It had been quite a long time indeed since a woman had so complimented his confidence in any sense, the dark haired beauty before him offering those very words as if they were layered with those unspoken tendrils of a challenge all the same. As if she suspected his very nature to be little more than bravado or some falsified ruse she might pick undone. Ah, but how little she knew! That near impish simper so remained upon his features all the while. Matteo wholly aware that, beneath her own fanfare and sharpened tongue, she was attempting to understand him as so many often did. Perhaps she would succeed where others failed in those very endeavours. Matteo so rarely understood within his entirety and yet so few truly knew him in any real sense to be afforded such luxury to deduce from I'm just who he might be at all. If nothing else, however, he enjoyed the wit of the woman before him. She was quick, bold and unafraid to meet his nature with her own. A rarity in this modern world. How intriguing she was. How very greatly he hoped Risque would not ruin this one. Surely she had too much fire to break so easily. How very much he desired to help her and yet how bound he was by the very commands of the fate that afforded him his powers in turn. The near ancient Fae so refusing to allow but any of those internal thoughts to dance upon his ever-youthful features as Harley so took up that offered challenge with gusto before demanding to know off his own ethnicity. She was not, it seemed, the sort of woman to waste time on idle conversation or pleasantries. Those thoughts that lingered on her mind spoken readily- at least to an extent. The Frenchman assured a great deal more turned within the confines off her mind and yet, for now, he saw little need not to indulge her curiosity and offer that assurance off his culture. That easy chuckle stirring from his lips.

"Ah, Mon Cher, Quebec is an intriguing place yet there is nothing quite so grand as France itself. You will see it, one day- and you will know I was right."

That singular silvered eye lifted but slightly once more, those accented words tainted again with those unspoken promises of a future to come, though whether or not she so perceived those very predictions remained to be seen. Matteo instead so offering the english translation of that very word she so queried. 'Darling' it would appear, not a word she held any true familiarity with. The raven-haired woman near scoffing at such a thing. That amusement content to linger upon the Frenchmans features all the same. How young she was and yet- how jaded against the world all at once. Surely she could not be blamed, not when she had lived a life marred with little but pain and yet- how poor her former suitors had surely been to never yet offer her such a term of endearment when she was surely deserving off it. How far the modern man had fallen. It was a wonder any woman put up with such men as these 'hipsters'.

"I find nothing about you in the least bit disappointing, Mon Cherie."

Those very words were offered easily once more, his gaze lifting to meet that striking violet off her own in that singular moment, a sincerity of sorts interwoven within those lyrics all the same and yet, as always, he so hardly chose to elaborate upon it. Harley so declaring few men could handle a woman such as herself. Matteo quite inclined to agree. The modern man, it seemed, had lost all his nerve for engaging such women as this. How very much they were missing out on. Frenchifry perhaps one of the more curious names he had been offered in his time. Matteo inclined to merely lift that eye once more in a beguilement of sorts at such a moniker before offering his name- even if it seemed she would be ill-inclined to use it. That matter of tattoos so brought to the forefront of their conversation then. The Frenchman moving to peel that shirt from his figure to display those very inked designs he already wore. Harley, unlike so many others, holding a sharpened eye for detail that saw her spy those names within that ink work far more quickly than most. Matteo hardly oblivious to the fashion her gaze lingered upon his figure in turn, the woman making little effort to hide her gaze in any sense. Her boldness, it seemed, extended beyond mere words. How wholly refreshing in a woman That amusement tugging at him yet again and yet he saw little need tease her upon it, that soft chuckle escaping him all the same as she so fumbled with her words. Ah, but he still had it. He would be sure to tell Alexander of this. The near ancient Fae so offering the meanings behind those very designs Harley so appreciated upon his skin. His mention of 'sons' seeming to catch the young woman off guard.That impish look so returned.

"If I was going to, as you say, fuck with you- it would not be with my words that I would do it."

How easily he rose to the very challenge of that game of words they had both found themselves within. Those very lyrics so laced with that tease once more. Matteo nothing short of aware of all such words might imply or indeed the pleasure he might take from its consideration. His very species, however, seemed to ensnare the woman's attention now. His nodded in agreement to her assertion he was 'something immortal that could still father children'. Her very deduction that he was surely not vampire- but rather Warlock only furthering that intrigue upon his features. Another chuckle so rising within his throat. His head offering that simple shake now. Those accented words parting his lips as he lent against that counter with casual ease.

"I fear I am neither vampire nor warlock. Though it is no surprise you do not know what I am- my species is the rarest of all. There are few of us left. Vampires, especially, have a taste for our blood and they have been tenacious in their hunt of us over the centuries. I am a Fae."

There was little harm to be had in so affording her the truth of his species. After all, so many spent but the entirety of their lives without ever meeting a being off his own kind- surely she should be told of it. Even if he near anticipated some manner of mirth to be found in his admittance he was a fairy no less. Harley promptly declaring him to be a DILF but a moment later. A look of momentary confusion so adorning his features before the very meaning of the words seemed to find him. That rich, ready laughter falling from the Frenchman now, the grin upon his features widening all the more. Matteo so leaning away from that bench to lift his arms in a rather teasing, elaborate bow of sorts toward the violet-eyed woman. His gaze lifted to meet her own once more.

"Ah, but you flatter me. Say what you will of my confidence, but it has been a long time since I have met a woman so bold as you. I quite like it."

He rose easily from that mock bow within the same moment. Matteo nothing if not ostentatious when the moment called for it. The ancient being the very epitome of 'Fae' in every sense of the word. His figure leaned easily back against that counter then, Matteo reaching to slip his shirt back into place, that ready mischief that sound found the young woman's gaze hardly missed. Matteo once more given to consider how very much fun he could surely have with just such a woman as this. One so unafraid and wholly determined- even despite all she had suffered. How dearly he hoped she would not lose it. That very query of his 'god-complex' over such a tattoo and idea such might be a lover's quarrel earning his amusement again.

"He wishes- but my interests in that nature remain inclined towards women alone. He is merely a very old friend who I will take no small delight in upsetting. As for these hands of yours, Mon Cherie- I look forward to them."

Even if, he suspected, they would bring him little pleasure once Harley so undertook that task at hand, the cream promising to take the edge off of that pain and yet he doubted in its ability to dampen that pain to greatly. Matteo hardly choosing to consider such things here and now when that game of sorts was still in play. That talk so shifting toward those more feline matters then. How....unfortunate that she seemed to take such displeasure in cats. How vastly more difficult such a transition might prove. Matteo offering those very words of prediction all the same even if, he suspected, Harley had not truly grasped the depth of them or how precariously close she balanced upon that veritable edge. How many more victims would Risque take? How many more years need he follow in her wake to put back together the pieces of those she broke? Perhaps such darkened thinking held no place here and now. The Fae refusing to allow his features to give away those thoughts as he cast them aside. How close she was t discovering that truth- and yet how far all at once.

"I should hope I am more accurate than a cookie. Though I do like cats, yes. I believe I had one once. My chateau is rather large though, I fear I lost track of him. Something is eating the food I leave for him. I rather hope it's him."
That look of near curious bemusement seemed to find his features at that very consideration then. Harley inclined to insist that despite his pretty words she hardly found herself endered to the creatures. That warm simper that adorned his lips then entirely...sincere in its touch. Matteo's hand shifted upon that bench ever so slightly until the tips off his fingers so barely brushed her own hand in that fleeting, faint touch. The Frenchman so restraining himself from offering her anything further even despite that nightmare that so lay ahead. It would do her no good to fear the future. Some things were better left unknown. She would understand, in time, just what his words had meant.

"Do not forget what I said all the same. It will mean something to you, one day. Perhaps you might change your mind about cats."

Perhaps that very choice would be robbed from her. Perhaps it was not too late to interfere and yet the consequence for his own interference was worse. Risque had not known off his existence for well over twenty years. He could not risk her becoming aware. Not now. This a battle Harley need fight alone- at least at first.Matteo's hand so shifting away from her own in near the same moment. The Fae inclined to turn that conversation back towards that matter at hand. Those words returned to that far more intriguing game they had found themselves within, that striking young woman quick to seize upon that uttered innuendo. Matteo near inclined to see just how far she could be pressed. How far would she let him take that game before she folded? Harley content to draw out those words then as she considered just where she might like to have him. Matteo content to lean away from that counter again and follow her toward that chair that sat neatly away from the view of the shop window, the young woman patting that seat then before promptly declaring it to be adaptable. The Frenchman affording that chair an inquisitive look as he paused before it. That knowing grin adorning his features.

"It does seem capable of adapting to all the positions. That must be useful."

That singular eye lifted a final time as if near daring the woman to continue that very game neither seemed inclined to lose. That command to prepare her canvas met with a ready nod as Matteo crouched downward to begin undoing his laces, those shoes and socks removed a moment later and stored neatly at the side before the Frenchman easily took his place in that chair. Matteo content to fold his arms behind his head in that near picture of laconic ease as he lay slightly back.

"Your canvas, as you requested, Mademoiselle."

His own gaze continued to linger upon the woman then as she worked with that paper, her hands moving with a deft, intriguing quickness. How curious it was to watch another work at their profession. Matteo eyeing that sketch as it so begun to take life. She was talented and yet he had already anticipated as such from the rest of those pieces that adorned the walls. Her ability to correctly place those continents perhaps speaking to her intelligence in turn. For all her sharp tongue and quick wit the woman was no fool in any sense. Perhaps, as she said, few men were capable of handling her- yet such a woman as this was perhaps better off casting aside those very men to weak-willed to try to begin with- they would surely bore her in time. How displeasing it was that modern man had all but given up his love of a challenge. How Harley would have thrived in days gone by.

"Do you know of the French Revolution?"

It was a sudden question. Matteo leaning forward just so within that chair then, his elbow resting upon the arm as his head rested easily within his palm all the same. The near ancient man appearing almost boyish in that moment as Harley continued to work. Whether or not she knew a great deal of that revolution inconsequential at large. Matteo so often content to ask those wholly curious questions without, seemingly, affording any true reason for their interjection. The workings of fate, it seemed, a knowledge retained by Matteo alone. He waited only so long as it took the young woman to finish her sketch and turn that paper towards him then, displaying that artfully drawn map of the world. It was good. Better then good. The near ancient Fae content to eye it for several more moments before offering that ready nod.

"Your hands have proven themselves on paper, Mon Cherie, let us see what they can do upon flesh. I find myself ready for you."


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