aiden tetradore

Lost sight of the man in the mirror
Following a heart of a sinner

Tetradore had never before considered the very ease in which he so conversed with the French Ambassador. The text messages upon the screen of the small cellular device a near-blatant indication of the close-knit relationship he had with his own father figure. Perhaps it was the simple fact that he'd grown up under Matteo's astute teachings, or maybe it was the very reliance upon the man he'd fostered somewhere along the way but, regardless, there was an intrinsic understanding between the two men - one Tetradore was only just beginning to understand the true depths of as Dorian commented just how utterly baffling their conversations tended to be. His shoulders lifted in a small shrug as he slid Dorian's golden-hued cellular device back towards his sibling, taking his own back in the process. "I guess it just....makes sense to us...." He paused his voice trailing off ever so slightly before the emerald-eyed man continued in an almost keen effort to give some sort of hope to the budding relationship between Dorian and his own father. After all, he knew well enough just how meaningful it was to Matteo, much less how much the Frenchman cared for his only fae son. "I'm sure, in time, you'll start to have your own....more personal conversations with him....if you ditch the whole....addressing....thing." There was an almost clear emphasis on that word if, the man almost encouraging Dorian to drop that distancing air of politeness the fae put forth in all things. After all, Dorian and Matteo were....family. More so than any of the rest of them. If anyone deserved to have some level of familiarity with one another - it was them.

He observed the slightly visible widening of his sibling's silver hued irises and yet, Tetradore near purposefully cut off that lecture he almost anticipated. Instead, the Hispanic man effortlessly shifted the conversation to finally providing answers to those questions Matteo's text message had left - though he suspected Dorian still did not fully fathom those curious words, the fae comparing those electronic games Tetradore so often enjoyed to the board games Alexander and Matteo so often engaged in. The comparison was poor at best though Aiden saw little reason to correct the fae as Dorian continued to inform him of how very unsportsmanlike Alexander and Matteo were prone to be. Admittedly, the Alpha was surprised that the pair had been reduced to rolling on the floor over some failed attempt at arm wrestling though, considering the country at the epicenter of that confliction, perhaps neither of them should be. Alexander had a tendency to resort to ludicrous antics over his home country. His head tilted ever so slightly as he listened in silence to Dorian's own observations - the fae nothing if not entirely astute in his conclusions. "I think....it is because of all those years, they might need such...ridiculousness too," Tetradore commented with a subtle hint of a simper upon his masculine features. He knew, after all, all that he had put the fae through. Matteo, he was sure, needed those moments with the Dark Hunter in which he could simply...put off all of those responsibilities and fates that played continually before his silver eyes.

The peculiar relationship between those ancient souls, however, hardly seemed to be the only one that weighed so heavily upon Dorian's mind - the fae inquiring of any knowledge that he might have of the tension between Dorian's husband and the Frenchman. His head shook ever so slightly, the Were-King ignorant beyond that brief conversation he'd had with Matteo of his frustrations. Still, he had every intention to ask after it if only to put those familial ties at ease. It was an effort to turn that conversation back to far more enjoyable topics that prompted Tetradore to inquire after Dorian's art. The very inquiry seeming to instantly prompt joy upon the fae's features. He watched as Dorian produced a white pastel, the fae readily turning towards the table between them only for that oil to touch the surface of the wood. Tetradore was quick to rescue his mug of hot chocolate as he watched Dorian sketch the outline of the flower, only for his fingers to tap upon the very surface. That touch alone near immediately flooded that white outline with bright, vibrant color - the very presence of it alone an indication of the Monarch's affinity and yet even Tetradore was not prepared for the sheer extent of all Dorian could do. His eyebrow rose as the fae reached forward, near plucking that flower out of the table entirely only to hand it towards the Alpha. Inquisitively, Tetradore reached forward, taking the flower between his fingertips only to marvel at the very realness of it all. The applications of what Dorian could create was surely astounding and, naturally, his first thoughts shifted to those hobbies that he favored.

His emerald eyes shifted upwards as he inquired of Dorian's capabilities not only to draw those vehicles, but also to bring them to life in a fashion that might result in them being functional. The idea of it seemed to stir some measure of consideration within the fae before Dorian announced he'd never tried before if only for how...unattractive those vehicles were. His lips pressed together in some subtle glimpse of dissatisfaction and yet, Tetradore said distinctly little of his own love for those vehicles, or how dreadful of an insult it was to view those automobiles as not pretty enough to be worth drawing. In a near-stereotypical fashion, Tetradore merely dismissed the whole idea altogether, the man far more often inclined to merely shut down such train of thought when it was clear his own interests were not entirely shared. The last thing he anticipated, however, was the fashion in which Dorian's head shook in clear disagreement, that warm simper never once hesitating as the fae simply insisted it was an idea that now required exploring, if only for the knowledge of how feasible it was. The fae's inquiry on whether or not he could drive such a vehicle, however, prompted little more than an almost contemplative stare from the Were-King. For a brief moment, he found himself considering the fae across from him, much less Dorian's clear desire to follow this train of thought when it clearly failed to appeal to him in the same manner that it did Tetradore himself. Still, he supposed he could not fully fault Dorian for such when he had quite near attempted the same with the fae's love for art. Wordlessly, the Were-King's head nodded in a silent agreement - if Dorian drew that vehicle, he would put that car through its paces.

He brought the mug of hot chocolate in his hands to his lips, the man listening as Dorian suggested his drawn vehicle being any shade but black. His nose wrinkled ever so slightly at the fae's insistence that black cars were bland - the Were-King clearly of a different opinion and yet, he said little in the way of an answer beyond that soft grunt behind that mug of hot chocolate. Black, he thought, was particularly sleek - that color right up there on his list of favored vehicle shades with the likes of blue and red. He was nothing if not entirely typical on those choices, he supposed. Dorian's drawn car, however, was not his to dictate the shade of and, in turn, Tetradore was willing to leave it fully within the fae's clearly capable hands. His vibrant emerald irises shifted only as another man approached their table, providing his sibling a small bow before the man began to speak in a language Tetradore failed to comprehend entirely. It was all too clear the man was speaking to him, however, the Alpha entirely aware of the fellow's gaze upon him and yet, Tetradore found himself merely staring blankly at the poor servant with little notion of what the man was saying at all! The weight of his gaze shifted towards Dorian only as the fae attempted some sort of translation. The fae's suggestion of titles however, hardly helped that blank glance upon his masculine features, Tetradore all but oblivious to those titles afforded to him thanks to his official adoption into Matteo's family.

He watched as Dorian settled further into his seat, that sigh upon the King's lips prompted his eyebrow to raise inquisitively. That suspicion was all too clear upon his features as Dorian set about informing him of that title passed down from father to son - a title that was destined to be his considering Dorian's inability to take it. For a long moment, Tetradore's silence persisted, those tremulous thoughts of his own adoption swirling within his mind. It was only his sibling's insistence that the title hardly required anything of him, however, that drew his thoughts from those conflicting emotions he felt. He pushed such worries of Matteo and his own father from his thoughts, instead merely shaking his head in a dismissive manner before the Were-King declared he simply didn't care what Dorian staff chose to call him by. That look of astonishment such a statement coaxed upon the fae Monarch's features was wholly unexpected. Those foreign words all but prompting that blank look to return to his features before Tetradore merely shrugged in response. Such prolific titles, after all, had never meant terribly much in that depths of that horrific dance club he'd lived in for so long. His emerald irises watched that glimpse of amusement upon Dorian's features as his sibling so insisted that he would see to the matter of the staff's usage of Matteo's title. Admittedly, it was probably for the best.

Tetradore watched as Dorian shifted in his seat, the man plucking from his own bag a book of sorts. His eyebrows rose ever so slightly as Dorian flicked through the pages, revealing the extent of his work. The fae King placed the sketchbook on the table between them, those blank pages revealing the sheer intricacy of several different motorcycles. Slowly, Tetradore reached for that art pad, glancing over the details of each of those bikes. He slowly flipped through the pages, eying each of those cruiser style bikes as he listened to Dorian speak of just where he'd seen the collection. Admittedly, Tetradore was hardly well versed on this...particular style - the Alpha much desiring speed above all else. He paused in his flipping as Dorian reached out, pointing to the bicycle on the page in front of him. That black bike was, admittedly, strikingly sleek. Those curves and contours alluring even to Tetradore, though it looked as if it hardly held the same power of his own Kawasaki. "You're pretty good at this," Tetradore responded nodding slightly towards the page in front of him. Compliments were distinctly rare from the man - that singular one he gave his brother rather meaningful for that fact alone. "You know they make wraps for these. You could have the whole bike gold if you wanted." He offered with a small shrug on his shoulders, the man attempting to...help, in some manner, even if he was sure Matteo would hardly be pleased.

He glanced back up from the page on his lap as Dorian spoke of his past - the man hardly surprised to discover that the fae hardly got along well with his siblings. Matteo had alluded to such once, though the fae had hardly ever gone into any great detail over the topic. He understood, admittedly, that basal, petty desire to have something better than those who had tormented the fae so. Life had, after all, changed drastically for the Italian since those younger years. "I think these would make your brothers jealous." He responded with an almost gentle simper. Dorian had a certain sort of...innocence about him that drew out those far more protective instincts within the panther, prompting him to, on the occasion, offer some sort of reassurance. "You could put it right in your giant ass hallway." He offered with a small hint of a grin. Although Tetradore was hardly the type to merely put such vehicles on display, if such a bike was going to be little more then decoration, it might as well be done right. That offer for food, however, temporarily pulled the man from his consideration of how such a bike might best be put on display. His shoulders rose again in an almost characteristic shrug at the offer of food. "Sure."