Post by indrias on Sept 25, 2011 21:10:59 GMT -5
[atrb=width,110][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: transparent] | [atrb=width,290][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,border-right: 5px solid #AAAAAA; background-color: #CDCDCD] > BE THE MOTHERFUCKIN BARD OF... FUCK, I FORGOT :o( |
| [cs=2][atrb=width,400][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,border-right: 5px solid #AAAAAA; background-color: #D3D3D3] [div style="margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; height: 200px; overflow: auto; padding: 10px; color: #7F7F7F; text-align: left; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; height: 200px; overflow: auto;[br"]]NAME: Gamzee Makara SPECIES: Troll TROLL TAG: terminallyCapricious COLOUR: Indigo (#2b0057) STRIFE SPECIBI: Clubkind, Jokerkind PERSONALITY: When his supply of sopor slime pies and Faygo are running steady, Gamzee is a pretty chill dude. He is in a consistently good mood, and there is very little, if anything, capable of bringing him down. He is more than happy to help a friend in need (even if all that friend does is gripe about how awful he is) and never asks for anything in return, save for maybe kicking around some wicked rhymes. When his supply of fizzy drink and baked goods run on the low side... or rather, the non-existent side, Gamzee's personality devolves into something much, much darker. He is completely unhinged, ruthless and unforgiving, and cares little about allegiances or friendships. He becomes very shifty and mysterious, manipulating certain objects and events from the shadows, and is insistent in following in the murderous footprints of his Highblooded ancestors. BIO: Gamzee has a long history of living alone. Since his irresponsible lusus is out to sea most of the time, Gamzee has a slightly skewed view on the Alternian way of life and has made a lot of mistakes (chiefly, the consumption of sopor slime) for the lack of knowing any better. He is perhaps the most spiritual of his friends, a member of a strange and ill-regarded cult who believe in a group of capricious minstrels that will one day rise up on a paradise planet. Likely due to the combination of his religion and mind-altering sopor slime, Gamzee is easily fascinated by even the smallest and most explainable of things, chalking everything he doesn't understand (or doesn't want to understand) all up to miracles. Despite his high position on the hemospectrum, Gamzee (while sober) pays little regard to the order of things, and is closest friends with two members of some the lowest blood castes, Karkat and Tavros. APPEARANCE: The most notable feature of this troll is the ever-present layer of gray and white makeup painted onto his face. Gamzee never removes it purposely, but rolling around in his recuperacoon and movement in general sometimes smudges it. He towers over most of his friends, definitely tall for his age, and his long, slightly curved horns only add to the illusion that Gamzee is just short of reaching the clouds. Though a bit on the lanky side, his constant intake of sugary substances keeps Gamzee maintained at a relatively healthy weight. His hair, like any other troll's, is jet black, but since he doesn't go out of his way to maintain it, its has a rather wild and unruly shape to it. His wardrobe is consistent of a troll's natural inclination towards dark colors, though certain parts of his outfit (namely, the Capricorn mark on his shirt and his shoes) are the same indigo shade that his blood is. REFERRAL: I aLl Up AnD fOuNd ThIs ShIt On My OwN. hOnK hOnk. :o) SAMPLE ROLEPLAY: He wasn't sure what was motherfuckin' telling him so, but something about today just screamed it; Gamzee Makara could expect a miracle in the shape of an oversized sea-goat all up on his beach at any given time. He could count on one hand the number of times his lusus had visited him in the last sweep, and while he had a whole motherfuckin' list of bros and broettes to chat with on Trollian, sometimes life on such a desolate stretch of land got a little bit up on the fuckin lonely side. He was excited as shit to see the old goat, and in between staring dazedly out his hive's windows, or just spacing out in general, Gamzee not only managed to drag out his entire collection of horns (so he could lounge and soak up some wicked motherfuckin' rays while he waited), but also to bake the biggest sopor slime pie he ever did bake. It was the least he could do, that seagoatdad of his obviously being one busy motherfucker... and maybe, if the mirthful messiahs were all up and smiling down on him, the two of them could motherfuckin' bond over it, like what young troll and lusus were meant to be doing. Once everything was all ready and perfect-like, Gamzee made his way out to the beach, and regardless of how many times he'd been warned to stay away from the ocean, he spent the entire motherfuckin' day outside. He got his chill on in that mountainous pile of horns for awhile, he daydreamed, he watched the clouds streak across the sky and paint the choicest of motherfuckin' patterns. He straight up spaced out for hours, picked up funny little motherfuckin shellbeasts and let them crawl all tickly-like across his hands. He watched the sun rise, and eventually fall, but in all that time, there was nary a motherfuckin' sight of the old goat. The breeze that whipped in across the water was chilling his horn pile in the most unpleasant of fuckin' ways, and a few harsh waves all up and rudely dusted seafoam over the top of his pie. The dual moons were high up in the sky when Gamzee finally decided it was time to call it motherfuckin' quits for the night. He grabbed up a big armful of horns and made his slow trudge through the cooling sand back to his hive, feeling all sorts of conflicted. It'd been a sweet ass day, there was no denying that, but it was a little motherfuckin' disappointing that he didn't get to reunite with his lusus. He wondered why he went and got all those strong feelings about being paid a visit if it wasn't fated to happen... but the day wasn't a total loss, either. He was just about to cross into the threshold of his hive when there was a wicked cold spray of water at the back of his neck. He almost chalked it up to those unruly motherfuckin' waves spitting their chilly mist all up in his business, but a flick of the purest of pure whites out of the corner of his eye made him turn flipways. Sure enough, there was the old goat, thrashing those big ass fins of his and sprinkling water all over that pie and the remainder of his horn pile, but it didn't matter. None of that mattered, because his lusus was finally home. Mother. Fuckin'. Miracles. |
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