Zone C -- Megacity One

[Strazio Rockwell]

“Bro,” Gamzee groaned, “why’s you throw your motherfuckin’ hand?”

Strazio did not answer. The troll shifted, peeling himself from the asphalt.

“Bro?” he questioned, taking a glance at the set of bodies laid before him.

Well there it was, Strazio was dead and sad days were upon the poor troll. Gamzee crawled to his feet and brushed some dirt out of his hair. He scooped up one of his clubs and walked over to the fallen mage. Using the club as a stick he poked the corpse’s ribs. A miracle happened right before his eyes. The handless boy shuddered and coughed, and if there was one thing he knew it was that dead people don’t cough. The troll squatted next to his fallen friend and pressed a bloody hand against his master’s back. Faint breath reverberated through Strazio’s ravaged chest.

“Gotta get you somewhere safe,” Gamzee grunted as he threw the mage over his shoulder.

It was a strange dichotomy Gamzee supposed, not that he knew the word dichotomy, but a similar word crossed his mind. Just minutes ago the two were enjoying some good ol’ fashion vandalism, but now he was carrying his half-dead friend over his shoulder. Though he had never seen someone get their blood-pump forcibly removed before, so that was kind of neat.

Every now and again the troll would pause to gather his bearings. They were headed to the safehouse where they had met. There was no chance that they’d survive another fight, after all Strazio only had so much blood to forfeit. Not that he was doing much better, between his bum leg and the holes in his back he might as well have been on his deathbed as well.

“You’re one heavy motherfucker you know that Strawso?” Gamzee muttered.

“Go fuck yourself,” Strazio answered weakly, having grabbed the coattails of consciousness.

“That’s the spirit Strawso,” he said, “don’t you worry none, we’ll be home in no time.”

Moving C21 to safehouse C