Taming Gamzee Makara

New Tutor

About three things I was absolutely positive.
First, Gamzee was a juggalo.
Second, there was a part of him-and I didn't know how dominant that might be- that didn't know how magnets worked.
And third, I fucking hated his stoned ass.

gallowsCalibrator's Blog – Entry 67
There are not enough words in the world to describe how irritating Gamzee "Dude Where's" Makara is. I'm not kidding. There really aren't. I checked.

My older sister, Latula, tells me I'm being too hard on the guy. She would say that too – she's pals with his creepy as fuck older brother, Kurloz. I don't think I'm being too hard, personally, but she practically tackles me whenever I say a bad word about either of them in the house. Mom just drifts on by without commenting, grinning away in her distracted absentness. When she does pay attention she's scary, but ever since she retired from being a lawyer she's relaxed so much it's a miracle she's ever awake. I'd be a little freaked by it if I didn't have Latula keeping us steady and making sure things still run smoothly at home.

Latula seems to be of the opinion, though, that Gamzee is just misguided. Personally, I think that's bullshit. He's an idiot, and he's in your face about it. I still remember my first sighting of him – on my first day at high school, I was on the bus reading. We pulled into the stop, I put away my book, walk down the aisle, step off – and the first thing I saw was Gamzee fucking Makara mooning all of us from behind the school gate.

Moron.

Just. Ugh. I cannot even deal with him. Not at all.

---

Terezi wakes up late the Tuesday after the long weekend, and proceeds to freak out. She leaps out of bed, stubbing her toe in the process, and frantically grabs clothes from the floor. She screeches "LATULA! WHY DIDN'T YOU WAKE ME?!" as she runs to the bathroom, almost slamming the door behind her. She showers with determination, getting herself clean, shaved and scrubbed in less than five minutes and drying herself in half that time. She dresses, almost falling over tugging her tights up her legs, and Latula comes around the corner, rubbing sleep out of her eye. She yawns.

"Why didn't you wake me up? I'm going to be late!" Terezi snaps, buttoning her shorts and reaching for a hairbrush. She tugs the brush through her shoulder length brown hair, which is thankfully drying fairly quickly. She pauses for a second, checking her scar that extends from one side of her nose, over the bridge, and to the other side. It looks the same as ever, but she can never resist checking. She sighs, then strides out to the kitchen. She eats a bowl of cornflakes, grimacing at the taste – Mom had done the shopping last week, clearly – and then rushes back to the bathroom. She brushes her teeth, then runs to the door where her bag is waiting, packed and ready as she had left it last night. She pulls on her shoes just as the bus pulls up outside, and she offers a thankful prayer as she runs to it, her bag bouncing against her back.

She nods to the bus driver, wincing at the thick blueberry smell of the bus, and sits down to wait for her heartbeat to slow down. She breathes slowly, calming herself, waiting for herself to settle. All she can smell is blueberry which doesn't help. It's been two years since the LARPing accident that left her with the ability to smell and taste colours, but it's still hard to get used to. It's called synaesthesia, her little ability, and it came at the price of the scar on her face. The bus slows to a stop as it pulls into the school, and she stands, her heart calmed down considerably.

Terezi gets off the bus, stepping down with practiced ease. It's her final year in high school, and she carries herself with the quiet dignity that seniors seem to have. Most of the time, anyway. Some people never quite get the dignity thing down. She looks around, swaying a bit from the assault on her senses. While she's thankful the synaesthesia and the scar are the only things she ended up with, she doesn't really like how a lot of things in suburbia smell. Especially the school. She knows she was lucky, knows how badly it could have gone, knows in detail what Vriska would have been charged with, what she could still be charged with by Tavros' guardian. Vriska should be damn grateful the Nitrams are the nicest people to exist ever, and that Tavros' dad had a fling with Vriska's mom back in college.