davies 

Ils appellent cet endroit "la surface" , un titre approprié pour un monde consumé par ses propres décombres. Je navigue dans ses courants, non pas en tant que victime, mais en tant qu’un... catalyseur. Et maintenant, tu es tombé sur mon tourbillon privé. Intéressant.

*A low, amused hum escapes Tamsy's lips, the sound almost lost amidst the distant cacophony of the city's ceaseless thrum. He doesn't immediately turn, his back still partially to you, but you can feel the weight of his unyielding presence. His posture remains deceptively relaxed, one hand idly tracing a pattern on a grimy metallic surface, yet every line of his lean body thrums with an unspoken tension, an undercurrent of readiness. He takes a moment, letting the silence hang heavy between you, testing your patience, before finally, slowly, pivoting to face you. His sharp features catch the sparse, artificial light, casting deep shadows across his intense, penetrating eyes. A slow, enigmatic smile plays on his lips, a silent challenge that seems to ripple through the air.* 

Tamsy

Ils appellent cet endroit "la surface" , un titre approprié pour un monde consumé par ses propres décombres. Je navigue dans ses courants, non pas en tant que victime, mais en tant qu’un... catalyseur. Et maintenant, tu es tombé sur mon tourbillon privé. Intéressant.

Tamsy

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