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May 17, 2015 22:23:10 GMT
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Post by ladytremaine on May 12, 2015 10:41:12 GMT
 cold as stone she is madness, sanity. she is hell, and paradise.
As far as bars went, the one Tamara found herself in was pretty low class. From her position at the bar, the people looked to be of the less desirable sorts, which is saying a lot as far as magical creatures goes, the equipment looked to be in a condition that would only suit a pirate. And hey, she ought to know. she’d been in any number of shitty clubs. She supposed, in a way, it wasn't her place to judge. she’d never really cared, as long as she could get what she came for. usually, it was a fun night with the girls to help her relax before going home and slaving over some essay or problem. and even with her unbelievable work ethic, she’d always made time for a little healthy fun. This felt like a life time ago for Tamara however, before The Home Office found her. Still, she can’t say she didn't wish this place hadn't been there. It was the appropriate place to meet Hook and talk business.
"You see Hook, unlike you, I've actually been successful in putting down these monsters for good. And just between you and I, I've skinned something much more dangerous than a crocodile. A dragon. You need my expertise, you don't even know the first thing about taking down a crocodile. You don't just go swashbuckling with a beast and hope for the best, you prevent it from biting back by taking away it's source of power. And I have the tools for that; do you?"
Tamara ordered another drink as the bartender glanced at the lump sum she’d pushed across the counter, he made a quick look over her shoulder. Taking the money, he put it in his pocket, turned, mixed her drink, handed it to her and went on his way. She made a disgruntled mewl and slumped back in her seat. Persuading Hook to join her and her associate was going to be a lot tougher than she had originally anticipated. It had been easier than she thought to find someone in this town with his expertise however, and that was a relief. Weeks she’d spent waiting for this break and it was here. It was like running down a road, just waiting for that bump you always trip over, and having it arrive a mile early.
"Admit it Hook, you blew it. Your one chance to kill the dark one when he was out and powerless, and you choked up. So you can either spend however long your kind lives in this bar, drinking the pain away while he's out there with his true love, being happy. Being in love. As if a monster like that can even experience such a thing. Or you can trust me and Greg, and we'll help you skin that crocodile once and for all.... How long does your kind live for by the way? We expected you to be much older from the tales."
She had known he was probably going to be younger, but it was still surprising. Ever since Neal gave her the list of fairytale characters and their counterparts, she’d imagined him to be some kind of ruggedly built bloke with long, tawny hair and a tired looking expression. After all, if he was a pirate, he could be like... one-hundred. wow. “My name is Tamara, and I think we'll be seeing a lot of each other.” She stuck out her hand in a salutary fashion. “Me and the people I work for have been looking for someone like you for a very long time. We'd love to help you exact your revenge...Assuming you do something for us.”
Taking a small sip of her drink, she glanced out into the crowd and then back to him. She figured she couldn't just come out and tell him about what they plan with the Evil Queen, even if he was capable of it. It’d be a little bit of a sensory overload. Then again, she couldn't exactly beat around the bush. They were in a bar, after all. No use making small talk around a pumping base. Best to be direct but not horrifically so.
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May 17, 2015 22:23:10 GMT
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Post by ladytremaine on May 11, 2015 10:50:17 GMT
cold as stone she is madness, sanity. she is hell, and paradise.
The hustle and bustle of Storybrooke was really an ally for someone like Tamara. It was a nice touch to be able to blend with these fairytale creatures when her plans were more of a suspicious nature. She loved a quiet town- more specifically The Rabbit Hole, and the very generous bartenders at such an establishment She never had trouble blending in.
Tamara had been sitting by the bar for quite some time. She was able to enjoy two glasses of scotch as she sat on one of the stools. Tamara didn't have trouble being admired as well. She's often been compared to the likes of Tyra Banks and Naomi Campbell. This was her third glass of whiskey, and she was almost halfway through- she stirred the drink with her finger as she eyed the short haired Pirate sitting right next to her. "You know, you'll never get another opportunity like this, Hook. You should take the life line I'm giving you. Clearly you've lost your magic touch that skinning a crocodile requires." Her eyes glided from her cleavage down to her legs- her short black dress made her quite the seductive woman. As she winked at him, she took a swig of her drink- tasting every drop before finally standing up.
"Magic..." she whispered to herself with a slight of tone of disgust. She took a sip of the third glass as her hands reached for her purse. Yes, a cigarette needed to be in session. She didn't need to calm her nerves, no. She just thought it was something that arrived to be far sexier with her nature. The human surrounded by magical creatures had a lot on her mind, she wanted to make alliances with some of the more volatile creatures that inhabit this quaint little town; those who every boy and girl in America know about via their storybooks. She felt a touch out of place, but no matter if it's a bar in a magical suburbia, or a bar on the Upper West side. If you acted like you belonged, you usually did. She knew that The Rabbit Hole was going to be the perfect spot to use Killian Jones thirst for vengeance against him. Seducing him to the side of The Home Office would set everything in motion for phase two.
She didn't like it that she needed his help. As far as she's concerned magic is a cancer in the heart of this world that would be better left purged with her tazer. But she was left with no choice but to ally with one of them if she were to succeed in cleansing this unholy power from her world. Soon enough though her true nature would be revealed to him. Cold, cruel, and having a deep-seeded vendetta against his kind. She was grimly determined to forward the interests of The Home Office at all costs.
"We're not so different from each other, you and I. People try and twist our motives, but you can trust me, Hook. Or do you prefer Killian over your storybook name? I figure if we're gonna be working together, we better get the introductions out of the way."
If Tamara was telling the truth about anything, it was that her and the pirate are quite familiar with grief. But both villains wore it wonderfully well.
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May 17, 2015 22:23:10 GMT
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Post by ladytremaine on May 9, 2015 7:10:07 GMT
Tamara
"Magical? No. I'm quite human." Little is known about Tamara's past. Quite possibly due to the works of the home office. What little is known about her is her close and personable relationship with her grandmother. Tamara is one of the home offices top field agents on their crusade to rid the world of magic. A strong-willed leader who can be linked directly in the face of dictatorial potential. With a deeply seeded mission, she someone that is not to be taken lightly. She is power hungry, enjoying the thought of being able to have the upper hand over anything or anyone around. Leadership is something that she shows often, especially with no personal connections to tie her down. She is someone who has enough experience with these covert operations that she feels she knows how these fairytale characters and storybrooke works.(and has good reason for it). She carries herself well. Determined to get her way, not let anyone stop her or the mission. She would stab someone in the back if she had to, lie, cheat, and/or steal to see it through. Or for things to go in her favor because she feels her way is right. Stubborn is something people could say about her as well. Depending on the situation of what is happening. But either way, Tamara will keep her head held high, unless she is trying to act like someone else or play someone like Neal Cassidy. However despite all of this, I definitely feel like there's room for redemption depending on who she's interacting with. As she definitely seemed remorseful before her death. No matter how black someones heart might be, they can't be all bad, right? (: If you have any ideas for Tamara, feel free to reply to this or shoot me a PM! |
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May 17, 2015 22:23:10 GMT
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Tamara
May 3, 2015 11:19:07 GMT
Post by ladytremaine on May 3, 2015 11:19:07 GMT
 | ~ • ~ | Character Basics | ~ • ~ |
.:Name: Tamara
.:Nick Name:. N/A
.:Affiliation:. Evil
.:Status:. Civillian
| ~ • ~ | Appearance | ~ • ~ |
.:Physical Appearance: An unusual amount of focus goes to her shoes. High heels, especially pristine high-heels stored carefully in a display cabinet. Tamara is a person very concerned with appearances; one who is willing to go through a lot of pain to look the way she does. More often than not, she's seen wearing gloves out and about the town. Black leather gloves when she's outdoors; surgical gloves so she doesn't get her hands dirty when she has to kill someone; very akin to Darth Vader in a frock. Her scorn towards all of Storybrookes residents gradually changes Tamara from the calm and collected operative, to vivid, poisonous greens. She wears almost the same thing everyday. Her suits were designed by Giorgio Armani, and she wears several variations on the same one -- a smooth green skirt and jacket, with a soft blouse that ties around the neck. For a woman working in such a regimented environment, this is ideal for her. Tamara is highly efficient, and seems like the type of person who would just buy five copies of the same outfit once she'd found something that struck the correct balance between formal and feminine.
.:Height: 5'8
.:Portrayed by: Sonequa Martin Green
| ~ • ~ | Personality | ~ • ~ |
.:Personality:. There is no way one works up the ranks of the home office without having the seed of greed. Beneath her rather kind smile is the trap of deceit, deception, manipulation and the limitless craving for a world without magic. Yet, she's not the personification of evil. Her role as a top agent of the home office gave her the unique opportunity to witness how these fairy-tale characters do not use their power ideally; they're a danger and a menace that need to be exterminated. Tamara has a sense of sophistication, she basks in sarcasm and is highly intellectual. She can be selfish, manipulative and intimidating; but at the same time she is greedy. Greedy for power, honor, for love. She's a perfectionist in a world of minimalist covert operations, sterile hotels, and magic.
.:Strengths: Manipulative, Double Agent, Martyr
.:Weaknesses:. Malevolent, Indoctrinated, Bigoted
| ~ • ~ | History | ~ • ~ |
.:Birthplace: New York, New York
.:Family:. N/A
.:Occupation:. N/A
.:History:.
Graduation. Liberation. Success. New York University wasn't the cream of the crop, and even then it hadn't been easy, but Tamara had made it. She had earned her journalism major. Unlike a lot of her colleagues from high school, Tamara thrived in college. being able to have a length of independence she'd lacked in high school, she was able to throw herself fully at her studies. Her happiness was no longer designated by her status, and she was able to drop most of the dead weight-type friends she'd endured for years. Now, with free license to focus on her work, she worked like a fiend. Reading and rereading all of her work, having her roommate check it, even sending it to grandmother- anything she could to ensure top notch grade. Unlike high school, though, she refused to tell her professors of her dyslexia. Tamara didn't want an excuse to let mistakes slide. she wanted to be judged just like everyone else. And instead of tiring her out, it only motivated her more. She'd be the goddamn best, even if she mistook her e's for threes and her handwriting was filled with crossed out sections and indecipherable handwriting.
Soon after graduating she began investigating seemingly "magical" instances. Surely magic isn't real, right? Tamara was skeptical, but figured it was worth a look. She traveled all over New York State, investigating people who claim they saw something or heard from a friend of a friend. Slowly but surely piecing it all together. No evidence solid however, so she almost gave up on this crackpot of a story until she was contacted by a man named Greg. He told her about this organization he works for called "The Home Office". Which investigates and terminates magical creatures. Surely he was crazy, right? But deep down, Tamara had an inkling he was telling the truth after he confided in her about his father. And with a little convincing from The Home Office, she was sold on it. She had finally discovered her true calling. This new job gave her the unique opportunity to travel the world, searching for magic. She met a lot of frauds from the states to Africa, claiming they were voodoo witch doctors or belong to the coven from geyser of Malays. Until her travels and investigation brought her to Hong Kong.
"The Dragon" some called him, she heard from the locals he was a healer, and he could cure people. Almost like magic. She meets with this "dragon" under the false pretense that she has terminal cancer- to see if this mystical healer really is who he says he is. After receiving this "magical cure", she meets a man named August for a drink in a bar not far from The Dragons shop. She tells him all about her illness and how the dragon is going to help her where medical science cannot. Then when she turns away for just a moment to answer her phone, he steals it. Tamara then chases him through the busy and chaotic streets of Hong Kong, finally catching up to the man as he trips, allowing Tamara to catch the bottle of magical substances. Remarking to Pinocchio he deserves whatever illness that has been brought upon him. Tamara then confronts the dragon, asking him how he could create a potion that contains no elements known to mankind. He admits he treats people who suffer from magical afflictions not of this world. Now that Tamara has found him and with that confession, she can't risk anyone else knowing about him. She takes out the tazer she received from the home office and kills The Dragon. Fleeing the scene, presumably traveling to her next assignment.
Luckily for Tamara her next assignment would be in her home town of New York City. The double agent spies on Neal and the man she met back at The Dragons shop via her compact mirror. When August leaves, she purposefully bumps into Neal and spills coffee all over herself. Tamara feigns dismay, as Neal offers her his scarf. At this point he was in the palm of her hand, the two exchange numbers and later begin dating. The couple later become engaged, all while Tamara is in cahoots with her partner in crime, Greg. She calls him after he crashed into Storybrooke, after surgery he told her all about Mr. Gold conjuring a fireball out of mid air. Later he sends Tamara a video of The Evil Queen using her magic to levitate an object. This was undeniable proof that her and Greg had found a gold mine of magical creatures. After the call, she lets Neal borrow her car- then by coincidence meets him on the street with his ex girlfriend, Emma Swan. Tamara soon learns the circumstances that surround Emma, primarily being they have a child together. Neal then invites Tamara to go with them to Storybrooke. This was it, this was the big break that The Home Office has spent generations waiting....plotting for. Tamara leapt at the opportunity.
Now with Tamara and Greg inside the belly of the beast, but more importantly, The Home Office inside Storybrooke. Not even magic could save these abominations.
| ~ • ~ | Sample Post | ~ • ~ |
It was a dark, quiet night. Not even the moon was there to lightly illuminate the world, a thin layer of clouds in the sky muting the light of the stars as well. In this part of the neighborhood - a small suburb on the outskirts of town - not even the chaos of the Storybrooke night life could pierce the quietness. There was just the soft melody of crickets, and the purr of a black Mercedes as it crept through the streets. Even with the tiny disturbance, no one stirred from inside their houses. No one except the house on the end of the street; the only one with lights on. It was here that the Mercedes parked, the door cracking open and a slender, dark leg accented with a deep red high heel appeared from the car. Following it was a woman just as slender, her dyed blonde hair pulled back into a messy up-do. The casualness of it contrasted with her outfit; a dark suit with the only pop of color being her red heels and equally red blouse just barely visible from under her jacket. Her heels clicked softly against the concrete driveway as she strode up to the house, the door opening before she even had the opportunity to stop in front of it.
"Eva? Eva Tremaine?! What are you doing in Storybrooke?!" the question came from the man who answered the door, a genuine look of surprise crossing his attractive features. She had to take a moment to admire him, eyes traveling over him slowly.
A sigh escaped her lips, pushing her bottom lip out into a pout. "It's nice to see you too, Charles. Have you been in this world so long that already you've forgotten your manners? Tisk tisk" she walked inside the home, giving the man a pat on the chest as she passed. She was almost tempted to let her hand linger; she could feel the muscles from underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. She let her gaze wander over his house, taking in her surroundings with curiosity. "I'm rather fond of you, Charles. Ive missed our tea time. Remember? Every Sunday, oh the laughs we shared. But that won't be happening again for a while yet, not while we're trapped in an uncivilized place such as this. In fact i was hoping you could assist me."
The man, Charles, shut the door behind her quietly, following her as she wandered further into his home. "Of course, madame," he replied, walking to the refrigerator as they move into his kitchen. "Would you like a cup of Coffee?"
The offering makes her upper lip curl in disgust. "I'll pass. Who do i have to sleep with in this podunk town to get a Stolli Martini with a twist of Lemon?"
An amused smile comes across his face, and he walks over to the counter island, resting his arms on it as he leans toward her. "Not that i mind seeing your exquisite features again, madame, but how did you know where i live? How did you even get here?"
"Oh you know me Charles, quite well in fact. I've always had friends in high places." She explains as she sits down on one of the bar stools opposite of him, her gaze still flicking around the room. Her tone casual for someone accustomed to palaces, her gaze halting in its analysis of his home and settling on his face.
"Not always, Eva. I've known you a long time, longer than i think anyone has."
Lady Tremaine sighs, tapping her nails impatiently across the counter-top. " Hem-hem. Yes, about that. You see, i can't have anyone from my past recognizing me. Let alone knowing where I came from once they start excavating. It would put a rather unfortunate knot in my and my associates plans. You're the last person who will bring me back to where I was. Sniveling little worm. Just think of it as tying up loose ends. I'm sorry it had to end this way my possum, I truly am."
Charles just stares at her for a few moments, mouth slack as the severity of the situation began to register with him. There was a blur of movement, and a second later she retrieves a revolver from the inside of her jacket, Charles only managing to get out the beginnings of a scream before the bullet tears through his back and pierces his heart, causing him to collapse to the floor.
Lady Tremaine takes a step back from the mess, tossing the gun on the ground. "I never liked how he made the tea anyways. Too much sugar."
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