There was something almost...intriguing, about a woman who made an entrance. Matteo's silver gaze drawn away from those art littered walls to watch as the very woman from his visions rolled into sight. That faintest of simpers so tugging at his lips and yet, he so simply continued to watch her, that raven-haired, violet eyed beauty, as she rose from that chair with a distinct air of purpose to regard him in near the same fashion he regarded her. The world needed more women such as this. Women who were bold. Assured. Confident and yet not at the loss of femininity or grace. He remembered a time in which such women had all but ruled the world in the palaces of Greece and Rome and Egypt. How he had pitied the men foolish enough to marry them with the belief they might be controlled and yet too- how he had marvelled at the ability of those very empresses, queens and duchesses to command the respect they did and to so masterfully maneuver the political minefield of ancient politics as well as, if not better, then any man ever had. She, the one whom stood before him now, was just such a woman- of that he was near assured. How unfortunate that she should be born into the wrong age in history and too so much off her life tainted so darkly. Another he was far too late to save. Matteo so dismissing such thoughts before they might fully settle within his mind. That query on just what she could do for him met with that sudden insistence she was younger then he had anticipated. His visions so often failing to provide him a distinct and clear age off those he sought.

The young woman's suggestion that she was 'old enough' only furthered that warm grin upon his lips. The near ancient Fae allowing that soft chuckle to escape him then. Ah, but if only she knew how very young she was! Matteo assured she could be no more than thirty or so at the most. How fleeting those mortal lives could be. How quickly they aged. Too quickly he was assured. His own thoughts inclined to consider Aiden once more, the faintest of frowns so maring his features before he once again dismissed such things lest they take hold so completely. The young woman proceeding to offer her driver's license for his inspection before admitting that she was, indeed, an artist though whether she was the artist remained to be seen. A near wicked grin so dancing upon the fine lines off her features. Ah, but it was refreshing to meet one such as this. How intriguing his afternoon so promised to be. How unfortunate it would be if her impending.....change were to take away but any of that veritable spark. That simper upon his own lips lingering.

"I think we can forgo my inspection of your license. I trust you, I suppose I must, if I am going to allow you to mark my skin. You will do a good job though. As for my interpretation of the world, I do not think, Mon Cherie, we have time enough for my to consider that. We should be here all night if I did."

Those easy, accented words so found him once more. Matteo wholly content to assure her she would do a good job on that very piece she had not yet even started. Those very assurance offered within the rest of that sentence, as if slipped so casually in between in a fashion that might allow such a declaration to be passed over without question. The Frenchman wholly convinced that were he to consider to deeply his thoughts on the very interpretation of the world they might both be drawn into a veritable battle of philosophy. Such deep considerations were better left for Alexander he was sure. His companion so often seeming to find delight in considering the world in a fashion Matteo had always found...rather dull. Yet too- to merely tattoo the simple word 'world' to one's arm perhaps displayed a considerable lack of thought. The Fae so allowing one eye to raise in clear surprise at this claim.

"If he enjoys words so much he should have written a book, not gotten a tattoo. I suppose it makes for an easy day for you- if not a dull one."

A word, he imagined, was not a terribly interesting tattoo for an artist to create. Matteo reaching wordlessly for that book pushed towards him as if he had near anticipated that very action. The Frenchman leant easily forward upon that desk then to flip through those pages, his gaze lingering upon each drawing with a clear intrigue. The girl had talent, that much was assured. She would surely have gotten on well with Dorian. Her art similar to his own- in at least some aspects. Matteo rather assured his own son had never yet drawn a picture with quite so many skulls on it. The Fae so eyeing that piece detailed into the skin of a vampire then. A vampire he suspected was no longer alive. His future nothing but blank. Matteo turning that page. The woman's work was vast and varied, several of those pieces decidedly impressive, her work with lines equally so. His thoughts so suddenly interrupted by that query on his tattoo status. Matteo glancing upward from that book then with that near impish smile. Those words decidedly teasing when they came.

"Ah, Mon Amie, I fear I have not been a virgin of any kind in a very long time."

He lent but smoothly away from that table then, his fingers hooking within the hem of that long-sleeved white shirt he wore to pull it away from his skin and upward, sliding that shirt from his fit, toned figure easily to leave his torso bare and so display those two large, intricate tattoos he already bore. Matteo turning to allow her to see them both. The first, upon his right shoulder blade, was simple in its design and yet decidedly intricate in its detail. That anchor with a swallow overlaid atop it adorned with Dorian's own name across the anchor hilt. The second, upon his right arm was slightly smaller and yet perhaps even more intricate in design, near impossible so. That age-old compass interwoven with patterned constellations. Another name carved into those stars and yet that name was far more difficult to see unless one knew just where to look. An artist such as the woman before him likely capable of finding that second name all the same. That second tattoo for Aiden alone. Both of them masterfully done. The Frenchman inclined to accept little else when it came to his sons. Matteo content to leave his shirt off for the moment to so allow the woman to eye those works as she saw fit. Precious few beings, outside off his bedroom, ever so afforded a view of those tattoos. Each of them decidedly...personal in every sense. His silvered gaze lingering upon his new companion once more.

"I think, today, from you, I should like to see what you can do with lines. I think a world map will suit me, no words, just the outlines of the, how you say, continents- across both feet. I hope your geography is sound, Mon Cherie. Are you skilled enough for this?"

To throw the woman a veritable challenge, he knew, would surely be enough to inspire her efforts in this. After all, he suspected, she was not at all the sort of being to allow doubts of her talents to linger when she might prove otherwise. Matteo so allowing one eye to lift in clear expectation, that hint of a simper upon his lips before those final, sudden, words so left him.

"Tell me, do you like cats?"


m a t t e o
it's tough to be a god