Usually, the were-creature had little concern for his state of clothing, or lack there of. He was so very often given his human form that the notion to fret over the latest fashions. That wasn't to say he had anything against clothing, he simply chose to enjoy the precious moments he had within his human skin. He'd thought that he'd have the roof to himself, just as he did most nights he chose to seek reprieve from his monstrous of a mistress. It was the only kind of freedom he got, the barest, teasing taste of the air on his skin and the moon in the sky. Now, however, with the demure young girl at his side he almost regretted not taking an interest in the clothes his vampire often chose for him., almost. He was vaguely aware of the pink hue that crossed her cheeks as she settled down beside him and briefly his hands shifted over his lap, leaning over himself ever so slightly in the smallest display of at least courtesy for her. His emerald eyes drifted down the street, a small frown marring his features though any embarrassment that he might have felt was certainly kept to himself. Choosing instead to focus on their morose conversation then the obvious desires that arose in such a situation as this.

The dismay that laced her feminine lyrics was enough to cause a small sad simper to cross his lips. "I prefer the term 'pet'." He commented dryly, not that it was any better really. However it was far more then the what the word 'slave' meant to him. Slaves always did as they were told for fear of punishment where as Tetradore was far more willing to rebel. He was willing to go against Risque when given the opportunity, willing to attempt escape no matter what the cost was. Punishment was a norm in his life, his skin already having bared the worst of her punishments. There was little left that she could do to him, or at least, so he had thought. His warning had been innocent enough, the barest shred of truth of the demon that he lived with. He didn't often take it upon himself to warn others to leave. Then again, he rarely gave himself the chance to actually get to know the individuals that perused the club scene. Even the employees were kept at an arms length. They were all dispensable to RIsque and that made them equally as untrustworthy to Tetradore. After all, why bother with someone who would be gone by the next month?

Tetradore had been entirely oblivious to the distress that this realization might have upon her. She had only just met him moment's prior and frankly he saw no reason why she should be invested within him in any fashion. It was such reasoning that saw a fleeting glimpse of surprise upon his masculine feats at her outburst, surprise which quickly transformed into laughter. It was such a rare sound for him, so much so that it almost sounded foreign even to his own ears, leaving his amusement quickly dwindling to but a simper upon her lips. "Your a feisty little thing aren't you, kitten?" He inquired quite rhetorically, resorting to a pet name rather then inquiring after her real one. It was a habit really, a way to not get too attached if he could help it - although if she continued to show up on his roof top rendezvous, he suspected such distance would not be something he could maintain for long. He shook his head ever so slightly, that musing smile still slightly pulling at his features. He could feel her fingertips lightly brushing against his shoulder, her touch was soft against his skin, bringing his attention back to her.

"It's fine." Tetradore spoke, effortlessly waving off her concern as if it was no more then a small bump in the road, as if his imprisonment hadn't lasted for the past sixteen years of his life. He tried to make light of the situation at times, if only to keep the weight of the helplessness, the hopelessness from crushing his spirit and his soul. He paused at her inquiry, finding that for once he was unsure of what name to give. Everyone in his world knew him as Tetradore. It was as if his first name was somehow some secret to keep safe from her even though he was certain she knew it. "Aiden." He spoke softly, it had been so long since he'd actually voiced those two syllables. So long since he'd heard anyone say it. For a moment, that realization was enough to drag him back though all those years of painful memories to that fateful night of his capture. To the last time he'd ever heard that single word voiced in a desperate scream. The memory that haunted him was quite thankfully brought to an abrupt end by the female's refocus upon a much lighter topic and slowly his vibrant eyes regained their focus on her. "Hm? Oh...no. They prefer patrons that can pay - but so do most places." Tetradore spoke with a small shrug. It was one of Risque's tactics. Keep him penniless, talented only in death and without a single material item to call his own and it made it all the harder to leave. It made it all the harder to create a life of his own.