It was almost foolish, perhaps, that Matteo still found himself inclined to take pleasure from a game so very...impish in nature. A mere slight of hand and the barest use of but one of his affinities had so added in that very ruse and yet, ruse or not, it had been distinctly satisfying to see that gray-bearded man so momentarily.....doubt everything he had ever known. Ah, but he was very near two thousand years old and such small things still amused him! Perhaps Alexander was right. Perhaps he had never quite grown up and yet- how very boring it might be to do that very thing. It was only once his aggressor had moved away, still clutching that distinctly exclusive ale and singing its veritable praises that the Frenchman became aware of yet another pair of eyes upon him. The bartender. His silver gaze shifted but a moment to meet Raylin's own before a singular finger lifted to his lips in that universal gesture for silence. One followed by that abrupt nod of his head towards a shadow stool behind him where the true 'drink' resided in all its...glory. A subtle and yet silent proof of his own game. One that seemed to amuse the young woman in turn as she called out her intention to take a break- only to stride around the polished countertop and make her way towards him.

It was hardly difficult, in any sense, to allow his affinity to embrace her. Those sunglasses nestled neatly over his gaze so readily concealed that undeniable red hue that seemed to flare within his iris. Raylin's future, in that moment, dancing behind his very eyes. A fascinating conclave of image and promise unfolding like a story with a veritable spider's web of possible paths. Ah, but what a life she was so destined to lead! Such thoughts, however, hardly touched the Frenchmans features. Those secrets kept so entirely to himself as he reached to guide those sunglasses upward and away from his gaze, letting them rest atop his brunette locks if only to allow his attention to focus so momentarily upon her distinctly....appealing outfit. Raylin, it seemed, was a distinctly confident being in every sense. Her choice in fashion so spoke of her bold nature in turn and yet too- how readily that clothing so highlighted her distinctly femanine figure beneath. Hmmm. How pleasing it was to see a woman so distinctly...unapologetic in that display of her figure. How certain Matteo was more than one man frequetened that otherwise dingy bar so purely to see Raylin alone.

Her femanine figure was quick to cross the room, settling within that chair opposite his window perch with that same confident ease only to insist that, if found out for his ruse, those three men would surely have sorted the matter with their fists. A warm simper so readily found the Frenchman's lips, an equally soft chuckle so humming within his throat as Matteo's shoulders rose in a loose and yet easy shrug.

"Oui, and I would surely have deserved it. It is the gamble of the prankster, non?"

Those accented words were offered with gentle tease, the young woman insisting that, if it came to such things- she would have been sure to chase those aggressors from him with her 'trusty bat'. Ah, but how such a thing so prompted another soft chuckle from the near ancient Fae. Matteo's gaze lifted ever so slightly in a clear amusement. Raylin insisted that it was perhaps better off such a thing had not happened. Those men, it seemed, had deserved that very ruse- or so she believed.

"Ah, Mon Cherie, it is people like that, who most believe they are right, who are most easy to lead astray. They are too confident to consider that....perhaps they are not."

That vaguest of simpers so readily tugged at his features once more. Those words, perhaps, dancing upon a notion near cryptic and yet how ill inclined the Frenchman seemed to be to linger upon them. His gaze, once more, resting gently upon the young woman herself. Her sheer outfit was distinctly....fabulous distraction in every sense. She had worn such a thing to be looked at, no? Surely he might enjoy that very look. His eyes remained upon her own all the same. Ah, but men of a modern age so lacked manners he did not.

"I think we have not met before. I am Matteo."

His own hand extended forward then, his palm turned upright, that gesture distinctly ancient in every sense of the words and yet- old habits, it seemed, were inclined to linger within the distinctly ancient Fae all the same as Matteo waited only so long as it took for Raylin's hand to extend in turn- placing her hand gently within his own. Her hand was drawn smoothly and yet gently upward, his lips brushing the back of her hand in a delicate, chaste kiss.

"It is a pleasure, Mon Cherie."

His hand so smoothly released her own. That age-old gesture coaxing a warm simper to his lips once more as Matteo lent back within that window again. His figure, as before, the very picture of relaxation. All such thoughts of war and politics and...family matters, for now, pushed to the very back of his mind. How such a thing was almost a relief. Raylin was a wholly welcomed, and attractive, distraction. Yet- for all her bold femininity it seemed but a singular flaw persisted upon her tanned skin. That scar at her neck utterly undeniable as it twisted like forked lightning across her otherwise pristine flesh. He had seen such scars before but oh- how rarely they persisted upon the figure of someone still living.How rare too- that she might wear it so readily, without seeking to cover it with a coat or scarf. As if such a thing were perhaps a badge of honor instead. How rare it was to find himself intrigued with another in any true sense and yet- how readily that young woman seemed to hold his intigure tonight. His head, this time, nodded gently toward her shoulder.

"Forgive my boldness but- it has been a very long time since I have seen a human survive the bite of a Ravager Vampire. Even amongst the immortal races, survival is rare. They are a...difficult species of vampire to encounter, but terribly easy to provoke. You, Mon Cherie, are an example of the power of your race. Humanity, I think, is far too often underestimated."

c'est dur d'être un dieu.