#andreasstarter

Nobody brings a bong to an interview who was planning on getting an actual job, it wasn't Alek's fault, he had brain damage or something. He'd had surgery or whatever, plus he didn't want to; fuck work. If he went home though it'd be to an empty place, Kayce actually had to go into the shop lately. Alek ripped a fat one before he exhaled and just about coughed up a lung. Still weezy, he grinned with a set of red, glossy eyes when he saw his brother. Or the guy that looked like his brother, whatever it was. "Hey man." Alek said as he held up the bong for the other to take, "Do archdruids still smoke?"

The room assignment left something to be desired, was there no budget? Atlas would have to do something about that, he wasn’t going to spend his days in a dusty tomb when there was sunlight literally on the other side of this wall. For now he’d have to bring in some ring lights, brighten this place up, if he was going to film in here for his upcoming: twink gets destroyed by roman gladiator series, people would need to be able to see the angles. There were a lot of shadows in here. “Excuse me.” Atlas said, “Pretty sure you can’t just walk into someone’s room unannounced.” The druid said as he looked the lanky figure up and down, he was hot but clearly bottom coded. Disappointing. 

Black veins lined his arms as they throbbed with the blood that pulsed through the lycan's body. The pale skin of something long dead, an alpha's fangs in the place of where a man's teeth ought to be. Incensed by the dark, putrid rot that twisted with him, patches of fur littered his hardened, bloody frame. A volatile at the head of an army of lycans, a city that burned around him, and Zahrya's ambrosia firmly fixed at the center of his being. Mania and shadow clouded his mind, Alek had been fighting the violence that lurched within for months, darkness sewn by The Eye that was meant to be under his control. Nights where he'd dream of blood under his nails were just dreams, even if he'd awake somewhere from his bed with the fragmented memory of iron on his tongue.

Alek still remembered the screams that had come from the farmhouse, the brutality of The Eye's arena, the taste of lycan meat and ichor as it swam past his gums. A truth: Sanem wasn't the monster, he was. A spiteful kid that made every wrong decision and stomped on anyone that disagreed with him, the cruel smile of pragmaticism worn over the facade of someone who only cared for his own opinion. Rome would burn. The Eye would burn, the Lupo were family but family was fleeting and in the end they were just the means to claw his way to the top.

Now with the drow coursing through his veins Alek saw his true self so clearly, he glistened under the black sun as a boot kicked off the low wall that had fallen on him when the Pyramid fucking exploded. An eladrin drew their sword, a construct of fire and magic while summer's heat rolled off of them and with one deft hand he gripped the blade and grinned as it drew blood from his hand. The other tore out the creature's heart, its blood running down his chin, splattering his chest as it muddled with every other life he'd taken. A secret? Volatiles, like chimeras, could consume a soul once they knew how. Interesting messaging from the drow, those he devoured would stay dead.

"You're late, brother." Alek grinned, the lycan's sharp senses could hear the sound of screaming coming from all around them. The panic as friends looked for lovers and families scrambled to put themselves back together. Lambs for further slaughter, the army of lycans still ran wild and if Lycaon hadn't joined them yet then it was only a matter of time. Claws from his partially transformed hand raked at his neck as he dragged long lines across his skin, scratches into his thick hide that healed almost instantly. All this power: trades and bartering, it was easy to find powerful allies that hated Rome, Lilith, Remus, The Mad King and his Court. Never again would the city recover from the ashes of its defeat, and all the world would come to fear the era of the wolves and the devastation they wrought under the black sun. "Looks like we managed just fine without you."

“We’re ready.” Alek said simply, it had felt important that they meet one another in person. Months of exchanging information via Andreas’…. Lizard thing had left the volatile wanting to see the archdruid what might very well be a final time. The last occasion for the brothers to break words before everything changed, before the lycans tore the city asunder and claimed it for themselves. An army of lycans had gathered, and beyond force they had intel on The Eye, on the senate, and various weak points that had been opened for them since this missive had begun. He was not afraid of drow or necromancers, Alek had learned enough about necromanteion from the defectors, and as far as he could tell the fey were just as eager as him to burn it all to the ground. “This isn’t the time to get cold feet.” Atop Palatine Hill, Alek wondered if Andreas was truly ready to turn against the senate he’d been working alongside all this time.

location: High Wycombe, UK

notes: flashback to nineteen year old Alek, if my math is correct he was 21 in these gifs. Idk Aaron is from High Wycombe and Daniel is from London but they’re close to each other so feel free to change the location because idk we never said where andreas and alek were from but they SOUND the same.

Someday Alek was going to get out of this town, he hated it. Resented every moment for as long as he could remember, it didn’t really seem to matter what he did because from the get the bar had been on the floor. Petty theft and petty crime, a stint in juvie before he’d gotten out and ended up falling back into the same old habits. He’d gotten used to the dismissive looks from his parents, where Andreas had their praise for how important he was going to be some day, Alek was just some human child. Useless to an otherwise dwindling community. Any attention started to feel nice, even the bad kind that came with acting out and falling into a bad crowd. Most recently he’d stolen a car with a friend and crashed it into a telephone pole, fortunately they weren’t pressing charges as long as Alek paid for it. 

“I could’ve found my own way home.” The man said as he fell into step with his brother, this was one of the rare instances where Andreas had returned home after travelling the world and getting circle jerked by a bunch of druids who wanted to cram centuries worth of knowledge up his ass. It was annoying, seeing him at all kind of grated on his nerves but it was offset by the fact that he was genuinely glad to see him again. How many years had it been? Alek stopped counting the periods of time between when he saw Andreas again after he left. 

location: somewhere in the woods

notes: 🔦 be lost in the woods

It was cold out. Unseasonably so. Alek shivered as he pulled his fall jacket closer around his frame. The last time he’d been out wandering in the woods hadn’t exactly been a stellar experience for him, now here they were and nothing even smelled remotely like anything he’d recognized. Except, well. “Bro we’re going in circles.” Alek said with a sigh, he pointed at a tree they had walked past three times already, “I pissed there an hour ago.” Leave it to Andreas to drag them out here in the spirit of bonding, only to get them lost. It was late, and dark. Just about pitch black save for the pair of flickering flashlights they’d had the forethought to bring with them. “We’re lost.” 

Alek would not be making this easy on those who chose to watch, the spectators had come for a good showing of this bloodsport and that was precisely what Alek would put on. Beating the lycans who’d crossed his path into the mud, their bones breaking beneath the weight of his closed fists. I hope you’re watching, brother, I hope you see what I’ve become. Alek would think, a grin pulled wide over his lips as the lycan grinned fiendishly into the brutality of it all. He enjoyed it, relished in it, and nothing was more comforting to him than when he looked up into the stands and saw Andreas sat within. The gauntlet ended, the tournament contestants were declared, and Alek found Andreas amidst the festival grounds. The volatile had been all but feral when the brothers had seen each other last, now Alek asked again, “Are you still proud of me, brother?”

Noise, noise, noise. There was so much of it. A baby wailed through the window as a couple of ginger kids pestered at their mother’s apron strings. He could hear their father barking for them to shut up as whatever sports game blared loudly over the TV. It didn’t remind him of home, he remembered a lullaby sung that floated on clouds, a song that had been echoed for centuries amidst a culture he wasn’t a part of. A place he didn’t belong. So much noise. Broken nails scratched at his skin hard enough to draw blood as Alek’s tangled mess of curls hung over his eyes. He missed the calm. He missed the quiet. 

The night was silent when Alek emerged from the farmhouse, his elongated arms hung at his side as blood dripped from his partially transformed hands. Tattered clothes hung loosely from his frame, filthy rags he’d been trapped in since the night of the massacre. Moonlight revealed the scars that punctuated his skin, the burns had healed but bits of flesh were still pink and mottled from the phoenix’s wrath. It was quieter now, he could hear his heartbeat in his chest, winter birds in the trees, no, that wasn’t his heart. Alek recognized it though. That smell too. He breathed deep, his warm breath broke into a fog that filled the air in front of him. 

“Are you still proud of me, brother?” Alek asked through heavily lidded eyes before he ran crimson claws through his hair to push it from his eyes. Wide and wild, cerulean hues fixed on the would-be archdruid, Andreas. The audible sound of bones crunching as his arms and hands shrunk to human length, his claws receded into the overgrown and broken nails of the prisoner who’d only recently broken free.