerless gloves. “Sweet ride!” He calls out.
The knight looks up, the black smoke following his movement like a swarm of flies. He tilts his head but gives a two-fingered salute in response. The apprentice bounces on their heels, waving in a friendly manner.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
*I wanna draw the three Nightmare Lords standing next to each other in human guise, from a worm's-eye view. Amatarou would be crouching, the Mother of Puppets would be standing half-shadowed with her arms crossed (I imagine it looking a little like Makima), and the Queen of the Fair would be jumping along with her arms spread, possibly with the silhouettes of birds overhead and a black cat around Ocha's feet.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Can you hear them childe? The sound of the war horns? the thunderous hooves of the horses? the cries of men as they fall on the battlefield?"
"Sire?... What do you mean?"
"... Nothing, my memories brought me back to a time of darkness."
In town, upon the back of a horse with hide like coffee, a knight approaches. He wears corroded armor, made of coppery and bronze metals that have turned green over time. His helmet resembles a bird's face, dotted with holes along the beak. He wears a large tapestry as a cloak, the back expertly stitched with an image depicting a screaming eagle with a head in its claws. Wisps of black smoke seem to escape from the holes in his beaked helmet, dissipating into the air as he rides.
By his side, riding on a horse as well is a young lad. He wears a hooded cloak that covers his face in shadow, the cloak torn but still usable. Barely the line of his jaw can be made out from under the hood, but the rest is hidden under the veil of darkness. He wears leather armor, though it looks fairly worn from age.
The two eventually make it to the edge of town and dismount from their horses. The young lad grabbed a large sack from his horse's saddlebags, checking through it before walking over to his mentor. The knight pats his horse's neck, silently thanking it before both horses seem to dissipate into smoke. The young lad tugs on his mentor's belt strap around his waist to gain his attention.
"Sire? Is this the place? Will they welcome us here?" He askes.
The knight looks at the town for a moment, thinking, before turning his head to his apprentice and nods.
A punk with wild, bleached blonde hair watches from short distance away. He wears a black jacket with spiked pads, torn jeans and fingerless gloves. “Sweet ride!” He calls out.
The knight looks up, the black smoke following his movement like a swarm of flies. He tilts his head but gives a two-fingered salute in response. The apprentice bounces on their heels, waving in a friendly manner.
*Sorry, I’m going to be off and on.* ”You don’t look like you’re from around here.” says the punk, approaching you. “Or from anywhere near here.”
*I've decided what the violence Nightmare is going to look like, a worn scarecrow, a straw man, and a big one at that when he needs to get violent. He grows in size, though it takes some effort. He's a broken being, sadistic because its the only thing he was created to know. Kind of like Conquest from Invincible in that way. Don't know what else I'll do just yet.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
Amatarou is wearing his cat-themed mask (like a fabric COVID mask), standing over an NEO agent on the floor of the back alley. The rain washes the blood off his clear plastic gloves as he holds out his arms to his sides, an overlarge knife in his hands. His eyes are dilated, staring up into the rain as he breathes heavily. He closes his eyes and starts to slowly turn round and round in place. You can practically hear the reverie just watching him.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Amatarou is wearing his cat-themed mask (like a fabric COVID mask), standing over an NEO agent on the floor of the back alley. The rain washes the blood off his clear plastic gloves as he holds out his arms to his sides, an overlarge knife in his hands. His eyes are dilated, staring up into the rain as he breathes heavily. He closes his eyes and starts to slowly turn round and round in place. You can practically hear the reverie just watching him.
You turn round and round and round. And then there appears during one of your revolutions a flash of bleach blonde hair in the night over the glitter of three, spiked nose rings which shine like rebellious stars over a smirking mouth.
'That makes sense. In regards to the supernatural, I can help you navigate'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
"That would be great, thank you"
Hi, I'm Anders. I like wreaking havoc in TTRPGs and listening to Swedish Death Metal. I currently am in the process of starting a campaign, GMed by your's truly. Entombed is a great band, you should check 'em out.
Peace, love, and death metal my friends
-Anders
'Brilliant. I'm glad that you are able to trust me. My name is Iago'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
“Not a thing.” He smiles and opens the envelope, “I do love a good party. I’ll be there.
*Idea: Nightmare of Poor Health, created by health advice on the internet and magazines, finally animated by the advent of Google. It would be an overwhelmingly powerful Nightmare, effectively a Nightmare God with powers related to the human body, poor nutrition, injury, and plague.*
*He works at a Waffle House.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
'That's great. It's been a pleasure working alongside you.'
*How much does Charlie know? Is he aware that Iago is dodgy?*
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
*Nightmare of violence also works at the same Waffle House, not as strong, but definitely more dangerous in direct confrontation.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*That would be brilliant! I might be playing a Nightmare who tricks and tempts people into releasing their dark side*
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
*An ally, perhaps?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Sounds pretty awesome. And I love that he works at Waffle House.*
In town, upon the back of a horse with hide like coffee, a knight approaches. He wears corroded armor, made of coppery and bronze metals that have turned green over time. His helmet resembles a bird's face, dotted with holes along the beak. He wears a large tapestry as a cloak, the back expertly stitched with an image depicting a screaming eagle with a head in its claws. Wisps of black smoke seem to escape from the holes in his beaked helmet, dissipating into the air as he rides.
By his side, riding on a horse as well is a young lad. He wears a hooded cloak that covers his face in shadow, the cloak torn but still usable. Barely the line of his jaw can be made out from under the hood, but the rest is hidden under the veil of darkness. He wears leather armor, though it looks fairly worn from age.
The two eventually make it to the edge of town and dismount from their horses. The young lad grabbed a large sack from his horse's saddlebags, checking through it before walking over to his mentor. The knight pats his horse's neck, silently thanking it before both horses seem to dissipate into smoke. The young lad tugs on his mentor's belt strap around his waist to gain his attention.
"Sire? Is this the place? Will they welcome us here?" He askes.
The knight looks at the town for a moment, thinking, before turning his head to his apprentice and nods.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*Super dodgy. Anyone in a suit is dodgy to this punk already. And he isn’t completely sure the Slink is dead. So his interest is peaked. Also when and where is the party from the invitation?*
”Sure has. See you around Iago.” He wipes some black blood from his bat onto his pant legs and heads back to his car.
*I'm already thinking up what they may look like, gonna take transpiration from the Violence devil from Chainsaw man, Shinji from Bleach, and maybe Bane from Batman, or Moon Knight.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
A punk with wild, bleached blonde hair watches from short distance away. He wears a black jacket with spiked pads, torn jeans and fingerless gloves. “Sweet ride!” He calls out.
The knight looks up, the black smoke following his movement like a swarm of flies. He tilts his head but gives a two-fingered salute in response. The apprentice bounces on their heels, waving in a friendly manner.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*I wanna draw the three Nightmare Lords standing next to each other in human guise, from a worm's-eye view. Amatarou would be crouching, the Mother of Puppets would be standing half-shadowed with her arms crossed (I imagine it looking a little like Makima), and the Queen of the Fair would be jumping along with her arms spread, possibly with the silhouettes of birds overhead and a black cat around Ocha's feet.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Sorry, I’m going to be off and on.*
”You don’t look like you’re from around here.” says the punk, approaching you. “Or from anywhere near here.”
*I've decided what the violence Nightmare is going to look like, a worn scarecrow, a straw man, and a big one at that when he needs to get violent. He grows in size, though it takes some effort. He's a broken being, sadistic because its the only thing he was created to know. Kind of like Conquest from Invincible in that way. Don't know what else I'll do just yet.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
It is a nice, stormy evening.
Amatarou is wearing his cat-themed mask (like a fabric COVID mask), standing over an NEO agent on the floor of the back alley. The rain washes the blood off his clear plastic gloves as he holds out his arms to his sides, an overlarge knife in his hands. His eyes are dilated, staring up into the rain as he breathes heavily. He closes his eyes and starts to slowly turn round and round in place. You can practically hear the reverie just watching him.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
You turn round and round and round. And then there appears during one of your revolutions a flash of bleach blonde hair in the night over the glitter of three, spiked nose rings which shine like rebellious stars over a smirking mouth.