He was several minutes late. A habit not at all unusual for the Frenchman and- just as it always seemed too, that very trouble he was so designed to prevent seemed inclined to occur in the wake of his lack of astuteness on the matter. His predictions of that future never truly failed him and yet, as was the case this very night, the near ancient Fae had found himself caught up in several other affairs, time had been lost track off and inevitably continued to march onward until Matteo became near oblivious to its passing. At least until he had glanced at that wrist watch once more. It was with several muttered french curses at his own continued tardiness that the Fae had made for the Ark, the shouting that resounded down that street indicating that very incident he had foreseen was already occurring and rather then his preventing it, he had arrived with little else to do other than merely watch it occur. It was hardly the first time he had done as such. Nor would it be the last.

For several moments still the age-old Frenchman lingered within the doorway of the Ark. His presence was all but ignored by those last few patrons that stumbled or blundered out onto the street, swaying with alcohol. Matteo content to watch as Aiden held his hand out to the stricken woman and begun to help her to her feet, her cheek marked red by the hand of the drunkard who'd raised it against her. In all he had seen in all his thousands of years of life there was something still so painfully abhorrent in seeing a man raise his hand to a woman. His bright, silver gaze, concealed behind those sunglasses, watched that very man stumble away and yet for now he did little more then allow. There would be time to deal with such men later. The present was far more pressing. Matteo unable to prevent that slight softening off his features as Aiden begun to guide that woman inside with that insistence a little ice would surely lessen the aesthetic effect of that slap. How many times had he said those very words to Aiden himself? How many times had he bandaged wounds, wiped away blood, found ice or simply held Aiden to him as a child in some effort to lessen that very suffering in turn? How he thanked God each and every day that somehow Aiden has not turned out like her. For all his apathetic, guarded nature, his adopted son had become a good man. Even if Aiden would surely have argued that very testament. Matteo assured he felt something near akin to pride in that singular moment, as foolish and nostalgic as it might have been. Old men were surely allowed those very things even if Matteo hardly appeared a day over twenty five.

His own lean frame stepped easily back into the boat to cross that sticky, sweat tainted floor ahead of the pair. Matteo ducking down behind the bar to reach for that very ice he knew Aiden was but moments from asking for. The Frenchman having only just wrapped those cold cubes within that cloth as the Panther and his newest foundling reached the bar itself. Matteo quite unable to prevent that simper that found his youthful features as he rose from behind the counter to hold that very ice toward his companion in turn.

"Eétonner (Surprise). You require ice, Mon Amie?"

That very surprise surely painted upon Aiden's features was entirely worth his allowing his shoes to be assaulted by that abysmal bar floor. Surely Aiden should be used to his appearing without calling by now! Matteo allowed that soft, rich chuckle of amusement to fall from him all the same as that ice was handed over, the Frenchman leaning against the counter of the bar then, his head resting in his hand, propped up by his elbow in a manner decidedly laconic. Matteo perfectly content in the company of one of his closest of friends and confidantes. His free hand was lifted easily to his face, those sunglasses that concealed his silver eyes lifted to rest within that wealth of brunette hair as he eyed that young woman in Aiden's company for the first time. A pretty thing she was,, so young too. Matteo extended his hand toward her then to gently take her fingers in his own, drawing her hand forward to allow his lips to brush ever so delicately upon the smooth skin of her hand in that age-old greeting before releasing that appendage smoothly back to her with a dip off his head. The Frenchman the epitome of age-old manner and the time in which he had been born.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle. Fear not, Tetradore is a skilled applier of first aid."

He was careful, as always, to call the man by that name he preferred when they were not alone. Aiden's first name a secret Matteo had long since held and one he saw little need to divulge here and now unless the Panther chose to afford it himself. His silver gaze turned near expectantly towards Aiden now with that clear anticipation the man would see to the young woman's injury. Matteo himself continuing to eye the girl near curiously. How very intriguing she was.

"It is late for one such as you to be out, my dear. Why were you wandering the streets tonight, hmm?"

That he had not been there to see her wandering those very streets remained to be seen, Matteo affording little notion of how he had known just what she as doing, the Fae merely seeking to distract her from that very wound upon her skin as Aiden tended to it.

"I have some paperwork for you to sign too, Tet. Remind me off it before the night is over else I shall have to come back and wake you up to sign it. Heaven knows neither of us is ready for that battle. Tet is not a morning person, you see...."

That, it seemed, was the reason for his visit here tonight- or so he seemed inclined to have them believe. Matteo rarely given to explain but any of those curious things he did. That warm smile stayed upon his lips all the same, a hint of amusement tugging at them and yet just what he found amusing at all remained to be seen. So much of that future known to Matteo alone. His attention shifted from Aiden to the young woman once more as he continued. Those accented words wholly teasing despite the easy, offhanded fashion they were offered. Matteo remaining aware of Aiden all the same lest the other man take a swing at him. He knew Aiden well enough to know such a gesture might well occur.

".....in fact, he is not really a night person either, or an afternoon person. If he did not require food he would not rise at all, I'm sure of it. You, I think, are a girl of very good fortune to witness Tetradore in his wakened state. You should remember this day."



m a t t e o
it's tough to be a god