He giggles nearly childishly as he approaches the art work. The image a mix of black and white, a silhouetted man gouging at his insides. Red spills to display the blood a shocking contrast. Another nervous snicker separates the lips of a towering figure, taking out a length of chalk he draws a flower in the images hand, then scatters a series of stars and hearts over the blackness. Suspicious crimson eyes flicker about before he tucks the chalk away. Dusting the evidence from his hands.

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User: CircusOfTheDamned

Strangler can be seen standing next to the pictures painted of him, flexing, posing and taking autographs!

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"Let the world hear these words once more: Save us O'Lord from the wrath of the Norsemen!"

Responsible for FatPeopleAreHardToKidnap & ForTheVatican

*A black cloak drow rolls his red globes and mutters*

"More Gorthod clones, great."

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I keels u with my axe!

"Do ye know where the Holy-Flamin' Frost-brand Gronk-slayin' Vorpal Hammer o' woundin' an' returnin' an' Shootin'-Lightnin'-out-yer-bum is?"

Salema, if she walks past, would perhaps smile though as she gets past the man and the painting she would shake her head. Such arrogance... it's unseemly she murmured, continuing on her way to a nice walk on the countryside.

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The stoic Tyrus, for the first time in awhile clothed rather than armored, eyes the man and he walks past. Shaking his head he mutters Fool... as he passes, not caring if he was heard.

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Whomst've'll'd'mn't I play:
Salema Nefahri :: A penny for your thots
Zrae'a'stra'fryn :: That which nightmares are made of
Khasir :: From the East a storm is coming