How very...enchanting the Englishman was! How or why Sebastian had come to be in the company of his Father, or....well...whatever Matteo was exactly in this world- Dorian so hardly knew and yet it mattered little to the Monarch. His silver gaze drifted over Sebastian's fit figure in a clear appraisal he made no move to hide. The vampire was terribly appealing. It had been...months since he had taken a man to his bed. Women, after all, were more readily available to meet those needs and yet- how Dorian found himself considering but a plethora of ideas he might so desire to explore with the vampire across from him. That very admittance that he so hardly minded the idea of his and Sebastian's marriage in this 'other' world Matteo and Alexander had arrived from was quick to prompt Sebastian's own assurance that he was certain any other men who had warmed his bed before him would pale in comparison. Such claims! Dorian allowed one eye to lift in a look both surprised and yet amused all at once. How terribly much he enjoyed such boldness. Those accented words, this time, were uttered to Sebastian alone. "Those are terrible big claims Mon Cher, I should very much like to see you prove them." There was little need to toy around the subject, Dorian was certain. The Monarch entirely used to taking what he desired when it came to this very thing and oh, how firmly he had set his sights upon Sebastian. So much so that he had near forgotten his own Father and Grandfather- or the versions of them that sat within the room. Perhaps they were better thought of as Matteo and Alexander rather then the Father and Grandfather that they technically were not. Matteo's query on just what he had meant by 'we' seemed to draw the Monarch's attention, reluctantly, away from Sebastian and back toward the ancient Frenchman.

If Cesare's name had prompted that stirring of emotion within near ancient Fae, Dorian's insistence that his mother, Isabella, was still alive in this world seemed to result in a veritable outpouring. Matteo was wholly oblivious to the way in which he near rose to his feet at the mention of his lover. It had been....centuries since he had last seen her, since he had held her, since he had so much as heard her voice! That very pain seemed to strike potently at his chest. Isabella's death had left a veritable wound all those years ago- one that had never healed. Not really. One that not even the layers of time could truly coax to close over in any real sense. One inclined to bleed, in the metaphorical sense, at even that mention of her. God he missed her. Every day. Every single day. That she still persisted, in some form, in some way, in this world was.....unimaginable. Surely Alexander would not deny him that request to visit her, would he? Truthfully, Matteo was near certain he would have ignored his Father all the same. Even at the risk of prompting some warp within the future his presence might undoubtedly cause. Alexander, thankfully, so hardly seemed inclined to prevent his finding Isabella once more- that subtle nod the Macedonian offered Dorian hardly missed. The Fae King seemed decidedly...uncertain about his mental state and yet, for now, Matteo so hardly made any effort to argue that very point. Not when his own emotions lapped dangerously at the sides of the dam they had been held behind for years.

It was Dorian's sudden insistence that he had business to attend to first however, that prompted Matteo's gaze to shift from Alexander and return to his elder son. The very notion that Dorian so apparently intended to fight some sort of...mafia prompting Matteo's own eye to raise. The boy was hardly serious, was he? The Dorian he knew, while hardly cowardly in any sense, would most certainly not have made any attempt to fight anyone. Nor, for that matter, would Sebastian have let him. Matteo's gaze shifted near expectantly toward the Englishman, only to watch the vampire rise from his chair to join Dorian as the Monarch requested. This world was....vastly more different then he had perhaps given it credit for. Dorian's confidence so apparently stemmed from several centuries worth of lessons he had received from Alexander. Indeed, in that very moment, Dorian reminded him distinctly of the Macedonian. Alexander himself inclined to admit that such words did sound very much like his own. The Dorian of this world, it seemed, had spent extensive time beneath Alexander's tutelage. More than Matteo was perhaps inclined to admit was....sensible. His very insistence that Dorian at least not go alone was met with the Monarch's assurance that Alexander and himself could come- even if they had apparently died the last time they had attempted such a feat. The scowl on Matteo's features was met with an outright scoff from his own Father as Alexander's arms folded pointedly across his chest. This Dorian was very near inclined to treat them as if they were....liabilities in a battle. Hmmm.

"This is your fault you know, Alex. He is exactly like you when you were his age. You realise that?"

Those words were uttered to the Macedonian alone as Sebastian hurriedly accepted Dorian's request for 'tea'. Matteo was near certain that 'tea' involved no clothing and yet, for now, the Frenchman was far more inclined to tease his own Father as Alexander rose from the chair. Sebastian and Dorian already engrossed entirely within one another Alexander's comment of that very thing prompted a chuckle from Matteo's own lips.

"Ah, Mon Amie, it is as I said. They are fated to one another- in every world. Such love as that is....truly rare though. There are few so fortunate to find someone like that."

Did an alternate world exist in which Dorian had lost Sebastian, or Sebastian had lost Dorian the way he had lost Isabella? How readily such thoughts were inclined to tease at his mind as Matteo lifted that drink to his lips once more. The Frenchman had lost count of just how many he had downed in the space of that half hour or so in which they had been seated on Dorian's couch. His query of just what Alexander had taught Dorian that seemed to inspire the young King to head in battle himself was met with a vague shrug. Alexander insisted he had apparently taught him to be a proper King- before reaching to pluck that tumbler from Matteo's hands and place it on the coffee table with the insistence he had surely had enough. Whatever argument Matteo had been about to offer was cut short by his companions' insistence he hardly wanted to smell of liquor when he met Isabella again. A soft sigh left the Frenchmans lips as he moved to fall into step beside Alexander and behind Sebastian and Dorian- the pair seemingly having forgotten himself and Alexander existed at all.

"I hope you taught him to fight like a King as well, Alexander. I cannot have anyone else die or....not die...or whatever it is, on me any more."

Matteo's head shook lightly. The sheer weight of...this world was far more than he had anticipated. In every way. How very prepared he so normally was for but any emotion- Matteo near masterful at hiding those emotions from the world and yet this world seemed to play by entirely different rules. Ones he had not yet learned to guard agianst in quite the same way. Those streets they wandered down were strikingly familiar and yet...not all at once. Yet- even despite that plethora of curiosity that surrounded them Matteo could hardly draw his thoughts from Isabella and that notion of seeing her once more. The very emotion that surrounded her was...suffocating. How much he desired to say and yet within the back of his mind that need to return to their own world continued to tug at his thoughts. That vision had not been set in stone. Risque's thoughts were changing, shifting rapidly- how often it ended poorly for Aiden when she was in such a fickle mood as this. That future sight was easily summoned, the flicker of red within the Frenchmans gaze all that gaze away the use of that power as Matteo strove to 'check in' upon his younger son once more. That vision had rapidly shifted again. His words, this time, were uttered softly once more to Alexander alone.

"Alex. We.....we cannot stay here three days. I cannot see...exactly what she plans, her mind keeps changing, she is undecided. None of it is good but a plan exists within her mind, one far more....violent than the rest. I cannot let Aiden....suffer like that. If she decides upon that plan I need to intervene....we still have some time but..."

Matteo's gaze shifted from Dorian and Sebastian ahead of him to Alexander beside him and back again. How very much this world promised and yet.....how surely his younger son might need him. Perhaps......perhaps Risque would not decide on that singular most potent punishment? The future was hardly set in stone and yet- what if she did? He could not possibly allow Aiden to suffer that. He would not. That veritable distress at that plethora of 'what ifs' was surely clearly upon his features in that moment before that group crossed into the Western side of town. Matteo, for the first time, seemed to realise they had walked through half of the city without even one being reacting to Dorian's presence.

"Dorian? Why is there not an army of photographers and fans following you?"

The monarch turned toward him then, a ready grin upon his features. I am allowing only you, Alexander and Sebastian to see me. It makes public outings far more simple. The West is a veritable war zone, I bid you all keep your wits about you. Hmmm. Matteo could hardly deny it was a clever plan. Dorain's insistence that the west was a 'war zone' however, was hardly understated. The vast majority of that western side of town seemed as if it was rather...rundown. A small group of people eyed them warily as they passed, those streets filled with the sort of trashy cars that would have made Aiden cry as Dorian led them determinedly down toward the docks- the silhouette of the Ark rose agianst the sky as it always had.

"The Ark is still here?"
Hmm? Oh, it's a battledome of sorts. Evero owns it. Common thugs use it for illegal fighting and gambling, that sort of thing. Another, rival gang, often claims it. Watch your pockets down here. Dubios has a number of female thieves working for her, they will target men especially.
"Evero? As in Azrael?"
Does he exist in your world too? He is a Hunter but he has been rouge for years,the Council can't stop him and frankly I think they have given up trying. Dubios is a witch, a powerful one at that, they have been warring over the west for years and frankly I find it very irksome

Matteo allowed one eye to lift once more, his gaze turned toward Alexander.

"Isn't Azrael that fellow who is always giving Aiden speeding fines? The ones you keep having to delete from the Council system?"

Hmm, how vastly different that was from their own world. Azrael, it seemed, was far more inclined to criminal activities then his overly law-abiding self from their own world. It was Sebastian's sudden pause, however, that seemed to bring that group to a halt. The Englishman's vampiric hearing seemed to pick up what no other had been able. They were being followed? Matteo moved to pivot upon his heels only to eye a group of several men trailing behind them. The group, clearly spotted, made no further efforts to conceal their footsteps as they strode forward. Three of them. A short and yet muscular man with red hair was clearly the leader of that trio, his voice decidedly raspy from one too many cigarettes. You lot seem pretty well dressed to be 'round 'ere. Makes sense though. You got 'im with ya. The man nodded toward Dorian, the Fae King clearly having made himself visible. Just who he was so clearly recognised by those common street thugs. It had been...centuries since a 'thug' had stopped the Frenchman. Alexander surely, equally surprised and unimpressed by this interruption. That leader took another step forward, whatever he had been about to say abruptly cut off as several dark flashes flew past Matteo's own head to strike the thugs on either side of the leader- both men crumpling to the ground with strangled cries. Those jet black knives protruding from their chests.

"Jesus christ..."

Matteo was barely given a chance to finish that sentence before Dorian moved once more. The Fae King a veritable blur of light as he appeared abruptly behind the red haired man- only for his sword to be driven through him entirely, the tip protruding through the man's stomach before Dorian wrenched that sword backward, leaving the man to crumple, dead, to the ground at his feet before casually using his boot to wipe the blood from his midnight blade. How desperately few times Matteo had ever been speechless in his life. The Frenchman left staring from the dead men and back to his own son.Dorian having dispatched all three in under two minutes.

"Matteo? Why on earth are you looking at me like that? They intended to kill us and rob our bodies. All three of them were armed, the last man also possessed some sort of supernatural talent- I could feel it in his life force and I had no intention of allowing him to use it agianst any of us. Strike first and strike efficiently. None of these were good or innocent men worthy of mercy. That one in particular, were he allowed to live today, would have committed a terrible crime next week."
"Wait, what do you mean, next week? How do you know that?"
"Oh, I inherited a type of future sight from you when you died in this world. It's not the same as yours, it's more specialised. I shall explain later. We really need to get to the ark. Sebastian? It is entirely up to you if you are hungry and would like to have those men- their blood will be tainted with drugs though, im certain. When we reach the Ark there will be something better for you."

Dorian moved to abruptly turn once more before leading that group toward the Ark, that sword slung over his shoulder with casual ease. Matteo, once more, left staring blankly after him. Dorian was...unspeakably impressive, even if entirely unexpected.

"Alex. You raised a war monger. He's still not better than me though. I could have done that."

Maybe.

c'est dur d'être un dieu.