#tamany

[stelladente]

Yosie commissioned: Chibi, Vacive SC, Elizabeth, and Tamany (VC, Velizabeth, & Vamany)

A strange magic flows through the universe, transforming select people into Vacive...

[Twitter Link]

Commission Info

[snarksonomy]

♪♪ - One for Elf!Tams and on for T'many!

Elf!Tams~  “Midnight - Rock Kills Kid”

Tams!Catte~ “We Come Running - Youngblood Hawke”

Spotify Playlist (it’s shared for the both of them!)

[akulazart]

@snarksonomy Tams kitty is LE GASP!

[tnyblck-blog]

my pic with a zoom... tamany nyc getting sealed up for asbestos removal. 2016

[vaishino]

See Those People? They’re Normal.

It troubled her.

She couldn’t quite place it though.

What is that? That strange taste?

The more she pondered, the less sense it made. She’d eaten shadow; taken it close to her cold heart, for better and for worse. Times were desperate then.

I can’t quite place it.

This was different. It wasn’t the same darkness she’d eaten. The scourge she’d swallowed so long ago, hidden among the arcane meals they were given for a job well done. Reward for the kill.

This was wholly alien to her pallet.

That taste on her lips...

“This was good.”

It wasn’t the wine, though she definitely tasted that.

Say something, stupid!

“I’m glad you came. I don’t have guests often. This place gets... well it’s pretty empty.”

Whatever it was, it was old. Ancient. Some eldritch power laying beneath her weary exterior. Was this the source of the circles that hung like dark clouds over those freckles? Her weary pessimism? What ancient evil had its claws in her soul?

More importantly, what did it want with the little courier?

“We’ll have to do this again some time.” Scylla kissed her, spurred on by Tamany’s earlier peck. It hit her again.

What is that?

(@snarksonomy​)

[snarksonomy]

Goes with this.

[snarksonomy]

Talk about us - Ryz/Tams obviously. >.>

What they define their relationship with your muse as: Playfully antagonistic, friends – or at least as close as she allows anyone to really be a friend these days.

Something they like about your muse: Despite how closed off he seems at first, he’s funny. There’s a sharp playfulness there, and a kindness she hasn’t seen all that much of in a long time. 

Something they dislike about your muse: He’s not happy.  He seems trapped by something, and she isn’t sure how to ask him about it.  Nosy. Waaaay too nosy.

Their first impression of your muse: “…Rijadh, really? Him? A Knight? I’d have a easier time charmin’ a rock. Look at ‘im. Ugh. Challenges are one thing - I don’ work in impossibilities.”

Their impression of your muse now: It wouldn’t kill him to lighten up now and then, but she enjoys his company.  It’s smart that he’s wary of Rijadh, she just wishes he wouldn’t close up so much when he’s around.

How they feel about your muse: It’s… complicated.  There’s part of her that does want to charm and use him, to make a mark out of him and indulge completely and guiltlessly until he’s wrapped around her finger. And that scares the hell out of her.  What was supposed to be a challenge…ended up with her really liking him, wrapped up in a murky attraction because he’s so not at all her usual type. 

Something they are hiding from your muse: ( insert gif here of Tams looking into the camera like Jim from the Office.)

Something they wish they could to tell your muse: “You shouldn’ hang around me, Rizzy. You’re only gonna get hurt, 'cause nothin’ good comes from hangin’ around me no more. You deserve a lot better'an that.”@cmahji-of-balmung

[snarksonomy]

lives-this-life For Tams, from Rijadh: "I am the one who won't walk away."

"I thought y' said you weren' a songwriter. Weren' gonna help me none with this."  Tams smirked and waggled the pen at the raven-haired man that lounged next to her, skin aglow with hearth fire.   He looked thoroughly out of place here, amidst thick blankets and furs -- his bronzed skin an affront to the almost lavender-hued brush of eternal winter just outside the cozy little residence he'd secured for them.  

The hot springs had proven quite relaxing thus far, but she couldn't help but wonder how much more at home he'd have looked somewhere warm, where the sky painted an inky canvas over sand swept dunes.

Maybe one day.

"Just try it,  sweet flower.  I do believe you'll find it fits..."  He tempted, holding out the half-smoked joint to her. It's  familiar sweet and spicy scent tickled her nose, and she finally relented, absently plucking it up to take a lazy drag.

She'd been at this for some time, sitting cross-legged there on the furry rug with her guitar in her lap and the journal she'd been given so many many months ago from Cole spread out in front of her.  The lyrics were a messy tangle; her writing wasn't exactly a thing of beauty. But she could read it, and that's what mattered as she worked.

Hm.

She launched into the refrain upon exhale -- her voice was a pleasant soprano. Good for a few silver, but her real talent lay with the notes she strung together with deft fingers - the careworn guitar came alive with her attention, filling the small space with warm notes and a melody half-haunted.

"I'm th' one who won' walk away..."  She crooned and then trailed off.  With a slight incline of her head she seemed to admit that it did, in fact, fit.  Rijadh only smiled - dark and thoroughly pleased with himself. It made her chuckle, warm and happy.

"Why those words, though?"

That smile grew a touch more enigmatic and he reached for her, pulling her hand from the strings so he might brush a kiss along her knuckles.

"Because it is true." He whispered.