Alexander Macedonia

when I walk into the room there's nothing you can do
To stop me from making moves
I'm coming for you

The bright red hue to those usually silver irises hardly boded well for the future of the family they'd left behind. How well Alexander knew the stress of their...unexpected afternoon seemed to be effecting his own son, Matteo's drinking habits alone spoke well to the entire group of just how...poorly the fae seemed to be coping, particularly with Isabella's existence in this timeline. Still, it was the very importance of the woman to his son that Alexander relied upon as he made an attempt to reassure the Frenchman. He understood Matteo's desire to return home and yet there was distinctly little they could do. They were, for all intents and purposes, stuck in another world entirely. Their Aiden was lost to them - though Alexander had faith in the boy's ability to endure this time. That slight shake of his head only seemed to cause Matteo's brows to furrow in anxious frustration. That very look pained the elder Hunter, prompting Alexander to rack his brain for any memory that might prove fruitful for their current predicament. The suggestion that they might, perhaps, fight a witch to shave off a day, at best, was the only solution he could offer. The amount of magical energy required for ripping a hole in space and time was...astronomical - far more than any one individual could safely harbor. Even Alexander himself was not that powerful.

His attempts to reassure the Frenchman fell decidedly flat, however, that desperation within Matteo's voice so clear to the Macedonian. "Matteo," He voiced gently and yet, with an underlying hint of a commanding tone, "The man you raised is strong - both in heart and in mind. Aiden will be in one piece when you return and any wounds he's suffered, you will assuage. You will help neither him nor yourself stressing over what we cannot change. Right now, this Dorian needs us...before he runs off and takes all of the Westside." He gestured briefly towards his grandson's retreating form, the Dark Hunter hoped that simple...redirection might be enough to momentarily quell that concern that could so easily engulf the Frenchman. "You have not failed him." Alexander added, "...neither of them." How well he knew of Matteo's beliefs on such a matter. This the one very aspect in which the Frenchman was so exceedingly hard on himself, even when he so often offered the front that he was nothing short of an utterly exceptional father - better, even, then Alexander himself. Thankfully, however, those very concerned for Aiden were briefly brushed aside by Dorian's presence alone.

The Western side of town seemed...dilapidated at best, hardly the sort of place to be out and about after dark and certainly not for the King of Italy and yet...Dorian moved through the town utterly unperturbed. Alexander was well aware of that affinity in play, even before Matteo inquired after it. It was, however, Dorian's admittance that it was Azrael who had taken over the Ark that was by far some of the more surprising news. Azrael? The man named after a literal angel? He was nothing if not stringent upon his beliefs of right and wrong, the Hunter wholly dedicated to his craft, enough so that his witch girlfriend was a secret he tried to vehemently sweep under the radar. Tried...and failed. That he was now at odds with his own lover was...unexpected, to say the least. Any further considerations Alexander might have had upon the topic, however, were abruptly placed upon pause as Sebastian stopped within his tracks, his vampiric senses utilized to the party's advantage. The oceanic hue of Alexander's gaze followed Sebastian's attention towards the small group of men that had trailed behind them, clearly intending to steal whatever objects of value they might have within their pockets.

They hardly had much time to even acknowledge their apparent stalkers before a pair of ebony blades whizzed past their heads, colliding solidly into the chests of two of their would-be thieves. The third was impaled by Dorian's sword but moment's later with astounding efficiency. Slowly, Alexander's brows rose as he stared at the Italian fae in front of him. This Dorian had clearly been far more inclined to listen to those lessons then his own godson ever did! The King, however, seemed entirely unperturbed by the lives he so freely took, instead offering up those cooling corpses to Sebastian like a veritable feast - one the vampire turned down for a preference of a much finer meal. Alexander's lips parted ever so slightly in clear bafflement, the very dynamics between the soon-to-be couple somehow even...different then what he was used to.

Sebastian, for a moment, seemed to consider that blood offered to him, the very scent of it cloying the air to cause his saliva to become tainted with his own venom in sheer anticipation. Lesser vampires might indeed have been prone to ravenously consume every drop that now littered the street and yet...Sebastian could too smell just how...polluted the blood was. It's flavor would have been lackluster and while it would have satisfied his vampiric needs, he had little interest in falling sway to the drugs within their system while the evening was still young and promised it's fair share of...intrigue. Dorian's suggestion that far better blood might be found within the Ark itself, a prospect Sebastian thought doubtful, had successfully managed to intrigue the Englishman. It was enough to cause him to turn down the offer if only to take up that promise of something better later. The bright blue of Sebastian's gaze watched inquisitively as the smile upon Dorian's lips seemed to widen ever so slightly, the Monarch seemed to approve of such a choice as he promised it would certainly not disappoint. "I look forward to it, your Majesty." The vampire murmured, falling in step beside Dorian as the fae tossed his sword over his shoulder, the pair leading the way towards the Ark once again.

The Dark Hunter's head shook ever so slightly, Dorian's fighting abilities surely not to be doubted now that they'd finally seen the fae in action. That tease upon his lips, however, caused Matteo to snort, the fae so clearly goading the Hunter with the insistence that Dorian was better than even himself. A scoff left the Hunter's lips, Alexander hardly believing it in the slightest. Matteo's insistence that he was surely capable of pulling off such a maneuver himself caused Alexander to quickly offer his own rebuttal, the Hunter certain he'd hardly seen Matteo move in such a manner in a millennium! Back when there had still been wars to fight and battlefields to conquer! Their squabbling was momentarily interrupted by Dorian's sudden change of pace, the fae no longer willing to stroll along the streets of the West. The sarcasm upon Matteo's lips, however, went wholly misunderstood by the fae, Dorian continued to only increase his pace into an all out sprint. Alexander was quite certain he'd never seen the fae run for anything before! Much less towards battle!

A soft breath left Alexander's lips before his own pace increased to an easy job, the Dark Hunter entirely aware of just how....taxing such a simple movement seemed to be for Matteo. Really it served the fae right for skipping out on all those more physical training sessions with the rest of the Hunters - the fae hardly in the prime shape he had once been in. An almost knowing glint was nestled within the oceanic eyes as Matteo finally came to a halt before the side of the Ark, the fae struggling to conceal the fact that he was, somewhat, out of breath. His bemusement was hardly lessened even by the death of the Ark's guards, Dorian apparently inclined to be quite serious when it came to his need for...retribution? Alex's head shook ever so slightly as he stepped over those bodies, following Matteo into the clamorous interior of the Ark. How the boat had changed from even the reports Alexander had received of it, the place hardly similar at all to what he had expected. The interior of the Ark with little more than a gladiatorial fighting ring, with benches placed around the exterior, most hardly even utilized by the crowd that pressed closely into the edge, shouting the men within the ring onwards at each bloody strike they took. Above them all, sat a singular platform with Azrael overlooking it all as a mock Caesar in his own damn Rome. Alexander, it seemed, was hardly the only one to note such a similarity, those nights they'd spent in the bowels of the Colosseum were not ones easily forgotten, even by Matteo. "It's worse then Rome." Alexander near shouted back in retort. These....battles hardly seemed to hold the same sort of rules as the Rome they had fought in. The blue-green of the Macedonian's gaze swept over the crowd surrounding them, searching for any hint of the Italian Monarch and his soon to be Consort.

Deep within the boisterous crowd, another watched the match before her with equal levels of apathy. Sneaking into the establishment had hardly been difficult in any sense. Though her face was well known around these parts the guards had fallen easily to the flirtations of her assassinary concubines. The weight of her gaze was hardly focused upon the match before her, the stormy hue of her irises instead glaring up at the ebony haired man that overlooked the match with equal amounts of boredom. Fucking Azrael. The very sight of him was enough to cause her grip upon her arm to tighten. She'd had just about enough of his grunts and now, here he was, leaving quite before Serafina had the chance to make her own entrance. A single flick of her wrist was all that was necessary to bring her entrorague into movement, following the witch into the depths of that sand and blood filled ring. "Azrael!" Her soprano lit rang out over the clamour that surrounded her. The very sound of her voice was enough to cause the Hunter to pause as she challenged him for his so-called 'claim' to the Western throne.

Whatever the witch uttered could hardly be heard over those shouts from the crowd, at least, not from where Alexander and Matteo stood. That bright flash of light caused the Macedonian's brows to furrow. He knew Azrael's abilities well - his combined light and speed were his deadliest of capabilities, ones he'd seen so very few stand even a sliver of a chance against. Already Azrael was in the depths of the ring, content to take on the witch himself. Alexander's gaze, however, had hardly left the slender physique of the young woman so content to take on a hunter she certainly could not beat. His head shook ever so slightly at Matteo's question, "There are too many people between us and them...too many supernatural." His instincts were all but assaulted by information - witch, were, hunter, vampire....there were too many of them for him to filter through easily. He hardly had a chance to even attempt to focus on finding her signature amongst all the rest before the crowd fell eerily silent, punctuated by a voice the pair knew so terribly well - Dorian.

The crystalline blue of Sebastian's gaze narrowed as he eyed both witch and Hunter his Fated was so determined to take on. What Dorian had hoped to accomplish with a direct confrontation, Sebastian hardly knew, not when there were other...more legal ways to take out both parties. Still, it was not his place to question the Monarch's desires. Sebastian remained slightly behind the fae, watching both witch and Hunter with in silent preparation. Although he knew well what fate had promised him within Dorian, those possessive tendencies within the vampire were still little more than vague urges. It was a bright flash of light alone that saw Sebastian divert his gaze, albeit temporarily. His own senses were far too....sensitive for something so ungodly bright. The moment his attention turned back towards the Hunter, a sword had materialized within the man's hand, it's very presence prompted a small frown upon the Englishman's features. A light sword...how...fantastic. The very light beam could certainly be enough to be deemed...vampire killing, getting in the way of it very likely to be fatal to Sebastian and yet, he hadn't quite been prepared for it to turn so quickly upon Dorian. His own affinities were so quickly called upon, his very vision a wash with those vibrant red threads and yet, Sebastian hardly had to act before Dorian was tossed out of the way of that beam of light. Despite Sebastian's earlier...interest within Matteo, he had every faith the ancient fae would survive such a blast, his own attention far more focused upon Dorian as he strode across that short distance, offering the Italian a hand to pull the Monarch back to his feet.

Alexander, meanwhile, had equally as little time to react before the body of his son collided steadily into him, sending the Dark Hunter onto the sandy floor underfoot with a grunt. He could already hear the agitation within Dorian's voice as the younger fae insisted they were in the way. A soft growl echoed upon the Conqueror's lips. As much as he loved his Godson, and as much as he could appreciate all the fae had learned, he was still an imprudent boy to think they were somehow in the way in such a fight! Alexander climbed to his feet, half hauling Matteo up in the process. His gaze hardly left the battle before him, the Dark Hunter watching as Dorian threw his ebony blades, one shattering a large summoned chunk of ice in a million pieces before slamming into the chest of some bystander, Serafina so carefully dodging out of the way. Alexander's own hand reached out, his blades hardly bound by space and time so much as his own warlike soul. The first two swords that appeared within his grasp were distinctly Japanese in make, the katanas near perfect renditions of his son's Muramasa blades. His other hand reached out, grasping his xiphos as if it belonged within his palm. "You know the rules." Alexander muttered, even if it hardly needed to be said. Those swords, after all, so connected to his soul, if they were harmed, so too would he be in turn and yet, the Dark Hunter trusted Matteo with a steadfastness he did so few. No sooner were those blades handed off before Alexander leapt into battle. Half of the stadium had climbed over the railing and into the ring with a thirst for vengeance for their fallen compatriart.

Sebastian, however, remained closely at the fae Monarch's side, the pair so quickly swarmed by the encroaching crowd. He was well aware of Dorian's blades flying, his tongue licking at his crimson lips. Several bodies laid at the vampire's feet, their throats near torn apart thanks to his sharpened canine, one's heart was missing from his chest, the warmth of it nestled within Sebastian's hand while another writhed in screaming agony from a singular bite. How easily the vampire ignored it all, the now crystal clear pale blue of his gaze searching for just one soul amongst the hubbub. He brought that warm heart to his lips, biting down upon it, letting the blood fill his veins as his own affinities increased with their potency with each ounce of lifeforce he took. Finally, a flash of ebony locks flickered across his vision, prompting an almost smug simper across the Englishman's features. "Found you." He muttered softly, bending down to press his palm against the ground. Sebastian remained ever aware of the fae at his side, ensuring Dorian remained safe whilst he waited with the utmost patience. His head tilted to the side in consideration before, abruptly, Sebastian yanked at a singular red thread, one that was pulled taunt throughout the crowd, tripping several before wrapping securely around Azrael's foot, threatening to drag him down. Dorian, after all, had desired the Dark Hunter, had he not? Sebastian, in turn, was more than content to offer the fae the man upon a silver platter...or perhaps, in this case, a red one.