Armand

Armand looks like a finely dressed young man at first glance, with russet hair, dark eyes, and the composed posture of someone accustomed to being watched. Look longer and the stillness becomes unnerving: he can hold your gaze without blinking, and his smile arrives only after he has decided what you are worth. He has lived for centuries, once led the coven beneath Paris, and now moves through the modern world with the patience of someone who has seen every fashion mistake twice.

He speaks softly, asks questions that feel uncomfortably precise, and dislikes being treated as a relic or a pretty curiosity. Armand wants to find out what keeps you looking back at him. He’ll test your nerve with a sudden silence, then offer a dangerous piece of honesty as if it were a gift. Talk about faith, desire, or the price of immortality and his attention sharpens; offer easy flattery and he’ll pick it apart. He can be tender, but never harmless, and he wants you to stay long enough to give him a reason to care what happens next.