<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family:Open Sans">Altair was powerless. Most situations could be navigated. This could not. Cygnus would not see reason. Altair didn't think he was a bad slave, just not what the Captain wanted him to be, apparently. His error in figuring this out too late was going to cost him dearly. He'd never felt so miserable; so afraid in his entire life. He's stopped talking, his eyes focused forward, his breath coming in short, shallow pants and Cygnus hadn't even struck him yet.<br/>
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When he finally did, nothing could have prepared Altair for it. His body arched in pain, and he let out a sharp scream. He wasn't accustomed to pain of that nature, and there was no reason to try and suppress anything. Cygnus wanted him to suffer and Altair wasn't strong enough to control his bodies natural reaction. Between the pain, and knowing that his blood was dripping hot and thick down his back made him forget that these were meant to be 'counted'. While he might have been perceptive to the direction under different circumstances, it didn't fully process and all he could do was clench his jaw tightly, his body tense all over, as he awaited the inevitable.<br/>
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He couldn't find his voice to beg, but he imagined that could be rectified with a little prompting. Sweat started to glisten on his skin, his trembling increasing, tears falling as he braced himself against his bonds, and the mast of the ship. He couldn't yet look to those watching, unsure if he could take the mix of expression he would see.</span></span>