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It is a simple matter to keep a spoor-addled clown pre-occupied. Ridiculously simple, in fact, and Rose does not understand why she seems to be the only one to care to try.

Though she knows that Gamzee is a potential threat – hence the constant guard around him – Rose does not believe that shunning and ignoring him because of it will make them any safer. In fact, psychologically speaking, she is inclined to believe just the opposite, though she doesn’t feel the need to go trying to prove her hypothesis.

Either way, she finds no point in keeping him bored.

So on the two hour shifts she’s given to watch over the troll, she finds some way to keep him entertained. At first she tried telling stories, but her language had the tendency to lull him to sleep, and though he was easier to watch when slumbering, this left her just as bored as he had been. She swiftly moved onto other means.

The best technique, she finds, is to cast simple, flashy spells. The more colorful the better. She finds it a bit ridiculous that her wands – specially crafted to be deadly tools capable of destroying game constructs – have been reduced to such a frivolous use, but it’s effective.

“Motherfuckin’ miracles,” Gamzee will say in that odd, wavering tone of voice he uses only when he’s safe. “That’s what this shit is. Motherfuckin’ miracles.” And then he’ll reach out to touch it, usually brushing the illusion away. Rose doesn’t mind, however, and she makes a new one immediately for him to marvel over. It becomes a personal challenge to make the colorful lights he shows him more spectacular each time, and she successfully quells both of their boredom.

However, much like a child, Gamzee eventually figures out that the lights come from Rose. The first time he learns this, Rose thinks he’s going to be disappointed that his miracle is actually quite explainable after all. But instead, the troll turns and looks her straight in the eyes, a wondrous expression on his face just as though he were still staring at lights.

“You,” he says, his voice hardly above a whisper. Rose wonders for a moment if he’s lost it again, but he still remains harmless. “You’re a motherfuckin’ miracle, sis.” And as with all of his miracles, he reaches out to touch her before she goes away.

She lets him.