For so long, the emerald eyed man had been reduced to the role of a mere marionette upon the string nestled within Risque's hands. He knew what it was like to have his body disobey him, to be robbed of that very control and left to merely watch with horror as he so performed acts far too cruel and malicious for his once youthful eyes to even witness. He had been meticulously tailored to perform that role of her perfect pet, even if his rebellious spirit so often fought against that fate laid out to him. He refused to be her slave and, by proxy, so too did he refuse to find himself all over again at the hands of Cobain's unrelinquishing anger. The vampire boy at his side had always been distinctly different in that domination he so wielded. Where Risque so strove to break him, to shatter his will and his mind, Cobain was far more...predictable, simply utilizing the boy for those violent outbursts that so bubbled to the surface before dutifully returning to whatever task he had been given to complete. In more ways than one, Cobain was just like that father he knew the boy so abhorred - his tendencies scarcely holding a candle in comparison to the true depth of depravity within Risque's mind. It was, perhaps, that very knowledge of those vastly different creatures that stalked the halls of Syn that prompted Tetradore's eyebrow to merely raise in some vague hint of amusement.

His intensely vibrant irises shifted towards the vampire at his side, a soft chuckle merely echoed upon his lips as he leaned forward, closing that distance ever so slightly. The tips of those ivory canines so hardly perturbed the man - he'd been bitten enough times to become accustomed to their feeling. Oh, how very numb he had become to that fear since the last time he'd seen Cobain. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He inquired, his own baritone voice decidedly low as he watched the crimson eyed boy beside him. "To feel for a whole minute like you're actually in control of a single fucking thing. Perhaps we can play a different game, hm? Maybe this time I can show you what it really means to fear someone." There was a rare glimpse of darkness that passed over those emerald eyes, as if the very monstrosity that Risque had so crafted him to be peaked through that veneer of goodness that he so strove to find over and over again. He might have liked to see that boy upon his knees - to hear his screams, the Alpha well within his abilities to so clear the entire night club with his mastery of that singular, potent emotion. Maybe, it was time to change the playing field. He watched with a small snort from his nose as Cobain's gaze shifted, the man so desperately seeming to seek that glass of blood. Really - he drank the substance as if it was as intoxicating as the liquor Tetradore himself favored. For a man so against crutches, Cobain was certainly not without ones of his own.

His head shook ever so slightly, as his own emerald irises skirted towards those multi colored bottles that lined the very wall of that bar, the Alpha entirely willing to let that silence persist, all the while equally as unaware that the pair of men had hardly gone unnoticed by the very Mistress of the Night. That saccharine sweet voice so quickly captured Tetradore's attention, his emerald eyes turned astutely towards her and yet he saw little reason to offer her any sort of verbal response. He watched in mere silence as Darcy so effortlessly smacked the vampire boy on the back of the head. How long had it been, truly, since the four of them had existed within the same space? What a....delightful....reunion. Even so, he was, admittedly, a touch gleeful to see Cobain on the short end of the stick, perhaps the boy could use a reminder of just what it was like to be at the very bottom of that proverbial totem pole. He hardly shifted as Darcy moved to settle at his side, ordering those beverages for himself and Risque. Quite on the contrary, the Alpha was more than content to take a renewed interest within his own beverage and, by the same merit, simply pretend as if the trio hardly existed in the first place.

It was the soft utterance of a voice within his ear that slowly caused his head to turn, his emerald eyes narrowed ever so slightly at that simple suggestion that the blood beneath his nails was meant to serve as a reminder for all he had done - for the child who would surely be crying tonight when she discovered her father was gone from her life for an eternity. "Shut the fuck up Darcy, no one wants to hear your bullshit," Tetradore muttered in a clear retort and yet, he hardly rose to that goading remark of Cobain and himself as some sort of...what was it she'd called them? A couple? That very suggestion that he might hold any interest in fucking Cobain was enough to cause his eyes to roll as his cheek rested upon the palm of his hand. He saw little reason not to let the children squabble, the Were-King simply listening to Cobain's own jab, much less that suggestion at finding someone younger for the near ancient seductress. He most certainly didn't bother to point out that, out of the three of them, he was by far the youngest, the Were-King untouched by that immortality and the numerous years the vampires so labored through. After all, unlike his counterparts, he'd never taken an incredibly keen interest in earning his mistress' attention and most certainly wasn't going to start now.