He could not remember, in all his long life, the last time he had so been made to 'pinky swear' in the fashion one child did with another over those secrets they deemed to great for the world to share. It was a curious gesture, one that seemed a near stark contrast to the sharp-tongued, defiant young woman before him and yet, in equal turn, it was near endearing that such childhood traits existed within her still. Some tendril of innocence perhaps not yet lost to a world so utterly determined to have her crumble. How very boyish he felt, and most surely looked, in that moment in which he took her finger with his own. That smooth warmth off her skin hardly ignored as she insisted upon that promise. Ah, but he already knew she would not betray him. He had already seen near each of those moments in which she might so lingering within her future and each time she chose otherwise. For all her brashness, her boldness, for her sharp tongue and recklessness and defiant determination to survive the world and those in it whom would come agianst her- she was a fierce friend to those she believed deserved it. As if each metaphorical blow agianst her only further united her to her cause to protect those precious few she had left to care for. Matteo himself assured he had seen his own place lingering within her future as just one such being and yet whether or not such a thing was to her fortune so remained to be seen for now. The Frenchman, as always, giving precious little away off those thoughts that turned within his own mind upon that uttered promise.
His words, when they came, perhaps more telling then he had intended in that moment and yet how quickly Harley seized upon that scrap of honesty that seemed to embed those accented lyrics. Hmm. She was an observant creature, dangerously so and yet that would only help her in time. Ah, but how very prepared she was for this very battle! How very ready. If only she might be made to believe it too. Belief, after all, was a terribly potent thing within the right mind. Harley, he was assured, possessing exactly the right mind for such things. More so then he himself. At least, more so then he himself had once been. How foolish he had been to believe he could save her when that corruption ran so deep. Perhaps he had been winning, for a little while. Perhaps had their friendship not already suffered the damage off hr illness. Perhaps if he had possessed the strength to end her himself when he had that chance he would not have unleashed Risque as she was onto the very world. To what did he have to atone? For his very life and for her own. For each and every being she had destroyed in her vampiric rage, for each life she had torn apart and he had failed to piece back together. Ah, but how very long that list might grow and how terribly depressive it so had a habit of making him. A mood that, for now, hardly seemed terribly useful. Harley, in that moment, readily rounding on him with that insistence she was not to be pitied. That very flash of fire within that violet eyed woman so prompting that flicker of a simper to his lips once more. How well she would survive it all. How determined he was to assure it. That insistence his guilt must surely be grand if it prompted his helping her so seeing that simper return to his lips.
"I did do something very bad- but I do not pity you, Mon Cherie. Do not confuse empathy for pity. Pity is like sympathy. It is easy, because it comes from a position of power. Sympathy is feeling sorry for an abandoned kitten, an orphaned child or a dying man you walk past upon the street and pity in their weakness. You are not weak. I empathize with you....."
How easy it was to reach forward then, to allow his finger to reach between that softness off her face and so gently turn it towards him once more to meet her striking gaze levelly with that silver off his own.
"....because empathy is meeting the gaze of another on level ground and knowing that all that separates you is luck and nothing more. I ran away a very long time ago, I escaped, because, Mon Amie, I was very lucky and nothing more. Had I not, then I would be in a position just as your own right now. I am helping you because you deserve to be helped and because you are strong enough to help others in turn."
Not because he pitied her. That distinction, it seemed, important to them both. His hand so gently lifting away from her features then, those words as distinctly cryptic as always in just why or who or what he had run from. Matteo so hardly choosing to insist that had he not escaped Risque when he had his own predicament may well have been even worse than Harleys own. He had seen that future only once. A future in which he had lingered for centuries within that iron cage in Risque's dungeon. A pet prized beyond all. One that needed neither food nor water to live and as such simply found himself subject to torment upon torment for those crimes she perceived he had committed agianst her and would not forgive so long as that corruption gnawed at her heart and mind until there was nothing left. How easily his fingers toyed with that crucifix at his neck, a tell that so gave way to those deeper thoughts that Tetradore had long since spotted upon him and Matteo himself remained oblivious too. Harley's very words shaking him from that reviere of sorts once more as she insisted no one was keeping some ultimate score.Those very words seeming to return that sudden impishness to the frenchmans features once more.
"Ah, but fate keeps score, mademoiselle. This I know. Come now, let us speak of those whom most surely owe fate a debt."
Just what exactly those words were supposed to mean to remained to be seen once more. Matteo gesturing now to those photographs so laid out before him. The near ancient fae reaching forward to arrange those very pictures in a near pyramid of sorts, a hierarchy, for Harley to understand just where and how that very 'machine' of Syn and Risque so operated. A machine with all its parts and yet- how very vulnerable any one part might be upon its own. Matteo placing Risque at the top of that pyramid before moving to place Darcy just below her and Tetradore ever so slightly to the side and below Darcy in turn. Those pictures of Cobain and isolt placed even further down that list. Isolt very nearly removed from that pyramid entirely, several of those more trusted or favoured vampiric staff placed then, several were cats added to that picture before Nathaniel himself was placed off to the side. That a picture he so intended to query the woman beside him upon before the night was over and yet for now his focus remained upon those more present players. Harley commenting upon the sheer amount of men that seemed to dominant Risque's collection. That soft chuckle finding him once more.
"It is because men, for the most part, are easier to control- but I think harem is a good word. Though she only sleeps with a few of them and to my knowledge only with one regularly."
One eye lifted just so, as if those very words were a near teasing stab of sorts at Risque's distinctly....loose morals when it came to those more intimate relationships. Matteo so moving to point to that picture of Darcy then. Harley seeming near decidedly assured off her odds if 'puppy lover' and 'dead eyes' were all she truly had to worry for. Ah, but he would amuse Aiden with this story later! Matteo allowing that faint roll off his own eyes all the same if only for how decidedly well she underestimated both those very men. Whatever words he had so been about to offer given pause upon his lips at her query on whether or not, now turned, Risque would be inclined to leave her be. The fint hopefulness within her voice so hardy missed, delicate and fragile though it was. His features softening once more as he so reached to hand her another shot glass of that spiced gin in its near ironic christmas glory.
"She exists in your future, Mon Cherie. I will not lie and tell you otherwise. She may, in time, grow bored with you and provide you some reprieve but that time will not come yet or soon- but she will not expect you to be so prepared as you are in the least. All hope is not lost."
How careful he was with those very accented words, that bad news of sorts contorted to offer her hope all the same, to remind her once more that this was not a losing fight no matter how poor those odds. Tetradore had lasted for twenty years so far. Surely Harley might do the same- if her temper could be.....tempered.
"In truth, I do not know if this is about Nathaniel. Shocking though it may be, I do not know all things I am at pains to admit. Do you believe this is about Nathaniel?"
His gaze fell readily to her own then, affording her that chance to speak about that man whose very picture seemed to plague her mind with thoughts. Perhaps, one day, she might be inclined to speak off him. Matteo assured he would be there to listen in that moment and yet, for now, he so allowed that talk to continue as he spoke more readily of Darcy and those whom would soon come to play more part in Harley's life. The raven-haired womans comment upon his name stealing that grin to the Fae's lips once more.
"Very good, Mon Cherie. He is, as his name suggests, a Blackjack player- and a very good one at that. Unusually- it is no affinity nor magic that lends him his skill. He is, simply, naturally, a good player and I suspect a card counter. I do not know his real last name. He runs a high roller table in a private room in the bar, largely invitational only. He makes Risque very good money. He handles much night to night running of the bar and has far more freedom than any other being in her harem. Remember what I said though, he is short tempered and excessively territorial- especially over her."
Matteo's hand shifted then to point once more to Risque herself. Harley paused then to consider those very words before insisting hot-heads were her speciality. Matteo inclined to afford her a near dubious look at her insistence they were easy to provoke. Sacrebleu! But it was as if she had not listened to a word he had said. Matteo's hands lifted upward in that ready gesture of flamboyant defeat. Why he had even bothered with such words he already knew she was destined to more then 'provoke' Darcy he hardly knew. Harley's near astute observation of that weakness however so prompted some restoration of faith within the man.
"She is his weakness, yes. As for him being her weakness- yes and no. There is no love left within that woman. She doesn't love him the way he loves her I do not suspect- but she does rely on him. More so, she trusts him- above all. She needs him more then she will ever admit. Until you have seen their relationship in action I find it near difficult to describe- you will see."
How bizarre a relationship it was. Risque so seeming to enjoying winding Darcy tighter and tighter and tighter if only to watch him explode. She fed that aggression within him, all but tormented him and yet still he stayed. Harley, he was assured, destined to witness that very thing in time. Matteo, for now, content to speak of the very weapon he had promised her to fight agianst that card-dealing evil. Ah, but surely he should not tease her so much as he did! Matteo near effortlessly summoning that distinctly dangerous looking gun to his arms a moment later. It's surface sleek and black and adorned in flames itself, that fire power clear in its sharpness, its lightness and the way it held. Matteo in turn holding that weapon with the ease of a being whom had certainly held one before as he so displayed it towards her. That gasp on her lips betraying her ready excitement that gave way to her equally enthusiastic words a moment later. Her sudden reach for that very weapon prompting its abrupt disappearance from his hands. As if he would truly allow her such a weapon of mass destruction! How readily that laughter found him then. Matteo nothing if not the very epitome of Fae in every sense. That slap agianst his arm only encouraging more of that warm, genuine laughter.
"I fear it is true, but your face was a priceless thing."
How easy it was, even within the depths of that despair, even when that table was so lain with the faces of those very beings whom might yet decide to destroy them both- to coax that amusement from Harley still and steal her mind from those darker things even if she had not, as of yet, so realised his own game in this. Matteo content to do as he had done for Tetradore fo so many years in that moment and so play that part off offering that...life and light and joy and purpose to a life otherwise blackened. Subtle though it might surely be in those teasing jests. That gun all but replaced then with those decidedly exquisite violet and gold sunglasses. The woman taking them from him then with a clear lack of enthusiasm before sliding them on. Matteo's own silver eyes rolling once more.
"No, you are not supposed to stab him, Mon Cher. In what is to come they will offer you more than they appear. They are very good, after all, at helping to keep out those things you may not want to see."
How readily he knew the very questions such words might impl and yet, as always, he saw little to no desire to answer them. Harley so attempting to strike a pose then as she turned to face him.The glasses, if nothing else, suiting her features distinctly well.
"Very ferocious, they suit you well. Try not to let Risque get ahold of them. Darcy however, will pay them little attention- and yes. It is a solid no on the machine gun. I have already seen what the future appears as if I allow you to have a gun and I am quite assured the city is not yet ready for it. Do not give me that look- you are trigger happy and you know it, oui!"
His hand waved readily then, dismissing her idea of 'testing' a high powered rifle should those sunglasses fail to prove effective with good natured ease before gesturing once more to those pictures upon the table they had not yet finished discussing. Matteo, this time, pointing to another vampire further down that list.
"That is Cobain, he is her progeny like Isolt. He is unpleasant as they all are but I know little of him. He is often otherwise occupied. Most of these others merely work for her, some she values more than others, some she would not notice if they dropped dead in front of her. You will learn quickly who will pay you attention, who will not and who will give you grief. This one though, you know. Tetradore."
Matteo's own silver gaze slid upward then to rest upon that picture off his own son. Some part within his very chest near inclined to....hurt to even see that picture upon that table now. That affection ever so briefly daring to linger upon his features before he moved to pick up that very picture.
"He does like puppies- and despite what you think of him Tetradore will be the greatest ally you have in that place. His story is not my story to tell, but Risque took him from his family when he was only ten years old and then burned them all to the ground in front of him. He has lived and survived a life that would shatter lesser men. He has been made to do things, see things, hear things and experience things no child or adult ever should and yet, somehow, he remains one of the best men I have ever known. Though he would hate to hear me say it and would never believe it. Risque has the ability to manipulate anything feline as I suspect you know, she will take your free will from you as she does to him so often- try not to judge him on what you have seen so far. What you have seen is her acting through him. Not Tetradore himself. He can teach you to survive better than any."
m a t t e o
it's tough to be a god
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