<div style="text-align: justify;">As Rimion's tried to gather his thoughts for the allotted time, he let out a chuckle as he felt a little good to have let all of that anger out all at once. As if the chains of pain were finally shattering, his spirit full of freedom now. He had heard footsteps but gave a small smile and turned his head as far as he could to see it was Max. Did he have something to say? As the man stared at him for a good minute, he crossed his arms and began to say, <span style="font-style: italic">“I always hated the monsters, the cold floors, empty stomachs, scars all over my body. Some that should have had stitches but I wasn't worth the money to mend me. They could have cared less if I was sick, hurt badly it didn't matter. I swore no one would ever beat me again, so I did the beating myself. I know what it is like to enjoy the beatings, the need, and the requirement. The craving for attention even if it was bad. But I swore I would never treat my slaves the way I was treated, I want the control, but I never want to physically hurt someone to the point they can’t take it.” </span><br/><br/>It wasn't the first time that Rimion had heard a sappy story from a Master, but there was a time when it was truly genuine. That was about 10 years ago. And once again on this night by Max. Now anyone can say that they understand what someone is feeling, but only a rare few can say it and make it sound true. "Yeah... I definitely need to apologize now." He muttered softly, deciding to head back into the house. He soon noticed the man in his living room. He slipped his hands into his pockets, looking at him with a smile. "Hey. Mind if I partake in that whiskey with you? I've a thirst you could photograph." He said, giving Max a sweet smile.</div>