death incarnate & night triumphant

Andras's mind was whirring quickly as his dark hazel eyes narrow in on that portal, the black mass entirely hard to miss in the middle of his garage. The possibilities filter through his head as Matteo confirms he hadn't used it. One of his inner circle could have readily used it and simply forgot to tell him, though there was hardly any fresh scents, the majority of that said inner circle having remained in Sacrosanct with the exception of Navi. Now was not the time to worry over it, though he continued to think on it as Matteo speaks up. Closing it quickly, he strides towards Matteo and gestures for him to move back into the house politely, "I must have left it open, nothing to worry about," he states as a reassuring smile spreads across his lips. Though, he trusted Matteo, he wasn't sworn to his court and he couldn't very well ask him for help. Truly, he knew Matteo would help in anyway he could and yet, Andras didn't particularly want to put the lives of his court and mate in someone else's hands.

Quickly changing the subject to Dorian, it seems to work as they divert the conversation from the worries of Andras to the seer's son. His comment makes Andras smile genuinely, his mind reeling back to the moment Navi pushed Dorian through. Andras had never seen Dorian so angry before! That impish Navi hardly caring what she had done, refusing to apologize at that. She needed some work, that faerie girl was an interesting one to say the least. "Ah, one of my court members pushed him through because he was so very... hesitant. It was quite amusing I assure you. Eventually I have plans to open Somnia to my court and their loved ones, it's something that I am working on with the reigning lords in Somnia. They are fickle and suspicious, they don't realize we have a safe haven for not only Fae, but for all supernatural folk," Andras sighs, his meetings with the local lords in a standstill. Andras very well could order they be accepted and yet, he did not rule that way, he would never force a hand unless in the most dire circumstances.

As Andras so apologizes to the Frenchman, Matteo simply waves him off, his next comment bringing a low chuckle from his throat. "I can't say I don't agree with you," he nods, "I imagine getting lost in a seer's mind could make one go crazy," he grins as he so makes his way back into the flooded kitchen. The water was merciful and had stopped after he turned off the valve, though he had quite a bit of work to do. Again, Matteo speaks and Andras glances at him, almost surprised that Dorian hadn't mentioned it to him. Nodding, "More or less, I don't rule like my father ruled, we are more of a democracy. Everyone in my court has the ability to express their opinion, to offer ideas and suggestions, I rule but not throw force. As you know, my father ruled on brute strength alone and intimidated his court into following him. They didn't respect him, they were terrified of him. I have made it my mission, every day since my father died, to burn away that fear within my court. As for the outside world that knows we exist, I maintain a fierce and ruthless mask, simply so no one will attempt war with us once more," Andras explains.

To the outside world Andras was the terrifying ruler of the Shadow Court, ruthless and cold, a murderer, a faerie who locked others in dungeons and tortured them. There were rumors across the world of him, this shadow of a man and yet, he would maintain that facade to protect his court. He hardly cared what people called him behind his back, what they whispered in the shadows about him and his court. No, he wouldn't mind it one bit as long as his court was safe. He's drawn away from such thoughts as Matteo's voice lingers in the air, a smile so stretching across his lips, "I couldn't agree more," he says as he walks through the flooded kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards to find a set of glasses. It was a miracle they hadn't been damaged! At least he was smart enough to turn his rage somewhere else other than the liquor cabinet in the corner, well, at least for the most part. A door had been torn off and a couple of bottles had crashed to the floor but he made due with what he had. Reaching in, he retrieves a scotch before beckoning Matteo to the only partially shredded couch. "Here, we can make the most of it," he says raising the unopened and fairly dated bottle.

Handing a glass to Matteo, he quickly pops the cork and pours to knuckle lengths of scotch, the amber liquid quite beautiful in the light. Pouring himself his own glass, he raises it to Matteo and clinks glasses to him, "Cheers," he grins before taking a swig. As the burning sensation washes through him, Andras can't help but sigh, his dark hazel eyes traveling back to Matteo as he sits on the couch, the shredded cushions groaning under his weight, though they hold, "Did you come here tonight because you knew?" He asks finally, gesturing with a hand to the destruction of the townhouse. Andras had guessed Matteo knew he needed to get the rage out, to take that anger out on someone who knew what they were doing, that could avoid the full force of Andras's rage and magic.

Andras Steinhello darling