Crossing A Line
POSTED ON Oct 30, 2013 8:29:18 GMT -8
Post by Deleted on Oct 30, 2013 8:29:18 GMT -8
The Tiber was usually quite cool, in comparison to the bath house, it invigorated him, and he was always sure to use it in the wee hours of the morning when no one was out and about. The chill bit to the bone, and after swimming in the water, it only got worse. Draco was dressed in training garb after a short bath, holding a hand stand by the water's edge. Faint footfalls alerted him to an approaching person, though he didn't see who, nor did he care. Not for a few moment's anyway, when the person stepped around, he immediately recognized it was one of the biggest Children of Mars at the Camp, smiling down at him. "Hey Centurion, I was wondering if I could challenge you for your position.", he said, for a brief moment, Draco thought it was a joke. That was his own mistake, for once the moment passed, he felt his arms being kicked out from beneath him. His head hit first, and he saw stars, rolling backward as the Legionnaire advanced. He felt another blow, armored, straight into his ribcage, he decided that he'd probably just gotten curb stomped, though the pain didn't register.
Children of Mars, always itching for a fight, never knew when to keep their hands to themselves or their mouths shut. "Is that all you've got?", he could hear as the lights that had blocked his vision moments prior cleared. "Should've expected as much from a Child of Bellona, probably got where you are by bribing Praetors." And then he turned to march away and share his victory with his friends, maybe the one's who'd put him up to disrupting Draco's routine. He barely made it more than five feet when Draco was up, kicking the Camper flat in a flash of anger. He'd been attacked before, not so unexpectedly or viciously before, but people did want his position, everyone wanted to be a Centurion or a Praetor, to be important. As far as he knew, as he began to taste blood in his mouth, reckoning that the stomp had done more damage than he thought, the Augur was the only person safe from attempts to steal his position, you don't become the Augur, you are born the Augur. As these thoughts flashed in Draco's mind, he was vaguely aware of himself pounding on any exposed flesh he could see, the camper begging him to stop.
After what must've felt like ages to the other, Draco stopped, stepping back. Like Paris against Menelaus*, the Child of Mars began crawling away, whining, and whimpering as he went. Draco jumped forward, kicking the other in the back, driving the air from his lungs. "C'mon Son of Mars, where's your strength now? Get up!", he shouted, but the other refused, coughing haggardly as he moved to crawl away again. At this point, Draco's rage boiled, and he kicked the warrior in the ribs, flipping him onto his back before kneeling on his chest, a look of contempt on his face. The Child of Mars looked back, jaw flapping uselessly as he tried to speak past the sudden fear he felt looking into those bright blue eyes. "Yes, here's your answer, this is why I am here now, because I was the strongest, the fastest, and the smartest.", he said, slamming the legionnaire back onto the ground, spitting congealed blood into the downed soldiers face. "You'll do well to remember what happened tonight, the way it could've gone and didn't, because next time you attack me, I won't stop.", he said cruelly stepping over him as he made his way back to the river to rinse off again.
Notes: *According to the movie Troy.
Children of Mars, always itching for a fight, never knew when to keep their hands to themselves or their mouths shut. "Is that all you've got?", he could hear as the lights that had blocked his vision moments prior cleared. "Should've expected as much from a Child of Bellona, probably got where you are by bribing Praetors." And then he turned to march away and share his victory with his friends, maybe the one's who'd put him up to disrupting Draco's routine. He barely made it more than five feet when Draco was up, kicking the Camper flat in a flash of anger. He'd been attacked before, not so unexpectedly or viciously before, but people did want his position, everyone wanted to be a Centurion or a Praetor, to be important. As far as he knew, as he began to taste blood in his mouth, reckoning that the stomp had done more damage than he thought, the Augur was the only person safe from attempts to steal his position, you don't become the Augur, you are born the Augur. As these thoughts flashed in Draco's mind, he was vaguely aware of himself pounding on any exposed flesh he could see, the camper begging him to stop.
After what must've felt like ages to the other, Draco stopped, stepping back. Like Paris against Menelaus*, the Child of Mars began crawling away, whining, and whimpering as he went. Draco jumped forward, kicking the other in the back, driving the air from his lungs. "C'mon Son of Mars, where's your strength now? Get up!", he shouted, but the other refused, coughing haggardly as he moved to crawl away again. At this point, Draco's rage boiled, and he kicked the warrior in the ribs, flipping him onto his back before kneeling on his chest, a look of contempt on his face. The Child of Mars looked back, jaw flapping uselessly as he tried to speak past the sudden fear he felt looking into those bright blue eyes. "Yes, here's your answer, this is why I am here now, because I was the strongest, the fastest, and the smartest.", he said, slamming the legionnaire back onto the ground, spitting congealed blood into the downed soldiers face. "You'll do well to remember what happened tonight, the way it could've gone and didn't, because next time you attack me, I won't stop.", he said cruelly stepping over him as he made his way back to the river to rinse off again.
Notes: *According to the movie Troy.