Second Encounters || McD/Ms AU

You're Not Supposed to Look Like That

He cut himself off as he got a closer look at the scene. The woman was beaten pretty badly and looked to be in a lot of distress, tears pouring from her wide violet eyes and down her pale, bloodied cheeks. She seemed to be holding a book close to her... Wait, from highschool...?

"Garrrrroth..." His brother drawled, shoving the woman aside slightly to advance on the eldest. The male's heart somersaulted uncomfortably at the sound of his voice. It was low, sultry and much rougher than he had ever, ever heard it before, even when he had been angry.

Before Garroth could take even two steps back, his younger brother had him pinned back against the rock further along the entrance of the cave.

"Interesting to meet you here," he continued, face darkening as he let a grin spread across his features. Garroth was caught off guard by his look of pure malicious hatred, directed towards him no less. "I thought you would be off still hiding in your pathetic little toy watchtower."

"Huh?" Garroth sputtered, absolutely taken aback. A very familiar confusion furrowed his brow, but one thing was absolutely certain; this was not his Zane. Either something very serious had happened in the last twelve hours since he had seen his brother, or he was... someone else entirely. After the several bonding moments they had both shared in Starlight, he leaned more towards the latter.

"Don't play dumb with me, brother," the Zane spat close to his face, more frustration rising into his already angry tone. "What are you doing here?"

Garroth fought his urge to back further away, because with this closer look at Wrong Zane's face, he could see tiny healed scars littered across his masked face. His eye was crazed and bloodshot, creased with years of battle and bloodshed. This couldn't be him, it wasn't possible.

Then why...

Oh.

The strange portal.

Had they jumped realities? Then that meant this Zane really wasn't his—

"Answer me!" The shorter male that had him pinned roared, making Garroth wince from the volume.

"Alright, alright," Garroth finally snapped out of his shock well enough to give a coherent response, hoping the shake in his voice didn't betray the unease from his new discovery. "I'll tell you everything. Why don't we start with..."

The blonde took a split moment to let his ears and tail slip out, only giving Wrong Zane a single second to gawk at the sandy colored appendages before the elder lifted up his legs and delivered a strong blow to the exact center of his stomach.

"A kick!"

Garroth didn't give himself time to register the Zane's breath leaving him in an unglorified wheeze, nor Emmalyn's shocked gasp as he rolled out from underneath his doppelgänger brother and made a break for it towards the near overgrowth.

"Hah! Kick... That was a good one," Garroth mumbled to himself shakily between pants as he made it further away from the site. Adrenaline was really something special, he guessed. As much as the shock and confusion made him want to collapse, his werewolf pace kept him going in rapid succession. The Ro'Meave continued careening through the trees, his ears flicking back to catch a few words from far behind.

"...Damn it... ...back to Phoenix Drop..."

Phoenix Drop?

The school? No, it had to be something else. If, judging by their clothing choices, they lived in a way that was more medieval, and there were copies of themselves, there had to be different versions of places they knew as well.

Well, only one way to find out.

Garroth kept on running until finally, he began to hear a noise. It sounded an awful lot like some sort of settlement. Then, to further prove his suspicions, a trail made itself known to him. The werewolf finally let himself slow down, breath coming ragged and strained, but didn't stop. He willed his ears and tail to disappear, and it took quite a while for them to finally obey.

A few miles later, there were forks in the road and signs leading to different towns. He of course followed every sign that pointed to Phoenix Drop, whatever that version of Phoenix Drop was. Ignoring the anxiety settling in his gut, he pressed forward until finally, the noise was as close as it could possibly become.

The eldest Ro'Meave brother emerged from the treeline, blinking from the sunlight no longer shaded by the canopy of trees, and found himself face to face with a dock. He finally allowed himself to catch his breath and take it all in.

Garroth was on the outskirts of, in the only words he could think of, a kingdom. The fencing, buildings, and boats flocked around the old wooden dock, all looked like they were straight out of a fairytale book. He could hear the distant hustle and bustle of townsfolk up and down the faraway streets, he could see trades between merchants, and he even tried to crane his neck far enough to glimpse the tops of the four watchtowers surrounding the town. It was strange. Incredible.

This definitely isn't the old highschool.

And then yanked out of his thoughts, Garroth's cerulean eyes met another's. An almost exact replica of him stood upon the dock, standing straight and defensive. He was wearing armor and had a sword, hand ready to grab it at the hilt.

Is that me? I look different, but the same.

For what felt like an hour, the only noises accompanying the tense silence were him and his look-alike's breathing and the sounds of nature around them. Finally his copy spoke.

"Who are you?" It was gruff and not at all friendly; so much like his and yet so different. Garroth couldn't imagine himself sounding like this. The closest thing he could think of is when he had a higher status in highschool. Maybe to a few people, this is how he sounded.

The oldest Ro'Meave brother opened his mouth, forming the beginnings of a coherent reply just on the tip of his tongue.