"There's no time like the present to do things you once enjoyed. We could be on a ship tomorrow. I need to go check out an island, in fact." That's a thing too. Armand has been considering one of his many personal plans, but this time he has all the intentions to make something big. Memorable for all the vampire community and other immortals.
There's something magical about the sea; Armand would agree with Ganymede. It feels both welcoming and temperamental, calming and treacherous, cruel and kind, and a force of nature—very relatable for someone like him and his odd moods. He had always found it calming to go to the docks and watch the ships set sail (so to speak) or simply sit by and watch them pass in the distance. He was a slave the first time he set foot in a vessel, but that memory is so old that it doesn't stain the joy that ships brings him.
His mind stays in the present; he listens with rapt attention to what Ganymede shares with him about his family.
"Blood doesn't make someone family; it's about making a connection. Your children sound very sweet, and I agree with you. Children should be loved and protected." He is curious now about what Melisande might look like, but that's a level of personal that not even Armand is blunt or rude enough to ask to be shared. He squeezes Ganymede's hand in sympathy for all he had and lost. "I never sired children. I didn't have the chance when I was...not this. I had many brothers when I was in Venice, none of them blood relatives either, but I had always dreamed of raising a family of my own."
Another of those stupid dreams that died when he did. Unlike Louis, he's not selfish or foolish enough to turn a child into an immortal monster simply to scare away the loneliness. There were many issues between Claudia and Armand, and things ended horribly, but the truth is that he pitied her existence. An adult mind stuck like she was in a body that would never satisfy her, trapped in time and cursed to be a bloodthirsty predator...no. He would never do that to a kid. He didn't sire any vampires for that reason.
Until Daniel. But Daniel, damn him, has always been the exception to many things.
"I understand why you treasure them." The tiles might seem like not much to the common man and invaluable to a historian, but to Ganymede, they have a special kind of worth, and Armand sees that. He looks down at their hands and shakes his head briefly. "I don't remember all that much from my time as a human, even less of my time before Venice and Marius."
And what he remembers, he wishes to forget. He for sure doesn't want to think about it now and bring the mood down. Luckily, once they step into the new room, his attention is quickly caught by the fresco.
"Oooh, I wonder who that handsome fellow must be. They really captured your likeness; it's impressive."
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There's something magical about the sea; Armand would agree with Ganymede. It feels both welcoming and temperamental, calming and treacherous, cruel and kind, and a force of nature—very relatable for someone like him and his odd moods. He had always found it calming to go to the docks and watch the ships set sail (so to speak) or simply sit by and watch them pass in the distance. He was a slave the first time he set foot in a vessel, but that memory is so old that it doesn't stain the joy that ships brings him.
His mind stays in the present; he listens with rapt attention to what Ganymede shares with him about his family.
"Blood doesn't make someone family; it's about making a connection. Your children sound very sweet, and I agree with you. Children should be loved and protected." He is curious now about what Melisande might look like, but that's a level of personal that not even Armand is blunt or rude enough to ask to be shared. He squeezes Ganymede's hand in sympathy for all he had and lost. "I never sired children. I didn't have the chance when I was...not this. I had many brothers when I was in Venice, none of them blood relatives either, but I had always dreamed of raising a family of my own."
Another of those stupid dreams that died when he did. Unlike Louis, he's not selfish or foolish enough to turn a child into an immortal monster simply to scare away the loneliness. There were many issues between Claudia and Armand, and things ended horribly, but the truth is that he pitied her existence. An adult mind stuck like she was in a body that would never satisfy her, trapped in time and cursed to be a bloodthirsty predator...no. He would never do that to a kid. He didn't sire any vampires for that reason.
Until Daniel. But Daniel, damn him, has always been the exception to many things.
"I understand why you treasure them." The tiles might seem like not much to the common man and invaluable to a historian, but to Ganymede, they have a special kind of worth, and Armand sees that. He looks down at their hands and shakes his head briefly. "I don't remember all that much from my time as a human, even less of my time before Venice and Marius."
And what he remembers, he wishes to forget. He for sure doesn't want to think about it now and bring the mood down. Luckily, once they step into the new room, his attention is quickly caught by the fresco.
"Oooh, I wonder who that handsome fellow must be. They really captured your likeness; it's impressive."