Birthdays were so often a precarious thing within the Were-King's life. So many had been lost, celebrated only by Matteo himself and those few days they were capable of escaping from the dance club that had been his hell for far too long. Those precious moments of freedom had been so fleeting, leaving Tetradore often dreading the hour he would have to return instead of enjoying that glimpse of the outside world he was offered. Today, however, was the very first birthday in what felt like an eternity that would not be spoiled by her. It almost made the man weary of what Matteo had to offer him today as if he was somehow anticipating things to go awry in some fashion. It was, perhaps, that singular thing that so prompted the Spanish man to regard that inquiry with far more gravity then perhaps necessary. Matteo's decision to swiftly glance over such a topic in favor of those Parisian tourist sights so aided in the frown that marred his features. Even so, it was Matteo's own gift of foresight that brought that hint of sarcasm to Tetradore's voice at his own efforts of veiled enthusiasm. He had, admittedly, little reason to doubt Matteo's certainty in this arc, even if he failed to see what might inspire such interest within him just as he had failed to see the value of that gift he'd been given.

Even so, he could hardly help that small grin that tugged at the corners of his features at the roll of the fae's silver irises. His head bobbed ever so slightly at that history lesson he was given and yet, Tetradore was quick to tune out his faux father's words in the same fashion he had done a great many times before. Unfortunately for him, Matteo had long since become accustomed enough to note almost immediately how inattentive he was. A chuckle resonated on his lips as Matteo's hand shoved at his shoulder. "I was too!" He protested almost good-naturedly, even if they both knew well it was a lie. The historical significance of some monument had never succeeded in intriguing him, even as a child he'd preferred those action-packed tales. Even so, the silence that fell between them in the wake of such teasing was altogether comfortable, the warmth in the room from the hearth equally so and for a moment, even Tetradore was struck with how terribly...tranquil life was here. It was such a stark contrast to everything he'd ever had that it almost produced that ache within him, that desire to stay once more infiltrating his thoughts, even though he knew well the impossibility of it all. Tetradore leaned back against the headrest, his emerald eyes fluttering closed as he so wrestled with those futile hopes, pushing them back down and away from his immediate thoughts.

His gaze flickered open at Matteo's soft insistence that breakfast was surely awaiting them downstairs. The request not to get lost near immediately brought a rebuke to his lips, one that he was sure was lost upon the Frenchman as Matteo abruptly teleported away from his bed. A grumble was muttered on his lips as he slowly pulled himself from the cocoon of those blankets, only to cross the room in search of some resemblance of clothing. That outfit hardly required any laborious thought from the Were, the man far more inclined to put on whatever his hands touched. It hardly took him long, in the light of the morning sun filtering through the windows, to find his way through the whitewash hallways and towards the stairs. Tetradore made his way down the steps, only to abruptly stop within the entrance of the kitchen to stare, baffled, at the decorated table and floating balloons. It was far beyond anything he had expected, much less anything he'd received since his youth. Any words that might have left his lips upon the decorations for him died at the sudden presence of a rather hyperactive dog. The canine's sheer excitement for his existence only furthered that glimpse of confusion on his features as he simply stared at the Corgi that all but tore through the room on his stubby for feet, only to tumble backward with his feet all but flailing in the air. That....dog...

Matteo's soft sigh drew his gaze upwards from the flailing canine as he watched the Frenchman right the dog back onto his legs. That momentary trip hardly seemed to affect the dog's near limitless energy, the puppy simply zooming around the table just in time for Tetradore to announce he was certain the dog was broken in some fashion. His eyebrows rose and yet, Tetradore said nothing further on the cinnamon roll, much less his tendency to nearly abandon his master in the presence of guests. Rather, Tetradore was far more inclined to seat himself at the table, providing a glimpse of gratitude for Maria and all she had clearly made for him on such a day. Those pancakes were the first food to receive his astute attention, Tetradore entirely content to fill his plate with the plethora of treats whilst he strove to answer Matteo's inquiry. It took him a moment to remember that trip to Japan, though it had happened some time ago. The very mention of it seemed to prompt a glimpse of surprise on Matteo's features, that very look caused an almost blank glance on the Were-King's own face. "It was...for one of my pack members. She wanted a sword or something." He waved off the whole excursion as little more than an afternoon stroll, even if it had been nothing of the like. Frankly, the whole thing had been nothing shy of exhausting for the man. Thank God they hadn't tried to take something bigger.

He could hardly deny, however, that he was intrigued of all Matteo had learned of his gift. It was a comment Tetradore found himself inquiring after before he set about cutting his pancakes and sufficiently dousing them in syrup. His eyebrows furrowed as he placed that first bite in his mouth, chewing on it almost thoughtfully as he listened to his faux father. "Planes of...existence?" That dubious look was evident upon his features and yet, if Matteo said it was meant to be explained after breakfast, he knew better to question any further. The Frenchman could be...particularly vexing when he desired to be and, frankly, that veritable feast before him was nothing short of delicious. He was entirely content to devour that breakfast. His feline had a habit of producing a particularly strong hunger within him and yet, Tetradore's very overactive nature, despite his tendency to prefer sleep, kept his physic particularly slim. It hardly took long before he had found some level of contentment and yet, it was even several moments still before Matteo gestured for him to follow. With a lingering stretch, the man rose, trailing after the French fae towards the staircase and deeper into the labyrinth of white that awaited him.

It hardly took long before Tetradore was sufficiently lost within those turns and staircases, the sight from the windows alone gave him the only hint he had of where he was. Herbert, however, hardly seemed perturbed in the slightest as the dog trotted along at his heels, entirely pleased that this adventure didn't include abandoning him. His eyebrows rose as the trio suddenly stopped, this door appeared quite the same as all the others they had passed....in fact, it looked just the same as every damn door in this God forsaken white chateau. The least Matteo could do, as far as he was concerned, as paint some giant numbers on the walls to know where anyone was, maybe add some tape on the floor, at least Ikea had mastered that whole moving around a giant maze better than Matteo had. His emerald gaze remained steady upon his companion as the Frenchman turned to face him binding him to silence in regards to the contents of that room. A soft sigh left his lips and yet, Tetradore nodded all the same, "All right. It better be fucking amazing though." For labyrinth level of security, there better be a bloody minotaur in there. He watched as Matteo flipped open a white (who'd have expected that one) panel beside the door, only to press his hand against the screen, prompting a series of soft sounds from the other side.

He trailed after the Frenchman into that unexpectedly large room, the sudden blazing of the lights showed him a glimpse of the sheer size of that ballroom, only for his gaze to fall upon the multitude of photos that covered each an every wall. Every free space covered in pictures - pictures of rooms, empty or otherwise. Slowly, his attention turned back towards Matteo, only to eye that impish grin with a rather unimpressed stare of his own. "You've hidden your hobby for photography behind a biometric scanner?" He inquired flatly, simply watching as Matteo's arms outstretched in an ostentatious fashion to provide him with some explanation of what he was looking at - teleportation sites. "Oh." It seemed simple enough, really. In fact, in a way, Tetradore had already done this, once...sort of. That very teleportation to Japan had occurred only thanks to a singular picture Regan had. Really, this should have crossed his mind sooner though he'd never thought to see the world with his own affinity. For so long he'd been confined to one city that to now have the very world at his fingertips was almost...overwhelming. His eyebrows furrowed as Tetradore approached the nearest wall, his fingers reached out to gingerly brush against the photo of somewhere in Italy. It made him, admittedly, nervous to consider how this might affect things. Would he be able to finally outrun her? With a treasure trove such as this? Or was that blood bind he had to Risque far more potent then distance could divide? What would happen if she called him and he was in Greece or France or...England? Where would he even want to go? Those thoughts tumbled in his mind an yet the uncertainty of it all hardly helped the unease in his soul. He said nothing of it, however, determined to keep any conversation of her from leaving his lips at least today. "Don't you ever worry that they've moved all the furniture on you." He half inquired, though whether or not he really cared for an answer was another matter entirely, deflection was a skill he had long ago mastered.

aiden tetradore