Ty's Art

The art of A 'Tygenco' Breiling

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This bag was a work assignment; as of this initial post here, it’s sitting in Puyallup at the Sewing & Stitchery Expo at the Pacific Fabrics booth. I am not the one who picked the fabric, in case you’re wondering. (if it had been my choice? it’d have been octopuses or galaxies or cats, because why the hells not?)

Bonus pic of Tamara photobombing right before she decided she liked the bag enough to smooch all over it.

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Happy anniversary, you two :) (even though I’m horribly late)

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WIP shot of something I’m working on.

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Green stage. Whee!

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Work has begun on commission #1

Starting with that egg for the ribcage and placing things from there.

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Jennifer

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Oren: What... are you doing?

Tsukiko: I want to see if this’ll help with the static.

Oren: ...

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Cende’s character, Adeline DuVal.

Telekinetic, telepathic, and hacker. French-Canadian, likes to look sweet and garner the response of “ (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧  kawaii desu!!” from others. Completely jealous of her classmates that have their own flats and don’t have to live in the dorms.

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Siamese, or Rumble. Or Steve.

This fish plays a part in the FATE game that I’m part of. Hilarity ensues.

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Oren Durant.

This is my character for @ishouldrantmore‘s FATE game, Hikari Academy.

She has prosthetic limbs, fires lightning, and can interact with machines. She’s also the only character in the group that isn’t full-blooded Japanese, either.

There are secrets there, obviously; teenager. Nuff said.

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@ishouldrantmore‘s Kuzo Yamada and friend TexasChris’s Ichiro Shimada.

Kuzo is a grav-controller... Kind of. Sort of. It’s complicated.

Ichiro is a darkness/shadow-controller. Mostly. It’s also complicated.

These characters are for a FATE game we’re in; Hikari Academy is the name we’re putting this series of sessions under.

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@samurai-ko‘s FATE game character, Tsukiko Takeshi Takashi.

Halo brush by the wonderful @gingerhaole.

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Then And Now: Jem by tygenco

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A short time later

The follow-up to this post.

Again, this is samurai-ko‘s fault.

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Corporate

Corporate life really is a soul-sucking thing, if for some reason anyone had ever thought otherwise. In the midst of the rainfall of clacking keys and discontented sighs there are minds that are clawing away at the current P&P files and finding all the loopholes. Those same minds are jacked into the electrical flow via mp3 players and radios, sucking down amps and voltage like vampires in the throes of blood-lust. Rules that are thought up and decided on in the halls and out beneath the half-broken umbrellas over the smoking area were somehow approved, probably thanks to a corp spinster and a pretty face. Never mind the things that could be happening under the table--they're too numb for that. The putrid scent of half-chewed tobacco and menthol cigarettes mixed with the newest rounds of overdone perfumes and cheap allergy lozenges hits, followed by the predictable and no less hated migraine. There isn't enough air freshener in the world to remove that scent. It's enough to make one want to set up a Level 4 Bio-hazard containment tent. And short of actually contracting something ranking on that level of infection or contagion, one is at a loss. Cough loud and in their faces, it still does nothing. The minds go back to prying apart the rules. With the consistent inconsistencies, the minds are finding patterns. Each mind has a sort of specialized spreadsheet going, categorizing things according to severity and time. Bright points come up like flares in the dark. A veritable matrix is running, and those minds are in a strange sort of contact with each other. Verifying. Confirming. Effectively terrifying and terrifyingly effective. More verifying. It's all there, the means with which to undo the things that shouldn't have been done, buried deep beneath red tape and painted-pressboard doors. Another sigh, another key clicked, another soul snuffed out.

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Lady Izanami