#faceguard

[jrueships]

Stef headbutting (bunting) Josh every five seconds and josh just letting him

[knickknacksandallthat]

need you to know that @ your last ask i immediately imagined kevin and jeremy meeting at their starting position after an exciting play, kevin leaning down to do a gentle helmet tap with jeremy as a "good job babe" gesture

omg anon YES 😍 - he can't help it, ESP when they're all out on the court together. (Ahem...and crushing his former teams into dust.) He's gotta let his boys know just how good they are. Gentle helmet tap for the win 🙌

(And can we hc Jeremy smacking his butt back? bc 100% happened, no doubt 🍑)

[imunbreakabledude]

listen i'm not MAD that my log looks like this at 150kc... i'm just starting to grow apprehensive of like 2k kills for a blowpipe after this start lol

[batchilla]

Fata Morgana Chapter Two - A Dance Earned

Content warnings of violence, death, and outdated views on women.

Sweat drips down Jason's nose, and his breathing is laboured. He cannot wipe it away, not without lifting the faceguard of his helmet. So, he lives with the discomfort, the sting of sweat in his eyes, the stink of it within his metal suit. His arms, one holding his sword, the other bearing a shield strapped to his forearm, ache. His head is pounding. His heart feels as if it may explode with how fast it beats.

He adjusts the grip of his sword to refocus himself. In the edge of his vision, tied to its hilt, the princess ribbon flutters gently in the breeze.

Centred, and reminded of his reasons, Jason levels his sword, and charges to meet his opponent.

The man’s name escaped him - it had been a long day. However his green heraldry told Jason the man likely serves the Queen family. Formidable archers were plentiful in their barracks. It was likely the bow he held had carried him to the final round more than the shortsword at his side. So, Jason would make it his priority to close distance, to force him to rely on melee skill.

He strikes out, his sword colliding with the breastplate of the other, trying to unbalance him, sending a loud clang of metal on metal, almost lost in the cheers of the crowd.

His opponent hurriedly drops the bow, draws his sword and hits back, making Jason grunt as he feels the opponent's sword collide with his dominant arm.

Jason isn’t so easily distracted though, he had fought far too many more deadly foes to drop his blade or allow pain to distract him in the heat of battle. He takes his shield, slamming it into his opponent's chest, sending the man colliding with the ground.

His victory is swift and definitive over the green clad man. In a real battle, he would have ended the lesser warrior with ease. It would be so easy. Something in his blood urges him to do it. A ruthless instinct that had kept him alive thus far. He puts the point of his blade to the defeated’s throat.

The roar of the crowd fades out. Morphs and twists into the screams of battle. Of that battle. Of the fields of Arkham. His grip tightens on his sword, and he looks down, not at the Starling knight, but at the face of a boy. He holds a pike, and wears leather armour that will do little to save him - that will not save him - that didn’t save him as Jason plunges his sword into his heart. He hears the boy cry, not a scream, a whimper. The last, trembling word that leaves his lips as he dies is a call for his mother. He looks up, to a field of bodies. A battle won at last, an enemy army slain… The field of battle soaked in blood, the smell of death mingling with the ocean air. And in this moment he knows himself a monster.

Reality fades back in, and Jason is not looking at the seaside battleground of Arkham, but looking up at the royal box. At her. At his Princess. The princess, he reminds himself - not his.

She looks … beautiful. She always does, in his humble opinion. Today, however, he feels his breath catch at the mere sight of her.

She’s worn red. But not just any red, his red. The same velvet fabric as the ribbon tied to his sword - surely something she had done deliberately. She had planned this for him. He gulps, grateful that no one can see his expression due to his faceguard.

Her gaze trails down to his opponent, still laid on the dust. Yes. Right. The other knight.

“Yield.” Jason demands, his arm flexing as he ever so slightly presses the sword in further to make his point.

“I yield.” The other man says, a little too quickly. Jason sheaths his blade, and offers a hand to bring the man to his feet.

Jason takes a deep breath as he removes his helm, and locks eyes with her.

You are going to die.

It should be illegal, frankly, for Captain Todd-Wayne to look like that.

He offers his hand to his defeated opponent, and you near swoon. To see such an honourable act after witnessing him put the realms warriors to shame all morning near stops your heart.

His hair is stuck to his face with sweat, his face flushed with the effort of the fight. His chest, you imagine, is heaving under his plate. Mentally, you imagine that paired with his half tied shirt from the night before, and are forced to pull out your fan to cool your face.

Your lady in waiting, Lady Stephanie Brown, leans down to whisper in your ear over your shoulder. “Are you quite well, M’lady?”

“Hm? Ah. Yes. It is simply… the heat.”

“But of course.” She replies, in a tone that from anyone who wasn’t a dear, dear, friend, would have you asking if they were daring to imply your dishonesty.

“You there!” She calls to a servant “fetch the princesses parasol!”

Then, turning back to you, she whispers once more “The heat?”

She echos playfully. You swat her arm.

“Hush.” You chide, and in response she wiggles her eyebrows.

You watch Jason leaving the arena, watch him splash a ladle of water over his head from a nearby barrel, and doff his gauntlets to take from an adjudicator a plush pillow, on which rests the crown of roses.

You smooth your skirt and carefully arrange yourself to appear adequately surprised when he approaches. Certainly you knew that as much as your heart was his, that crown was yours - but it would not do well to be too obviously aware of his affections, nor display your own.

Sure enough, you watch as he approaches, bowing deeply to your Father, your Mother, your younger brother, and finally, you.

Jason lifts out of his bow, meeting her eyes and trying not to appear as nervous as he felt.

He knew, of course she would not deny him.

It was testament to her charity that she indulged his annual request, similar to giving alms. A single moment where he could pretend he stood a chance at being anything more than her guard dog.

He knows that should you not wish to allow him this, you would not have given him a favour. Still, his hands, hands that have ended countless lives, calloused and rough from a life of hard, violent labour in her fathers name, but for her sake, shake slightly as he takes the crown in hand.

“Your royal highness.” He holds the crown out, and she bows her head obligingly.

Jason places the roses among her locks, trying not to linger on the sensation of her hair under his fingers. She looks up at him, her eyes wide and so filled with…

Love. His soul whispers. Wishful thinking, he knows. Affection, perhaps. Fondness, even. But it would be prideful to the point of insanity to think she loved him. Certainly she looked at him as if she did… but it could not be. Surely.

He steps back, taking her in the sight of her in his crown, knowing that for a few minutes that evening, he would get to hold her in his arms.

The dress you’d laid out on the chaise for the ball tonight lays forgotten. Not Jason’s red - it would be too overt to wear such a colour twice in such swift succession. So, something close, but something that inspired innocence and femininity. You had risked much in sneaking away from the palace to his tent, much more in wearing his colours. Tonight, you must be the picture of what your father wished of you. Mindful, Demure, even.

You pace the length of your rooms as the sun sets, running a hand down your face in distress.

“And you are quite certain?” You ask, turning to Stephanie, who stands beside the gold coated four poster bed you’ve slept in since childhood.

“Do you think I would tell you this if I had doubts?” She counters, shaking her head. “My source is good. Your father has been made a… rather generous offer by the Earl Sionis in exchange for your hand. A significant portion of fertile farming land.”

You nod. You had always known it would be your fate to form a political alliance, since the birth of your brother had taken the kingdom from your grasp. You were not even particularly opposed. Many such marriages were tolerable, and realistically once your husband had his son, you would only need to see him on formal occasions, and enjoy a life free of strife and hard labour.

But Earl Sionis? You had heard nothing credible of course, at least to the courts. Only rumours. Only the claims of his survivors, few as they were. Chief amongst them, in your mind, being Stephanie. You knew not exactly what he had done. But mention of his name filled your closest friend with fear and that was enough for you to think the lowest of him despite being unintroduced.

Still, you understood at least the political mechanics of how the match came to be. In the divying of the spoils of Arkham the Sionis line had been richly rewarded. Rewards that may well have been due to Captain Todd-Wayne, had he not been thought dead. Between the peasants, lands, and spoils he had taken, the Earl would have resources enough to make your father amenable to the match.

You sigh, your shoulders falling in defeat, in helplessness. You feel Stephanie move closer, and her arms wrapping you up in a hug. “I’m so, so, sorry.”

She whispers in your ear as you allow yourself to rest your head on her shoulder, and take a deep, shaken breath to fight tears. It would not do well to be seen to have been crying, especially if you could not explain how you had come to know of your inevitable engagement. You take a hankie from your pocket and dab at your eyes.

“Fret not. I… I will be safe while my father lives. He will not risk the Kings ire. I have till his death to endear myself to him.” Your lie tastes of ash on your tongue. But Stephanie seems cautiously comforted by your words. You were, after all, a talented liar. You may well have been a talented mistress of whispers in another life.

This is not that life though, and rather than a mistress of whispers, you are a princess. A helpless, beautiful flower blown by the winds of fate. You are not a talented spy. You are property of the realm. Privileged and pampered property, though property all the same.

You take another, deeper breath and withdraw from Stephanie’s arms. “Well. I have a ball to prepare for and I daren’t be late. I presume the Earl is in attendance this eve?”

“He is.” she confirms, as you ring a bell to summon your handmaidens to help you dress.

“Well then, we must make an impression.”

You did wish to dazzle, of course, but not your potential husband. If this was your last chance to dance publicly with Captain Todd-Wayne? You intended to look your very best.

Jason was not a scared child. He was a seasoned warrior. He was not skulking. He was simply scouting the ballroom's perimeter. The rooms' grandeur, while beautiful, lead to many nooks and crannies for an assassin to take refuge in. He was most certainly not hiding from his adoptive father.

Take for instance the pillar he stood behind. 12 of them lined the walls of the ballroom, made of marble and polished till they shone. Anyone could be using them as cover. The polished tiles with their elaborate design and the way they made voices and footsteps echo and carry to create the most lively atmosphere could conceal whispered threats in their manufactured noise.

Technically he had the evening off. Though when it came to her safety, he refused to let the matter fall into another’s hands. Especially after West’s embarrassment last night, letting her escape. Honestly, she had never tried to flee his company, and couldn’t understand why his brothers in arms struggled so much in containing her.

She was a menace, more often than not. Take last night. He was a man of honour, or at least he would always portray himself as one in the presence of a lady. Perhaps a little less than honourable was that he had given the minstrials a heavy coinpurse to ensure the song that opened the ball was a long one. No harm was caused by his deception, but he felt a treacherous liar all the same.

He reluctantly steps out from behind the pillar, before anyone could dare to accuse him of anything so childish as avoiding the Duke. Besides, the royal family would soon be announced. Traditionally, she would enter with them, but as the crown of roses was hers, she would enter after, as tradition dictated.

Sure enough, The King, Queen, and the young Prince enter, and as he often does, Jason’s eyes rake the crowd, looking for any sign of an unordinary reaction from the gathered peerage. True he bore the King no particular fondness, but a threat to her family was a threat to her.

Jason observes the Earl, Roman Sionis, who uplifts his glass to the King in a smug gesture. It … was no crime. Nothing he did in public was. Nevertheless, it set his bones on edge. He didn’t care for the look in the Earl’s eyes. Then again, something about Roman Sionins had filled him, since his return, with great unease. Nothing the man had done seemed to earn this, beyond the many rumours… what Jason felt was more visceral. But a feeling alone is hardly grounds for an accusation if he did not have a crime.

But then, with an eruption of trumpets, your name is announced. Like a doomed sailor, Jason turns to her. She is his gravity. She is … his everything. She looks radiant. Her dress is a soft pink, like a sunrise, with white underskirts that shimmer ever so slightly as if made of woven starlight. She has worn the rose crown, and jewels fine enough to likely feed half the country for a week.

He moves towards her, A moth to a flame, he cannot look away as he extends a hand. She takes it, and Jason kisses the back of her hand, momentarily despising whichever handmaiden had put her gloves on this eve. “My lady.”

He whispers against the fabric of the glove. He rarely said it. Only when he forgot himself.

She smiles at him, and Jason … can’t help but to notice it doesn’t seem sincere. Well. Her performance of affection had been impressive thus far - he could hardly fault her if her facade wavered.

The nobility move back, clearing the dance floor as Jason leads her to its centre. He places a hand on his waist, the other behind his back. She places a hand on his right epaulette. She stands a slight distance from him, and Jason ignores the desire to pull her closer, flush against his starched black military uniform with it’s red sash and the array of medals pinned to his chest.

Jason guides you by your waist in a series of slow, sweeping circles, before taking your hand and spinning you, first away and then close. You have to stop yourself from colliding with him as you are pulled back by placing a hand on his chest. You feel him tense, which, unlike plate might, allows you to feel the raw strength he possesses. You breathe deeply. Now is not the time for depraved thoughts.

“You fought well today.” You whisper to him he takes your hand from his chest with the one that had been behind his back, lacing your fingers together as you move into a more traditional waltz around the room.

He shakes his head in self deprecation “I was… motivated, my lady.”

You try to fight your smile and your sorrow, which work in a strange dance of their own.

“I am only sorry that this shall be our last.”

Because it would be. While Captain Todd-Wayne was of high enough rank and respectable enough standing he could petition a space on your dance card at many a ball, he did not. Would not. For reasons unknown to you, despite your brazen affection for him, and his for you, you had danced only those four Fata Morganas. And now that was all there would be.

“What?” He asks, his voice pitching higher than you’d previously heard it. It was a risk to tell him, but you trusted in his ability to be discreet. He deserved to know, you figured, that this was in many ways goodbye.

“I suspect myself soon to be wed.” You admit, fighting to keep your voice appropriately light. You needn’t concern him with the worst of the news yet, needn’t ruin the night utterly. You feel his grip on you tighten, and see his expression become mournful.

“Well.” He says, his voice tight and forced.

“I suppose it was a day always on the horizon, Congratulations my- Your Royal Highness.”

You hear the music end, but can’t quite bring yourself to step away from him. Can’t look away from his eyes, the bluest, most beautiful in all the land, you were sure. Neither of you move as you look at each other, as you squeeze his hand back, and fight the desire to tell him you love him before the chance is lost to you forever.

You hesitate too long. Perhaps you will always regret it.

An imposing, stately man approaches. You have never met him, of course, but you know him at once. From his suit so fine it borders on the garish, to the smug and self confident smile on his face. Earl Sionis bows to you, seeming to ignore the Captain entirely.

He speaks your name in a manner far too familiar. He smiles, and speaks with the charm of a cat toying with a half dead mouse. “My Lady, your beauty was not exaggerated in the tales that reached me. Might I have the honour of your hand… For the next dance?”

The deliberate pause is not lost on you, though you pretend it is. He is goading his perceived rival, you figure.

A ridiculous notion. There is no rivalry. Captain Todd-Wayne… Jason, would win the contest for your heart with laughable ease.

But you are petals in the whirlwind of fate, and so you smile, and say you’d be delighted. You do not look back at Jason… Captain Todd-Wayne. It would surely kill you.

[theangrycomet-art]

trying out prime's art style with the duo I wish were explored more.

two halves of a whole idiot, ride or die besties

powerglide would still be a plane (by CHOICE)

this decicsion often gets him a lot crap but he doesn’t care

his face was badly clawed during a fight with Starscream,

ripped off the front half of his jaw & half-blinded his left optic. He keeps his faceguard/mask up to protect the remains of his face as well as make other people more comfortable (its' an admittedly unpleaant sight)

moonracer was recruited from Elita's squadron by Ultra Magnus for both her sharpshooting and her skills as morale officer

her go-to gun of choice is a Wheeljack original dubbed the Lunatic, custom made for her after her first successful mission with him

powerglide and moonracer were partners in the wreckers and were terrifyingly efficient between his dogfighting and her sharpshooting

she was not only the best 'bot one at shooting decepticons straight out of the sky, but she was also the only bot crazy enough willing to do it in the air with/on him

currently they are working on separate teams, but they each have a custom piece/tool made of the other's armor so that they "always can have each other's backs"

he has a small but powerful pistol with the range and targeting scope of nearly 5 miles

she has a grappling line with a hook with a grip that's been known to dig into even to the toughest of alloys

COMMISSIONS OPEN

[simverses]

TSM Knight Asymmetric Pauldrons Armor + Knight Helmet Faceguard, 2 versions

When going to war, or participating in jousting, a good and pretty armor is a must.

This set, with options for adult sims (male/female) and also kids and toddlers, protects your sims from bodily harm.

Converted from Sims Medieval, edited and adapted for Sims 4. Updated and improved, delete old version - I also added a toddler size. (Because cute. And some pages were young.)

Kids and toddler's versions get their textures from the adult male version. All merged in one file, if you want to edit or remerge, unmerge first.

TSM Knight Helmet Faceguard

A classic helmet with Faceguard function. Available for adult male and female sims. Base Game Compatible.

TSM Knight Helmet Faceguard Ponytail

The Faceguard helmet, but as a hat-hair with a ponytail attached. Available for both male and female adult sims.

This is a hat-hair and needs EP Growing Together to work.

This means that you add the crown in Hats section - and the hair comes with it. Hair color is added automagically, if you change the hair color of the sim, the hair color of this hat-hair will also change. It's not a method that suits all hats - and it only works if you have Growing Together (afaik). In the merged file there is a file called HairOverlay, and if you want to edit the hair colors, you do it in this file. The mesh for hair is in the hat file.

In the merged file the hair colors (24 EA swatches) are included, unmerge if youw ant to edit or remerge.

Download Knight Asymmetric Pauldrons Armor (Curseforge)

Download Knight Helmet Faceguard (Curseforge)

Download Knight Helmet Faceguard Ponytail (Hat-Hair) (Curseforge)

[ramavataramaart]

Woo finished the lines! Decided to keep the shoulders and faceguard as separate layers to make alt versions (and not decide on it after it was lined out and having to redo the chest lmao)

[bird-in-the-space]

Transformers oc Carina

(I wanted to try digital drawing after such a long time. I say not a bad result though the image here is kinda off)

Based on my headcanon The Siblings of Fate. This is Carina, cloned from Megatron's spark.

I wanted to try to draw her in Earthspark style, so this is an Earthspark version:

Carina and her siblings escaped their Quintesson masters after being thrown to Quintessa hunting grounds, where they were supposed to perish for the enjoyment of their masters. However, together they survived and fled to Earth where they found a home and a family who took them in.

Carina took her name after a star constellation after spending time star gazing with her human little brother.

Carina is calm-headed and cares a lot about her siblings, even though they sometimes get on her nerves. Due to her bulkier frame, she would throw herself first on the line in case of danger. Compared to her siblings, she's much introverted but shows patience and compassion when needed. She dreads and feels anxious about the Quintessons finding them again, thus causing her to be more cautious toward other transformers. Even after living on Earth for some years, she still suffers from nightmares during her time on the hunting grounds.

Her hobbies include reading different human novels--- her favorites being murder mysteries, sci-fi, and fantasy. This earns her the bookworm nickname in the family. She also enjoys watching wildlife, finding Earth's animals and nature fascinating. She even makes an effort to scare away unlicensed hunters or poachers who try their luck in hunting endangered animals.

She helps her human family at the farm by watching over the animals, feeding them, and caring for their well-being. She also helps with the hard work of fixing things.

Carina's favorite flowers are Forget-Me-Not, Violet, and Magnolia.

Carina is a triple-changer. She has both a ground-based form (a car) and an aerial-based form (a helicopter). She prefers using the latter as it allows her to observe things from a distance.

Carina's headpiece can switch down to be her faceguard in combat situations.

Carina's weapons include an energon-powered spear which she took as her primary weapon at the hunting grounds and a built-in energon-powered shield. Her only projectile weapon is the built-in rocket launcher on her back.

[199ninelives]

life is pain pain is want

get rid of pain by following the path

Aidan Zamiri created a series of masks based on protective sports faceguards and the severance of the ego

images and masks @aidanzamiri

styling, custom clothing and casting @dogstarmom worn by @alyseleah photo assistant @reeselayton

3D print @rvdimir

everything available to order via www.nuts.international

[srkizer]

speaking of kissing the robot. one show featured kissing as the method of reproducing, as in impregnating. it's nothing weird as it validly is a for all ages anime.

he fails at parenting but he still tries his best. he shall take getting scolded by his wife to his heart.

we still should quarantine him inside his universe, apply a half mask on him must him be called into other universes, or force him to put on his faceguard at all times. or, lips are too exposed of a body part and the same mistake™️ would happen.

[mercruwury]

leon kennedy w/ faceguard mask icons (i rarely use this accessory but i kind of like it ngl)

[marshmallow-biscuit-blog]

was looking at a mutual's posts and saw excalibur sonic topic and had to search for the ass cape (she and anon were right and I somehow never noticed lmfao) Anyways because of that I found Paladin Amy Rose-- and I gotta say, glad they made her a knight too for more modern stuff even if it's only for a mobile game

Girl put on a helmet/faceguard, the ear guards aren't cutting it. Love the new hammer weapon though. Anyways, love the design, and at least her cape doesn't come from her ass

[uokbti]

I talk about hockey?

Hi so lets ignore whatever the frick i posted last time and remember that i do more with my life than i realize because what the FRICK IS HAPPENING?

I love the way i feel when i play hockey. All of my anxiety suddenly disappearing when i get on my skates and hold the stick in my hands. Firstly- I don’t have all my equipment yet… let alone gloves- so i might get blisters from stickhandling BARE but its a good feeling…. Maybe similar to what people feel like at the gym idk lol. I also play with a fucking broken helmet because i lost my cool the day my glasses broke- my fault for playing with them, but yeah i dont even have a faceguard let alone a VISOR. SO essentially i am kinda going to battle with no armor BUT its a fun sport if you’re okay with the chances of breaking a bone everytime you play lol. Yesterday i cried because i missed team entries for the tournament because i was in the freaking HOSPITAL, so I don’t even know if im gonna play tbh- i cried harder than jack hughes at the beginning of his nhl draft. Also i can’t read that hockey boy ff stuff… idk it just irritates me so much. I also get irritated by people who “watch” nhl because the players are cute (same with formula1) like get out? Idk if theyre tryna have an icebreaker moment. No hate to icebreaker or hockey boy luvers but I can’t take it. Especially because i figure skate AND do hockey, like i am the entire trope itself and i guess its awkward in a way. Regardless of that i guess hockey isn’t the FIRST sport i would have chosen to do had i lived overseas, i would have wanted to seriously continue with figure skating but given the circumstances- hockey is the sport. I love both so much and i love my teammates, they’re super cool and i guess stay safe out there guys.

[quotablefanfiction]

His hair falls into his eyes without the faceguard to hold it back. It’s a little annoyance, in the scheme of things, but Tobirama can’t quite remember the last time something irritated him more.

the little things really get to Tobirama (chp. 1)

As Is the Sea Marvelous by blackkat (AO3) Naruto – Mature – Uchiha Madara/Senju Tobirama, Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Touka/Uchiha Izuna #Alternate Universe #Angst #Insecurity #Self-Sacrifice #Imprisonment #Fix-It #Brothers #Eventual Romance #Slow Build #Brief Abuse #Snark #Humor

Tobirama is willing to give absolutely anything for Hashirama and his dream.

[myrfing]

ugh i need to draw gourd with nails in his mouth and cutting a thread with his teeth and pulling up a blacksmith's faceguard and carving a small piece of driftwood and

[blazingstar29]

Bob the bronc rider

a drabble i wrote to follow up the head cannon post lol

-

Bob is unassuming. That's the first mistake the dagger squad makes about him. The second being he's not a thrill seeker. He is, they just assumed he's not. The thing is, you don't place your life in someone else's hands if you're not a little bit of an adrenaline junkie.

Surprisingly, it's Hangman that uncovers the truth. The truth being Bob is a thrill seeker in the least expected way. Prior to joining the Navy, Bob accumulated enough points as a teenager to earn his pro-rodeo card.

Bob is a bronc rider.

How does Hangman discover this little known fact about Bob? He runs into him of course.

"Bob?" He can't hide the shock from his voice. Bob turns around and Hangman's right, it's him. Contacts replace glasses, faceguard in hand ready to replace his aged stetson as soon as he steps up to the chute.

"Hangman," he says faintly trying to hide his own surprise. "What are you doing here?"

He waves a hand vaguely at the over side of the grandstand. "A buddy needed a header for roping. You ride broncs?"

Bob shrugs. "What, like it's any more dangerous than our job?"

--

later in the group chat

Hangman: Bob rides broncs

Rooster: English, please.

Coyote: What, like bucking horses

Hangman: YEAH

Rooster: And you know this how?

Hangman: HE WAS AT A RODEO I SAW HIM

Phoenix: Why are you so suprised? It's not like it's a big secret

Hangman: YOU KNOW

Phoenix: I know he did rodeos. we're friends dickhead

Hangman: BABY ON BOARD RIDES BUCKING HORSES AND NO ONES SURPRISED

Hangman: ITS BOB

Rooster: mav says he knew

Hangman: screw mav

Hangman was removed from the chat by Rooster

Hangman was added to the chat by Coyote