Gamzee Makara looked out one of the large windows in his house. The storm was relenting, and his father still wasn't home yet. He pressed his hand to the cool glass and sighed, looking at his reflection. Despite the painted- on grin of his clown make- up, he was frowning. He started humming and smiled again, sauntering over to the couch, where he flopped down with a yawn. He raked a hand through his chestnut brown hair and thought of what to do. In a moment of genious, he slid his favorite game into his xBox and started playing, thumbs flying across the buttons and joysticks. Just as a loud thunderclap echoed through the community, his doorbe