Hop In Losers, We’re Going On An Expedition!

[Strazio Rockwell]

　　Strazio snorted and glared into the listless eyes of Solomon Grundy. The towering behemoth cast a shade of intimidation upon the furious mage. Grundy certainly was not a man, or rather creature, to be trifled with. The Defender’s mind drifted back to his battle with The Rock in Dante’s Abyss. Strazio could still taste the mud and blood that The Rock had forced him to eat. Even with this bitter memory the Avatar of Anger refused to be intimidated by the tower of meat standing before him. He huffed and growled, taking a small step forward to which Grundy responded to with a flexing of muscles.

　　“Do not think I am frightened of you,” Strazio spoke with the intensity of smoldering coals, “I lack fear.”

　　The fuming mage turned his attention to the pernicious dog-eared girl. She certainly spoke more than Cork, perhaps their shared traits ended in ears alone? Behind her eyes hid a certain resolve that Strazio could respect. Valerie had silently shifted to her side, his hands worked themselves into worrying knots. His green-painted fingernails wormed in between the soft green-stained flesh of his hands, an old habit never broken. Strazio huffed and spit onto the porcelain white floor of the nexus. Rarely would his anger be turned against Valerie, but the loss of his journal and Valerie’s obsession with obnoxious propinquity set him over the edge.

　　From the heavens came a startling screech. A grey-skinned teenager flew through the air with a trail of fruity liquid following him. Strazio watched in horror as the troll collided with the massive Grundy, only offsetting the giant’s footing by mere inches. A small splotch of residual Faygo splattered across Strazio’s cheek. The familiar saccharin smell of the soft drink sparked a fuming growl within the Avatar’s throat. With as much ire as he could muster the mage wiped the sticky purple drink from his cheek, covering his hand in syrupy liquid.

　　“Great, you’re friends with that fucking clown,” Strazio scoffed and smirked, “course the bastard made a good punching bag, do me a favor if you see him again send him my way, I need to blow off some steam.”

　　

“Now, now. You should learn to control your temper. It would be a real shame if we had to resort to violence, would it not?”

　　“Oh ho ho,” Strazio chuckled and pointed a crackling finger at Invoker, “you haven’t seen my temper,and trust me, you don’t want to.”

　　Alarming bolts of energy snapped and crackled off his flesh. The air around him was charged with energetic magick. A sickly grin crawled across his thin face, the pain brought a certain sense of power, and that power sent shivers through Strazio’s spine. It had been quite a while since he had felt this, dangerous . Shang’s theft had sent a trigger of aggression through his mind. Thoughts of destruction and revenge reverberated within his skull and manifested through his actions. He wanted a fight, he wanted to rip apart something worth destroying.

　　Valerie finally spoke with trepidation staining his usually eloquent voice, “I know how much your journal means to you, and I’m sorry. But, please do keep in mind what happened at Cherodill.”

　　The word seemed to hand in the air like an unwanted smell. It seemed to take some of the wind from Strazio’s rage-powered sails. He took a step back and lowered his hands. The sparks began to dissipate leaving behind the faint smell of seared flesh. Strazio scowled and looked towards the Pale Moor’s gate.

　　“Yeah,” he began to speak but paused slightly, as if looking for the right words to say, “yeah, I won’t forget Valerie. I won’t forget. Sorry for hitting your stupid frog.”
　　
　　“It’s quite alright!” Valerie clapped his hands together and moved in to give Strazio another hug. The Defender pushed him away and shook his head.
　　
　　“Still doesn’t mean I want you to hug me Val,” he frowned, “I’m still very livid, and I’ve wasted enough time here with you and your friends . I wouldn’t suggest that any of you bastards follow me, that is unless you don’t value your life highly.”
　　
　　With that final venomous declaration the Avatar turned his back upon the group and began to walk towards the Pale Moor’s gate. He had a skull to crack and as much as he wanted to continue his spat with Valerie’s friends he had bigger fish to fry. With a fluid motion he pulled the white hood of his cloak over his head. With nothing but vicious thoughts in his head he stormed a path to the gate. Valerie sighed at his pupil’s hostility, the kid could truly be a handful at times.