Matteo

It's tough to be a god

His presence at that bar, it seemed, had taken the young woman by surprise as she turned to face him. Her figure jolted in that ready display of alarm before she took the God Lord's name in vain. A notion that prompted a faint simper to the Frenchmans features in a quiet and yet clear amusement. Ah, perhaps it did not matter how very old he got. That Fae predisposal to....mischief seemed to linger within his veins. Perhaps more than it should. After all, how many times had his own Father nearly begged him to 'act his age'? A notion Matteo was inclined to find foolhardy at best. After all, how did one act at an age they had never been before? Each year bringing about a new age to learn to 'act'. That amusement at his own thoughts so continued to prompt that simper to his features before Mira queried whether or not he had been there long, the young woman afforded a soft shake of his head.

"Non. I have been in the Ark for several hours but I have been in this seat only a few seconds."

That distinctly accented apology was offered all the same. Even if a part of the near ancient fae had taken a ready delight in startling her. It was, however, so hardly his desire to further alarm the young woman that had brought him to the Ark this very evening. Indeed, tonight, the Frenchman was wholly intent upon speaking with his son's girlfriend. A girlfriend he had managed to keep longer than any other and one Matteo was wholly inclined to...approve off. Even if he so hardly saw any need to offer Tetradore that very compliment. The boy would hardly acknowledge it all the same. Still, that very approval was layered within a distinct curiosity. Mira's future was undoubtedly untwined within Tetradore's own and yet....how curious several aspects of that future were all the same. How very much he had seen of the woman. How distinctly curious he was of those paths that lay before her. Even if she hardly knew how her each and every choice drew her closer one veritable destiny or the other. Some, Matteo was certain, were far more agreeable than others and yet-how often fate seemed uninclined to to approve of his...meddling. Matteo's lips parted once more, the Frenchman's words abruptly halted as a sequel of delight erupted from the young waitress who passed them. That distinct sound so readily coaxed a soft chuckle from the Fae as the girl hurried into the kitchen with the clear intent of spreading news of his arrival. Ah, but how distinctly...delightful the wait staff of the Ark had always been. Matteo, more often than not, inclined to indulge their girlish fantasies to some extent- even if only for the annoyance it seemed to cause his son. Tonight, however, there was distinctly little time to tease those young waitresses. Matteo was inclined to ignore their excitement in favor of speaking to Mira entirely. The young woman held all of his attention as he offered those nea riddle musings upon his son- and Tetradore's endless ability to sleep. How certain he was that that was perhaps his son's true talent.

The slender, feminine young woman before him learned easily upon the bar as she seemed to consider his very words before offering a near whispered insistence that Tetradore would surely struggle to make an entrance were he to arrive before the crowds. The very notion of his son attempting any form of showmanship so readily coaxed a soft chuckle from the Frenchman's lips once more. That good natured simper still resting upon his handsome features.

"Ah, Mon Cherie, he is not so well known for his entrances as he is his exits. When he was younger there was no one in all the city who slammed a door with quite so much force or passion. Oui, I suspect his record still stands."

Those near teasing words were offered with a clear warmth. That amusement still clear upon his features. Tetradore's ability to slam doors, after all, was very near legendary. A trait he had still failed to truly grow out of even if Matteo had long since stopped attempting to chastise him for it. The answer had been simple after all- he had simply installed stronger doors. Ones capable of withstanding a young Tetradore's furious and yet entirely passionate slammings. In the very least the boy had shown an aptitude for something. Sport or art or reading might surely have been preferable and yet- such things could so hardly be changed now. Mira's gaze so easily met his own then, the young woman insisting that Tetradore was indeed still asleep and hardly inclined to rise any time soon. Matteo so surely here to visit with him. That singular query prompted a soft shake of the Frenchman's head, his silver gaze inclined to linger upon her own.

"Not this evening, non. Tonight, if you do not mind, I am here to visit you, Mon Amie."

Ah, how certainly he had timed that very visit for a moment in which he knew his son was sure to be sleeping. Tetradore, after all, so often tended to....interrupt his efforts to speak with his girlfriend. As if some part of the WereKing was loath to have the pair interact. In the very least, he had failed to accost any cars tonight. The very memory of that event prompted a grin to Mira's own features before she insisted Tetradore loved those cars more than anything else. Matteo himself perhaps the only being capable of pulling off that veritable 'feat' as she called it and managing to live. A ready chuckle easily hummed within the Frenchman's own throat. His gaze lifting to Mira's own once more, those softly accented words passing his lips.

"I suspect he will forgive me- in time. The wait staff, however, I fear is outside of my control. It is my, how you say, incredible allure."

That teasing grin so hardly faltered, Matteo chuckling readily once more. The Frenchman so hardly saw any need to speak of that near shameless flirtation he so tended to offer the girls any other night he visited. The man was certain his 'allure' was surely the reason behind it. Mira's sudden offer of a drink, however, so readily prompted the man to hold out that shot glass within his hands as his head bobbed.

"Oui, gin please, put it on...Alexander's tab."

Ah, how certain he was Alexander would hardly notice a charge or....two to that very account. Tetradore was yet to ever collect upon that bill all the same and yet, just in case, such things were surely better handled by the Hunter. Matteo moved to lean near casually upon that counter then, then Frenchman inclined to merely watch Mira as she worked before reaching to take back that offered shot.That gin downed in a singular motion- the glass pushed back towards her with the clear insistence he so desired another. His tolerance for alcohol, after so many years, was...exceedingly high. The near ancient Fae so hardly paused to consider how many of those years were a veritable...abuse of that substance. The young woman's sudden query in regards to his presence here, however, along with his dedication to boating so readily coaxed that smile to his lips once more.

"Ah, I fear I do not 'boat' very often anymore. They are slow and....limited. My family is also not so...willing to let me drive them."

Matteo's features shifted into a frown of sorts, as if the very reason why no one within his family was willing to allow him to drive any kind of vehicle was baffling to the man. The Frenchman was eternally assured of his own skill when it came to steering. He moved to reach for that second shot then, Matteo, this time, inclined to merely sap at that contents, his tongue brushing over his lips in clear appreciation of the liquor before resting that shot glass upon the bench in front of him. That distinctly casual air so hardly faltered as he eyed the young woman before him. Those simple, casual talks, after all, were so often far more revealing than anything more...serious.

"I suspected you might enjoy my company tonight, as you said. The time shall surely pass faster with good conversation, non? Besides, we do not so often get to speak to one another and you have been with Aidun longer than any other."

His son's ability with women was a distinctly...variable thing. Tetradore so rarely showed any interest in women, let alone enough to form any sort of relationship. A notion that was hardly his own fault and yet- that he had managed to keep Mira for so very long was a distinct...oddity. One Matteo found himself distinctly pleased for all the same. Yet, a singular, near potent question still existed within the Frenchmans mind. Even if he had foreseen that very interaction long before it had taken place. Rather, it was Mira's thoughts upon it that perhaps intrigued him most.

"How did it go, Mon Cherie, when you took Aidun to meet your family?"