This Thing Don't Look So Tough

[Strazio Rockwell]

“Gamzee, I’m trying to sleep for fuck’s sake,” Strazio groaned.

“Oh right, sorry bro,” Gamzee said, “just excited about tomorrow s’all, we get to go be motherfuckin’ heros and all that mirthful shit.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see what happens,” Strazio responded, “now go to sleep.”

The duo had made themselves at home in Rumford’s guest room. Strazio had already taken it upon himself to confiscate the troll’s candy, but the damage was already done. The high blood fidgeted about in his bed, filling the night air with creaky springs and the rustle of blankets. Strazio squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fall asleep.

“Strawso?

Rockwell sighed and answered with a curt, “what?”

“How we gonna take that big motherfucker down?” Gamzee asked, “not that I’m scared or nothing, just tryna motherfuckin’ mentalize how this is gonna go down.”

Strazio didn’t answer for a while, but finally said, “not sure, we don’t really know too much about it, but if it bleeds we can blow it the fuck up, now good night”

“Good night Strawso.”

Rockwell turned over and closed his eyes. Planning wasn’t ever something he did well, but Gamz was right, that thing was big. Even the megafauna of Strazio’s home universe paled in comparison to the leviathan that Tarrasque was. Hell the thing was probably bigger in person than in the pictures. Strazio did his best to push the monster out of his mind, it would be dealt with in the morning.

“Hey Straz,” Gamzee muttered.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

--

Sleep eventually come to the white-haired pugilist, but not before he took the time to summon a set of earplugs. His dreamworld was filled with nightmares and rancorous visions. This terrible trip through the Astral Verse came to an abrupt end as he was shook awake. Like a viper pouncing on a meal Strazio’s hand snatched the wrist of whoever dared to wake him. Sparks crackled across the mage’s body, searing away a thin layer of cold sweat.

“Ow,” Rumford said and tried to pull his hand away, “let go already.”

Strazio’s emerald eyes locked with Rumford and the two shared a tense moment. The green shimmer in Rockwell’s eyes faded as did the white-hot sparks. He released his friend’s wrist.

“Sorry,” Strazio said, and looked away.

“Right,” Sergeant Rumford said while rubbing his bruised wrist, “at any rate, your friend is downstairs eating breakfast, you should probably join him if you’re going Tarrasque hunting today.”

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute,” he said and sat up on the end of the bed.

Once Rumford had left Strazio pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes and groaned. Adrenaline jitters still trembled throughout his body. A copper taste tinged his gums and his teeth ached. It had been a long time since he had grinded his teeth while sleeping. Strazio shuddered and a wave of goosebumps travelled across his scarred skin. Valerie used to say that dreams were but windows into other worlds, ones that perhaps weren’t so different than their own. Strazio prayed that Valerie was wrong. With a sigh the tormented mage stood and threw on his shirt.

Downstairs Gamzee was busy tearing into the breakfast that the good sergeant had made for them. Strazio grabbed a plate and began to scarf down some food himself. Rumford sat down across from them and began to enjoy his own meal. For awhile the three sat and ate and caught up with each other. Strazio had intended to omit their apprenticeship with Tearen, but his candy corn-horned friend launch right into their adventure with the ex-enigma. Rumford listened intently and expressed his wariness of the elder prime in much the same way as Mama Godwin.

In an attempt to change the subject Strazio asked, “where’s Rika? Shouldn’t she be eating breakfast?”

Sergeant Rumford sighed and Strazio immediately regretted asking.

“She’s been having nightmares,” he said, “real vivid ones, they keep her up at night and she has a hard time actually sleeping until the sun starts to shine.”

“Man, I’m sorry,” Strazio said.

Rumford poked at his food, “ain’t your fault, it’s just the nature of this place, Godwin says she’s got some dark juju hanging over her, if you can believe anything that lady says.”

Strazio nodded and nudged Gamzee, “that reminds me, why don’t you go get his gift?”

“Oh yeah, almost forgot about the motherfucker,” Gamzee said and ran up the stairs.

Rumford stood and collected the empty plates. He tossed them into the sink and said over his shoulder, “y’know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I didn’t” Rockwell replied, “Godwin did, says its for taking good care of Peter.”

“Right,” he said, “I keep forgetting that boy is her child, he’s nothing like her.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, real timid kind of guy,” he said, “but the weird thing is, when he gets into battle he’s a whole different kind of person, absolutely ruthless when he’s fighting, so I suppose they’re both similar in the fact that their both strange, just different kinds of strange.”

Strazio looked away. He rubbed at the scar that ran across his chest, a grim reminder of his tangle with the werewolf. Maybe there was still lycan blood in the Godwin boy, not that Strazio saw that as a bad thing. You either had to be good at fighting or good at running to survive in the Moors, and well, Strazio was never a fan of the latter strategy.

Rockwell leaned forward and said, “so, let’s get down to business, what do you know about this Tarrasque thing?”

A moment of silence filled the room as Rumford took a few seconds to sit down.

“Not much,” he said, “I wasn’t around when it showed up for the first time so I’ve got little to go on except for rumors.”

“Well, what do you know?”

Rumford leaned back in his chair, “well, last time it was killed apparently it took a group of six or seven primes and they used a ridiculous amount of explosives, and they still came close to biting it, come to think of it I think Atelos was one of the primes that was part of that first group.”

“Atelos?” Strazio asked.

“Man you don’t know anything do you?” Rumford sighed, “you’ve been a defender for quite a while now and you don’t know who Atelos is?”

“Well who is he?” Strazio snapped, “must not be too fucking important because I haven’t heard of him.”

“He’s a member of the council, more specifically he’s the commander of the military branch, in other words he’s your boss,” Rumford said, “if I had to guess he’s probably on his way to Tarrasque right now with an expeditionary force.”

Strazio stood up, “well sounds like I need to hurry up, where is this thing at anyways?”

“Several days away at the Primordial Scar,” he answered, “but Straz, you can’t just go blindly into this, you’re strong and I’m sure your friend is too, but-”

AHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Gamzee’s scream tore through the building, followed by an incredible thud. Rumford and Strazio shared a quick glance before running up the stairs. Their they found the troll in a heap on the ground. Several feet away sat Rumford’s gift, the box now slightly dented and bent. In the corner of the hallway stood a young and frightened Rika. Rumford rushed over to her while Strazio readied his magicks.

“What happened?” Rumford asked, scanning his daughter for injuries.

She was half crying and answered, “I-I-I thought it-- thought it was candy.”

“What?” Rumford asked and glanced back at Strazio who merely shrugged.

The rage mage nudged his downed companion and asked, “what the hell happened?”

He rubbed the curve of his horn and said, “she motherfuckin’ suplexed me and bit my horn bro.”

Strazio raised an eyebrow and crouched down. Sure enough there was the faint outline of the hungry girl’s teeth imprinted into the troll’s candy corn horn. Strazio began to laugh and his magick fizzled. Rumford hugged the sobbing girl.

“Daddy, my teeth hurt,” she whimpered.