i used to rule the world

seas would rise when i gave the word

That small plastic red cannon was turned over and over within his fingertips as those blue-green eyes stared down at the map in front of him. Each figure was placed with meticulous care, each and every factor carefully considered and yet this one was his last one before he was given the opportunity to attack those outlying territories or, that well fortified France itself. The game, though well known for it's strategic requirements, was still largely left to mere chance. The more armies he attacked with, the more dice he was given to roll and yet, the percentage of victory was all still relatively the same, as far as the Tactician was concerned. There was no amount of training that affected the outcome, no amount of money used to bolster his ranks. It all came down to the roll of fucking dice. Sometimes, it was almost infuriating and yet, truly, it was that margin of good luck that certainly allowed his oldest companion even the chance of winning that game. That almost smug grin upon the man's face almost assured him that Matteo was already well aware of the outcome of this particular move, even if the future was malleable by the same die that so vexed him. He could hardly help that roll of his eyes as he placed that piece upon the territory that would have been Serbia, those amassed armies quite near ready for the assault.

Alexander leaned back within his chair reaching for that cup of tea before nodding ever so slightly towards his companion, that indication that it was Matteo's turn was quite clear and yet, wherever the French fae had intended to place that blue piece he'd picked up was all but interrupted by that sudden hue to the man's eyes, one Alexander knew well. He was altogether content to simply sip upon that tea, waiting with near infinite patience whilst those visions of the future stole the Ambassador away from their game. Although he was hardly prepared for that declaration that he would soon have guests, the Hunter was not particularly bothered by that clear indication of Matteo's soon disappear. It was, however, those goodbye words of 'Happy Hunting' that drew the Macedonian King's attention and yet, any inquiry he might have had hardly left his lips before Matteo was simply gone in the fashion he so often was. How typical. His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as he reached forward, placing that fallen blue piece back where it had been before the fae had vanished. Tonight was going to be one of those nights, was it?

His bright blue-green colored eyes turned towards the window beside him, a small frown settled upon his features. He was altogether aware of that simple fact that it was raining out. After all, he had planned to retire to that upstairs loft and coax a fire to life within that hearth to enjoy the dismal weather. There was something almost peaceful to that gloominess - at least, when he was tucked away warm behind the walls of that cafe. Hunting, however, required him to go out. It was a prospect he was altogether displeased over, though something clearly was about to come through that door to make venturing worth it. His gaze fluttered but briefly towards the glass door of that cafe, that silhouette altogether visible even if he could not yet make out any sort of defining features of the individual. He watched as a hint of disinterest crossed his features as Frost stepped into that cafe, approaching that table with a clear hint of purpose, even with that questioning glimpse to his violet eyes. Apparently his accomplice hadn't anticipated to find him like this. Matteo's abrupt disappearance was likely made for the simple enjoyment the fae might find in Frost considering that odd habit to apparently play by himself.

Alexander could hardly help that roll of his eyes and yet, he hardly bothered to correct the equine or inform him of the truth of that game the man had quite near walked in on. "Yes, there arn't enough real wars in the world." He commented rather simply, the Hunter intently aware of that piece his steed had picked up if only to ensure it returned to its proper spot. After all, Matteo and Alex were hardly ones to leave a game unfinished, even if it took them months or years to move those pieces around the board between the other ongoings in their lives. Matteo would be back, of that, Alex was certain of. He was hardly surprised by that fashion in which Frost turned quickly to that very purpose to his existence within the cafe so particularly late at night and yet, the sheer mention of Xerxes and his Immortals was enough to cause his eyebrows to furrow. That so called army of the Persian man was hardly any great threat. Macedonia had all but demolished those immortals once upon a time and yet...now was not that time. Now, he had no one but Frost to accompany him in battle. Though it was certainly not impossible, he was well aware of those odds stacked up against his favor.

It was that change of tone that drew Alexander's fleeting attention back towards his companion, that mention of his title was enough to refocus his thoughts upon the task at hand. "No...it does not. Do you know how many?" He inquired, slowly placing that mug back down upon the table. Happy hunting, indeed. Xerxes was a target he had no intention of letting escape, still, to kill the man would require either an attack from a distance, to prey upon the man's confidence so he didn't immediately run, or some sort of stealth maneuver to get him close enough to be taken with him. The possibilities were endless and Alexander was going to need a jacket...and shoes. He rose from that chair, the man moving with purpose towards that flat upstairs to fetch the appropriate clothing for hunting. "Do you know exactly where they are? Have you staked out where they're staying?" His thoughts were already a flurry of how tonight could go, the Hunter already contemplating the best way to secure his victory. Xerxes would not live to see another sunrise.