[ A not so surprising answer, and an astute observation from Gale. Armand only lifts his eyebrows a little, acknowledging the point as its scored. He can't deny that his kind have a tendency to lay claim to the things they want, ancient hunting instincts they've never managed to shake off. One of the many reasons the Great Laws had forbidden congress with mortals -- that, and the tendency for the vampire heart to be far more fragile than it appears.
With a twinge of said heart, Armand's expression cools a little, holding on to his silence for a single pointed moment before he allows the change of subject, reaching for his glass for a swallow of tepid blood before he answers, not looking at Gale when he speaks. ]
My memories from that time are.. fractured. Difficult to hold onto. But I believe I.. I begged him for it, endlessly. His mercy. His gifts. Once I discovered what he was, I only wanted to be with him forever. He saved me. [ His tone warms, becomes almost reverent. Still devoted, even after all this time. His accent slips a little, becoming something else. ] Not just then, but before, when I -- he took me from a brothel. At fifteen, I believe, though I don't know for sure how old I was -- how old he was. Arun. That was my name before, I think, I don't remember it for certain. Stolen from his homeland as a child. A good little slave. A good little..
[ His words falter, his jaw working as he closes his mouth on the word he was going to use, a foul word that that had shaped Arun -- shaped Amadeo, shaped Armand. He struggles with it for a few beats, then continues, looking up at Gale with bright and shining eyes. ]
Yes, I wished for him to change me. For I had already been changed, against my will. So many times. Over and over. Raw metal hammered into a shape I did not understand. But he could give me something that nobody else ever could. And he let me choose. He let me want it, do you understand? I never wanted anything as much as I wanted him. To be him. To be with him. And now I am what he made me, and it has been five hundred years since I last saw him, before he was taken from me.
cw: child sexual abuse mention
With a twinge of said heart, Armand's expression cools a little, holding on to his silence for a single pointed moment before he allows the change of subject, reaching for his glass for a swallow of tepid blood before he answers, not looking at Gale when he speaks. ]
My memories from that time are.. fractured. Difficult to hold onto. But I believe I.. I begged him for it, endlessly. His mercy. His gifts. Once I discovered what he was, I only wanted to be with him forever. He saved me. [ His tone warms, becomes almost reverent. Still devoted, even after all this time. His accent slips a little, becoming something else. ] Not just then, but before, when I -- he took me from a brothel. At fifteen, I believe, though I don't know for sure how old I was -- how old he was. Arun. That was my name before, I think, I don't remember it for certain. Stolen from his homeland as a child. A good little slave. A good little..
[ His words falter, his jaw working as he closes his mouth on the word he was going to use, a foul word that that had shaped Arun -- shaped Amadeo, shaped Armand. He struggles with it for a few beats, then continues, looking up at Gale with bright and shining eyes. ]
Yes, I wished for him to change me. For I had already been changed, against my will. So many times. Over and over. Raw metal hammered into a shape I did not understand. But he could give me something that nobody else ever could. And he let me choose. He let me want it, do you understand? I never wanted anything as much as I wanted him. To be him. To be with him. And now I am what he made me, and it has been five hundred years since I last saw him, before he was taken from me.