Unfinished Business

[Strazio Rockwell]

Strazio’s gut tightened. There was a pressure in his chest building up like a coiled spring. Not only had Shang read his journal, but he went ahead and published it to the masses. The more he thought about it the tighter the knot in his chest became. Gamzee placed a hand on his master’s shoulder, hoping to calm his furious teacher. After what was only a few seconds, but felt like an eternity to Rockwell the levy that was holding back the torrential storm of his rage began to crack. In one glorious outburst that scratched his throat and reverberated throughout the compound Strazio Rockwell, Defender of Darkshire, declared, “fuck the goddamned children!”

“Woah, harsh my dude,” Gamzee observed.

“Indeed,” Shang added, and was about to add some more, but was interrupted.

“Enough,” Strazio shouted, “enough of this you silver-tongued thief, you did not win anything from me, but you did steal my property, and you will return it to me or so help me Omni I will obliterate you.”

His voice shook with indignation, his entire body quivered in spite. The pure audacity that was presented before him sent shivers of hatred through his skull. A memory, not forgotten, but long since catalogued away resurfaced in Strazio’s mind. Gilgamesh, the now deposed king of New Babylon, carried an arrogance similar in nature to that of Shang’s, except Strazio knew from first hand experience that Shang’s arrogance was no mere bluster. Those eyes that made their home in the sorcerer’s skull were perfect windows into the man’s lethality. And while that aura of lethality frightened Strazio he was far too pissed to give a single fuck. Continuing his cascade of threats and exclamations Strazio once again opened his mouth.

“And even if the Necronomicon belonged to Darkshire, which it does not, I’m the only one here familiar with its use,” Strazio continued his voice dripping with condescension, “so it would make sense that I would be the one to wield it in the coming battle.”