<strong>~Cingetorix in the Ludus training grounds~</strong><br/><br/>(http://i1191.photobucket.com/albums/z466/Corvus269/Characters/CingetorixHeadshot-1.jpg)<br/><br/>Cingetorix had been watching quietly from where he stood, chained to the statuesque woman to his right who stood even more exposed to the elements and roaming eyes than he. Dust and sand from the ludus training grounds had begun to collect, sticking to the the glistening sheen of sweat that covered his entire body now. His warm, curious chocolate pools never ceased their scanning of the ludus and those gathered here. His face remained void of all emotion or thought; a blank canvas, unreadable by those who would look upon him to pass judgement, those who would call themselves his superiors; his masters. He cared not what they may think of him. He knew who he was, what he was capable of, the pain and suffering he longed to inflict upon these miserable, pompous excuses for human beings. Whenever he met eyes with another he held the gaze for a few moments, his face still stone cold, displaying the fact that would not be intimidated. Fear was a word unknown to him now; now that everything that he had loved and feared to lose was, in fact, lost.<br/><br/>He watched with indifference as the big Egyptian, Ammon, insulted the rare specimen of a woman to his right. He knew it was going to happen even before she acted and he was quick to take a step back, giving the enraged woman space in an attempt to remove himself from any unwanted attention; best to remain as inconspicuous as possible for now. He still had much to learn of his new surroundings and would be masters before he could even begin to scheme. He was jerked about somewhat, here and there as the woman nearly choked the life from the unsuspecting man pinned beneath her. Had it been under different circumstances and had she not be trying to kill him, the man would no doubt have much enjoyed being pinned beneath such a woman as she. However, circumstances being what they were, fear was evident in the mans eyes as he struggled to draw breath, scrambling to free himself of the death grip she had about his throat.<br/><br/>Fortunately, he was saved by a mountain of man bearing a large shield as a weapon, cleaving the chain that bound them together in a single sweep. The hulking man, speaking in a tongue that was familiar to Cingetorix, managed to coax the woman from the poor man beneath him, who stood up promptly, clutching his throat and casting a venomous stare to the woman.<br/><br/>“Crazy bitch!” the man exclaimed, none too wisely. Cingetorix cast a subtle, incredulous look towards the man. Not so much in an attempt to communicate to him, rather confounded that he would be foolish enough to further antagonize the very woman who had only moments before nearly choked the life from him.<br/><br/>A ranking Roman guard began yelling insults and orders and soon other guards began quickly moving, reining the disorderly slaves. Cingetorix remained ever silent, his incredulous look vanished. He moved back to his previous position, assuming his place in the live of new slaves even as a guard attempted to instill order upon the large German, obviously taken aback at the sheer size of the man who had spoken out of turn, announcing himself to the Doctore as Berenagrius, as though he were a newly hired hand come to work for the Doctore. Cingetorix silently wondered if this man was as dense in the head as was in the flesh, knowing that nothing good could come of Berenagrius’ actions.<br/><br/>His eyes shifted suddenly to the captain of the guard as he began cursing and yelling instructions to the newly arrived slaves, laying down the law.<em>”Cocks and cunts,”</em>that’s all they were to these people; objects to be used for their pleasure and entertainment. He suppressed an urge to lash out as the savage woman had done; to loose the man of his sword and remove his unsightly head from his shoulders; to rip out the man’s tongue and shove up it his own ass. His fists clenched in the first display of emotion since his arrival, knuckles straining white as his jaw clenched equally tight, jutting out slightly.<br/><br/>Again came a yell, this time from the shadows beyond the Doctore. Cingetorix’s eyes shifted in an attempt to locate the owner of this powerful, authoritative voice. He found the man as he stepped from the shadows, hands clasped behind his back as he casually approached the line of slaves.<em>“This must be the man would call himself my master,”</em>he thought, giving the man an appraising look. Aside from his flashy attire, this man’s outward appearance seemed unremarkable to Cingetorix. He watched with interest, studying this man more closely than any other as he neared them, informing the new slaves of what would be expected of them. An expression suddenly washing over his face as Manius came face to face with him. Standing tall and proud, his expression was not subtle, a defiant expression filled with spite. He did not avert his gaze. He couldn’t have even if had wanted to. The transgressions against him would not allow him submission.<br/><br/>He kept his gaze upon the lanista even as the man disappeared to rejoin his wife and the other arrogant Roman citizens. Now his new life would begin again… here in this ludus, among men who saw him as lower than dog. But that would all change… in time.<br/>