Genesis of Apotheosis

[Strazio Rockwell]

“Well that was a grim fucking note to end the night on,” Strazio noted and scanned the faces of his fellows for a response.

Each of them seem absorbed in their own thoughts or unsure of just how to respond. Without another word Strazio left the group to their own devices and wandered outside. The crisp night air wrapped around him like a refreshing blanket. The defender made his way to the edge of the campsite and found a tree stump to plant himself on. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. Overhead the pale moon shone through the curtain of vines and tree limbs that hung lazily overhead.

He turned Tearen’s words over and over in his head, examining each statement as one would examine a rare gemstone. What he mentioned was as terrifying as it was tantalizing. To have access to such unbridled power, but at the cost of one’s own humanity intrigued the young magus to no end. After all that’s all magick really was if you boiled it down -- wish fulfillment at a measured cost. Were one willing and able to sacrifice enough they could accomplish anything they wanted to. Once it was no longer a question of ability it then turned into a question of sacrifice. At the end of the day, just how much was he willing to give up in pursuit of Damien?

Prior to his abduction into the Omniverse he would’ve sacrificed everything, no questions asked. But now things weren’t so cut and dry. He sighed and thumbed at the crest of Darkshire that hung around his neck. Were he given the choice several months ago to enact his revenge or save Darkshire it would have been an easy choice. He silently cursed Rumford for making this so difficult. He also cursed the approaching Makara that seemed intent on ruining his self-reflection.

“Hey there Strazberry,” the lovable thorn in Strazio’s side spoke, “you gettin’ all philosophical and shit out here?”

Strazio shrugged.

“Yeah, lotsa things kickin’ around in my braincase too,” Gamzee noted.

The white-haired boy sighed and glanced away before saying, “yeah, I don’t know, things are just so damn complicated now, I’m not sure what to think.”

Gamzee cracked open a can of his wicked elixer and drank. He exhaled, burped, and then spoke, “you’re too much like a rock man, and I don’t mean that buff sunglasses wearin’ motherfucker, I mean like a motherfuckin’ stone.”

“What are you talking about?” Strazio asked.

“I mean, think of a river, and imaginate that there’s this big ol’ rock just chillin’ in the middle of this river,” Strazio raised an eyebrow, and Gamzee continued, “and, like, that motherfucker ain’t going anywhere right? He’s strong as fuck. Even though the world is moving around him he ain’t. You’re the rock, brother, and sometimes the only way you can get anywhere is to let the river break you up and move you. You can’t just be all stagnant and shit, sometimes you just gotta trust the motherfuckin’ miracles and go with the flow, you dig?”

“Did you,” Strazio paused for a minute and rubbed his eyes, “did you just say something that makes sense?”

Gamzee shrugged, “course I did, I’m a prophet of the Mirthful Messiah, brother, I’m laying down all kinna whimsical words.”

“Right, well, I need some time to think, you mind giving me some space?”

“Sure thing Strawso, I need to catch up with Karbro anyways,” he said before taking another swig of his Faygo and heading back to the others.