Unfinished Business

[Strazio Rockwell]

There he was, Shang Tsung, the most recent target of Strazio’s boundless well of hatred. For a moment the mage stood still, his mind smoldering and fuming over every transgression Shang had brought against him. Strazio was a dog that had actually caught a car, and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. If it was anywhere outside of Darkshire the hothead would have attacked him on sight. Despite their location Strazio fought back the urge to tackle Shang and smash his head against the floor. Sparks danced around his body and he ground his clenched teeth. With a voice that barely obscured his fury he said, “you know exactly why I’m here sorcerer.”

“Oh, pray tell,” Shang responded with a smirk, “I’m afraid you’ll have to elaborate, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Strazio’s eyebrows raised and every muscle in his body became tense. Electricity crackled across his pale flesh and he offered Shang the most withering glare he could muster. With a sudden surge of movement Strazio stepped forward. Acting fast Gamzee grabbed his master’s wrist, stopping his advance and turning Strazio’s rage impotent. The mage growled, cussed, and tugged at Gamzee’s vice-like grip. After a few seconds of fruitless thrashing Strazio pointed an accusatory finger at Shang. Acting like a reverse lightning rod the digit pulsed with energy and every few seconds a sheath of collected sparks would be shucked from their home and evaporate in the open air. 

“You, you, you,” Strazio said to Shang through clenched teeth.

Gamzee said, “come on, use your words bro.”

The mage shot gamzee a glare before turning back to Shang. “You fuck,” he said with such a vile emphasis on the insult that it seemed to hang in the air for a few seconds. This outburst seemed to dull Strazio’s edge but he still spoke with so much venom that he could taste it, “I’m here for my books, the ones that you had stolen from me in the Colosseum, return them and I won’t have to crack your head open.”

His previous battles with the sorcerer played through his mind, and although he meant what he said there was a subtle hint of fear in his voice. Shang was everything that he was not, skilled, collected, and calculating. This was how Strazio imagined his nemesis Damien, and that frightened him. It wasn’t death that frightened him, especially not in a place like the Omniverse. No, it was inferiority that plagued his thoughts, the very real possibility that no matter how hard he tried -- no matter how angry he became -- that Shang, and consequently Damian, were walls that could not be shattered. That his unfocused shotgun-like power was no match for the precision and lethality of the sorcerer’s rifle.