Several drinks in and the liquor no longer burned Strazio’s throat. In fact, the harsh whiskey provided nothing but a pleasant warmth in his collarbone. He stared into the fire, glassy-eyed and half smiling. All things considered, he actually felt pretty fucking fantastic. There wasn’t so much as a bruise left on him after the crown had worked his magic. Even more than that, for the first time since coming to the stupid comet he was in his element. There was no army to lead. There was no egotistic princess to capitulate to. There was just him, a few friends, and a whole lot of skulls needing to be cracked.
He took another big gulp of liquor and tipped the bottle towards Elise, “Here, c’mon, stop being so damn gloomy.”
“That stuff does nothing for me anymore,” Elise said, pushing it away.
Strazio squinted, examining her through a drunken haze before saying, “Yeah, ‘bout that, I’ve been meaning to ask, but what are you?”
“Thought it was pretty obvious,” She said, catching some firelight in her fangs, “I’m a vampire.”
“Never heard of ‘em,” Strazio said, reclining into the grass, “That some kinda magus?”
“No, it’s…” Her voice trailed off for a moment, seemingly trying to find the right description before continuing, “You don’t have vampires where you come from?”
“Nahhhh.”
“Where are you from?”
“You wouldn’t know it,” He answered.
“Try me,” She said.
He closed his eyes. Where was he from? On the surface he remembered his home village, with the day it was destroyed so vividly present and unforgettable. He remembered being dug out of the rubble by Valerie, and he remembered learning magick and vowing to kill Damien Alabaster. These things were all incredibly clear and vivid. But, in the corner of his mind’s eye slithered other memories. Murky slippery things that had no desire to reveal themselves. He remembered a fountain. He remembered a depressing little shire that refused to die. He remembered an orange-haired sorcerer. These specters of memory belonged to both him and someone who was not quite him. It was a dizzying prospect.
“Well, I’m from outside the Crossroads, I’m not even sure how I got here,” He explained, “And to be honest, up until coming here I didn’t even know other worlds could exist, let alone ones where magic is practiced so freely, it’s a bit... unsettling”
“How so?” Elise asked, “Not a lot of wizards where you’re from?”
“Kinda, to learn magick you give up your place in the afterlife, when a magus dies there is no happy ending for them, they just stop existing,” He said, “Most people don’t wanna make that kinda sacrifice.”
“Ah,” She said softly, “But, you did.”
“Yeah, yeah I did,” He said.
For a while they stayed silent. Nico threw some more wood on the fire, using one of the burning sticks to light his cigarette. Soldiers talked amongst one another in hushed tones. Liquor was shared, stories were told, and above them all bugs died silently, their lives coming to a forgettable end.
“Oh! And by the way,” Strazio sat up, a sour look on his face, he jabbed a finger towards Elise, “You need to stop saving my ass, it’s gettin’ real fuckin’ old saying ‘thank you’ everytime I see you.”
She snickered and shook her head, “Then stop making me have to save you.”
“Now where would the fun in that be?” He said, standing up and stretching, “Oi! Gamzee!”
Gamzee stirred, “Whuhh?”
“C’mon, get up,” Strazio said, nudging him with his foot, “I’m feeling restless, let’s knock each other around for a bit.”