Ilario was, indeed, leaning against the T-bird. Lounging, really, even though he was standing, leisurely flipping his dagger in his hand, and looking quite pleased with himself for gods knew what reason. When his eyes caught the movement of the group cresting the hill he pushed himself from his resting spot and headed toward them, grin and arms wide as he greeted them. “Welcome, my good chummers! I assume you are to accompany me during the ride on this strange beastie?”
Ilario was the model image of tall, handsome, and debonair. Although he looked like he just sauntered out of an Elizabethan-era trid, with the long, gold-filigree jacket, tailored trousers and vest, stylish white gloves, and white ruffles at the collar of his shirt. Honestly, he looked like he should be carrying a dashing cane, though he seemed to have opted for the rapier and dagger at his hip instead.
His platinum hair ruffled with the sea breeze, and his grin grew wider, eyes lighting up with recognition and delight when he spotted the charming woman the group had with them. “Ali! Me Old China! How long it has been!!”