It had taken three years of rigorous schooling at Cambridge, an agonizing application to the Lincoln's Inn, two years of postgraduate study, and another two years of apprenticeship before Sebastian was successfully able to call himself a Barrister. It was a title he had been distinctly proud of to receive, much less the colleges and institutions he had gotten himself into along the way. It had been a shame, really, that his mortal life had been stolen from him only a year after he had dedicated so much time and effort to that once bright future. That singular year he'd spent in court was so far behind him, enough so that he almost looked forward to the idea of utilizing that age-old degree. He was unaware that his notion of how much he might enjoy that legal proceeding seemed to baffle his companion, much less how it had so warped Arlo's views of him. He seemed so triumphant as he declared that newfound discovery of the vampire and yet, that idea that he might hold anything similar to the negative connotations associated with that modern word prompted a clear indignation within him. His arms folded across his chest with an almost boyish pout on his lips and yet, in this, it seemed, Arlo was unwilling to relent.

His lips pressed together ever so slightly before the vampire rolled his eyes. "School was a necessity, Arlo." He insisted, quite near interrupting the fellow at the idea that he might have found school fun. It had been what was expected of him at the time and, naturally, he refused to disappoint his family - the once boy following faithfully in his father and older brother's footsteps, to a degree. "I was not." Sebastian continued, arguing that idea of a chess club or something nearly as mundane as a band. Cambridge's orchestra was hardly a band. His thoughts of such, however, were interrupted as Arlo rate him a mere nine on that scale of attractive appearances. A nine! As if he was not capable of being a ten! That very point was one he was more than willing to argue until Arlo mentioned those pictures of his school days. It was, admittedly, something he could not disagree on. After all, his social class quite near demanded as much and yet Sebastian found himself disliking that Arlo was at least correct on that. "Oh, Blimey! Piss off, you chuffed wanker." He declared, that English accent particularly strong around those British colloquialisms. That friendly banter and his inability to deny those points ruffled him enough to prompt that speech he often made an effort to subdue, even if his words were hardly laced with any true anger.

He was almost thankful, really, that Arlo's attention could be so easily redirected to the songs that were strewn out in front of him. That very request to help put them together was one Arlo took up with a sort of readiness as he recalled those nights he'd spent laboring over the lyrics - much less how the band received them in the first place. It was, however, those far more legal proceedings that interested Sebastian, admittedly, as he lamented over that contract Arlo should have but didn't sign. At the very least, it would have provided him with some idea of the legal rights they would have taken over the vampire's work. He hardly expected Arlo to actually have the legal document after all these years, much less that he had brought it with him. The pile of papers had certainly seen better days, between the stains and the creases, it was a bit of a struggle to read the first few pages. He settled back within his chair, commenting upon Arlo's hoarding habits as he flipped the page, only to be rewarded with a disgruntled exclamation, the very sort that altogether pleased him, considering how Arlo had so prodded at him moments before.
Sebastian glanced upwards from the document in his hand as Arlo recalled the drummer of his previous band, the vampire hardly anticipating that tale's abrupt end with a shout of alarm and some undignified scrambling effort to....escape? A blank sort of look crossed Sebastian's features as he watched Arlo scramble to his feet, only to go on about being robbed and seeing someone just appear within the living room. It was that singular description that stuck within him a simple understanding. His head tilted upwards, his nose twitched ever so slightly in an effort to confirm his suspicions. That scent, after all, was entirely unique to the elder fae, the very notes of that smell so called to that more cadaverous side of him. Oh the things he yearned for from the Frenchman! Things he knew well he could never voice or have - that infinite, never-ending love for Dorian quite near demanding as such. That almost casual assurance that it was only his father-in-law, however, seemed to prompt a glimpse of confusion upon Arlo's features, as if he could scarcely imagine this situation could be so flippantly reduced to 'just Matteo'. Nevertheless, Sebastian rose, making his way towards the living room only to spy the rather blushing Elizabeth so doting upon the Frenchman as she so often did.

Sebastian could hardly help that flutter of nervousness that so accosted him as he stood before his own father-in-law. The elder fae had an almost uncanny desire to please him in ways that reminded Sebastian more of his own father than anything else. It was, sadly, a task he had not yet found himself truly succeeding at, though, he blamed himself for the predicament he found himself within. After all, he had started off that very relationship with scolding Matteo. Arlo's soft comment prompted a ready response from the vampire himself before those pleasantries were exchanged. Sebastian was, admittedly, surprised that Matteo had remembered Arlo, to begin with, the band so often overlooked at such engagements and yet, maybe it was Arlo's own fame that had prompted such a lingering recognition in the first place. It was only after those very introductions were made that Sebastian made the effort to inform the fae of Dorian's own absence, one that Matteo surely knew of. In fact, the Frenchman's ready agreement only furthered Sebastian's unease. After all, if Matteo had known....then why was he here?

That very inquiry was answered but a moment later as Arlo inquired after that rather....peculiar briefcase, the very likes of sort hadn't even existed within his own era. For a moment, his bright blue eyes drifted down towards the briefcase, only for his attention to deviate sharply at Matteo's admittance that he required a favor from them. The very utterance of those words prompted near boundless suspicion within the Englishman. He was rather certain it wasn't money the fae was after, Sebastian knew how wealthy the Frenchman was an yet...he hadn't anticipated that it was venom that had prompted that visit. Venom. His venom. His own eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as his thoughts near tumbled over themselves. It had certainly occurred to him, the threat that almost seemed to linger within the depths of Matteo's lyrics. Much less how much the fae seemed to know of his venom's capabilities - the very venom he so often subjected Matteo's own son to. That very pride intermingled with his own concern, if only because he knew well what his venom was capable of when used incorrectly. That substance a double-edged sword when it suited it. That very silence seemed to linger within that room for far longer than his own upbringing allowed, prompting the Victorian man's sudden efforts to prompt...some conversation.

His own bright blue eyes shifted towards Matteo's fingers as they drummed against the arm of the chair, the vampire painfully aware of that soft sigh upon Matteo's lips. That very breath was more akin to...disappointment, the vampire winced at the very sound. That almost bemused look upon Matteo's features hardly helped that dreadful feeling that settled within his stomach. The answer he was given hardly provide the explanation he was looking for, though he suspected Matteo had done so with particular care. He knew it was entirely within his capabilities to press for that answer, that dance of words had been both his career and a skill near demanded of him within his own era. However, before the vampire could even offer a response, Arlo inquired after the very purpose of that blended venom. Sebastian remained silent, however as Matteo offered some level of reassurance that his purpose was, ultimately, a good one and yet...it was the very mention of an unwilling donor that prompted that look of consideration upon Sebastian's features. "Then there is another that can do what we can?" He inquired softly, speculating on what information he was given. Sebastian had never met another mortal being who had his particular chemical concoction, though he supposed it was not hard to come by with the right mix of chemicals. The whole thing left the far too logical Englishman with far too many questions that, he suspected, would never be properly answered.

Sebastian's gaze fluttered towards his companion as Arlo commented of how....difficult it was to prompt that venom to flow in such a way that it might be harvested. Admittedly, Sebastian had never made an effort to produce that venom on a whim like this. It had always been ready when he required it, his own hunting techniques often assisted in that. And yet...with Matteo sitting there before him in such a lackadaisical fashion, the very skin of his neck so....appetizing. Those two sides were so quick to flip within the vampire, near warring with each other between that feeling of lust and the equally as potent anxiety. That light tap of Matteo's foot against the briefcase drew his crystalline gaze from the fae down towards that briefcase in a small glimpse of wary curiosity. It was the sound of his own name in that distinctly French accent that drew the vampire's gaze back towards those silver irises. Sebastian had hardly anticipated that veiled dagger he had been presented within the wake of those words. His blue eyes shifted purposefully towards the floor, surely betraying the Prince's obedience far before a singular word left his lips. He owed Matteo, after all. The Frenchman had given him the permission he had requested for Dorian's hand, much less for that very happiness he so often basked within. What was a little bit of venom if it granted him a lifetime with the Italian fae? He had done much for his family before that he had neither agreed with nor wanted, his first engagement, for example, came to mind. Was Matteo not that now? Family? Was he not the only sort of replacement he would ever have at his own lost father?

His attention shifted towards the vampire at his side at that sudden hesitant inquiry. Sebastian almost regretted dragging Arlo into this with him and yet, the very least he could do for one of the few friends he had was to make that unsettling situation enjoyable. It was, after all, what he was good at. His gaze slowly shifted away from his companion as he held out his arm towards his companion. "Arlo....would you like to bite me?" At the very least, he was certain that offer would get Arlo's venom flowing far better than anything Matteo had planned, and far more enjoyable.