(Preshow) Preshow Facility

[Strazio Rockwell]

DOJO

Queasy was how the Syntech teleporter left Strazio. His stomache performed a series of acrobatics that drained what color was left from his pale face. He ran a hand over his belly, feeling the relatively fresh stitches. Gamzee materialized behind him and, after saying something that he didn’t quite hear, took off. Strazio glanced around, his head swimming with a chaotic jumble of thoughts. The place was loud. His gut hurt. The mage hurried through the facility and made his way to a restroom where he spent the next few minutes horking up what little food was left in his stomach. After his offering to the Gods of Indigestion he felt better, not a whole lot better, but he did feel better. He wiped a bit of blood from his mouth.

“Fuck,” he muttered and stood up.

As the mage wandered throughout the facility he kept to himself, only offering a nod to those that caught his eye. He made his way to the dojo, stomachache or not he had a new weapon to practise with. A rifle, Demetri’s rifle, hung from his shoulder. It was a Russian piece, specifically a VSS Vintorez, designed for use in sensitive missions where stealth was paramount. Not that Strazio knew this, up until his journey into the Omniverse he had yet to experience a firearm and they were still quite foreign to the spellcaster. He had seen Demetri fire it before, it was simple really, point the loud end at the enemy and pull the trigger. Strazio held the rifle in one hand, arm extended, and aimed it at a target.

*click*

Nothing happened. No bang, no flash, no damage. He pulled the trigger a few more times and then pulled the rifle back.

“Come on now,” he said.

Maybe something was plugging the barrel? A quick peek down the barrel revealed nothing except a glimpse into Strazio’s naivety. He sat down and fiddled with the various mechanisms on the strange weapon. Scar-covered hands, unfit for delicate work pawed at the weapon trying to find an “on” switch. Stomach pains mixed with ignorance brewed a cocktail of frustration that crescendoed into a lit fuse. White sparkles of energy danced across his flesh, an unintended side effect of his magick. The fizzling fireflies nipped at the rifle covering it with char marks. Eureka, a revelation struck the mage. Taking a few measured breaths he began to pour energy into the weapon, filling it was destructive magick. Once he was satisfied he took aim and fired.

*BANG*

A white lance of destruction tore forth from the barrel, crackling through the air towards the target dummy. Tremendous force crashed against the plastic humanoid, carving a fist-sized hole through the thing’s chest. All that remained was a half-melted dummy and an awestruck Strazio. He glanced at the tool of destruction in his hand and smiled.

“Alright then,” he said, “not quite how Demetri used it, but I’m sure he’d appreciate my twist on things.”