Lady Cakes

blackoutballad:

Gamzee Makara and Tavros Nitram

Weapon(s) of choice:
- Dual clubs [sometimes Hammer]
- Lance

Method: “Freelance warfare with subtle care” - truth is that no one really knows what they’re doing and how it is they go about it; they do tend to cause a ruckus, however, but the unpredictability factor scares many on its own

• Gamzee is the son of a crime lord whose syndicate is known for their brutality. Because of recreational drug use he’s rather carefree and reckless in a passive fashion.  However, he is highly unstable and has a number of budding psychological issues, mostly unknown in source. His childhood friend Karkat, who is now legally bound to be responsible for him, is usually there to maintain his well-being. He is very capable of snapping, however, and when he does it’s not pretty.  His method of killing gets especially sloppy and ruthless, morphing more into actual torture, rather than offing on the spot. This often results in overkill and draws much unwanted attention that compromises the situation.
• Tavros had been a very active hitman before an incident had crippled his legs.  He is now indebted to a robotics aficionado from Veilchen for the advanced biomechanical legs he must use to operate on the field. However, they are fairly uncomfortable, so he tends to hang back and help gather data while his partner goes out into the fray. Back when Tavros was a bit more active, his gentle nature prevented him from performing his duties quickly and cleanly. Every now and again, Tavros tries to take the initiative and help Gamzee exterminate the targets at hand.

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✯ natasha romanova
i discovered the writer, leo tolstoy, in a muddy ditch that held more blood than rain. one of the soldiers loved his words—and then, so did i. “all, everything, that i understand,” he wrote, “i understand only because i love.” that was so many years ago. but words on a page didn’t teach me that lesson. i learned it on my own. i learned it in trenches with bullets flying overhead; pressed back to back with grizzled starving men who would have laid their lives for mine. i learned it from a ribbon tied around my finger. i learned it from a kick inside my belly. i learned it from death, and hardship, and brief acts of kindness. i learned love from sacrifice. i learned love from living. and no matter where i’ve gone or what i’ve done—all the dark things i do not regret, but will never speak of—that is the one part of me that i have always kept safe. imus was such a fool. tolstoy will live forever. some people do. but that’s not enough. it’s not the length of a life that matters…just the depth of it. the chances we take. the paths we choose. how we go on after our hearts break. hearts always break. and so we bend with our hearts. and we sway. but in the end…what matters is that we loved…and lived.

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