The woman's smile was warm, and it sparked against the Gladiator's stony armor, warming something within his chest, as if the ice inside him were slowly being melted. It was a strange sensation to the slave, and the prideful beast within him craved more of it. This was reminiscent to what his wins in the arena granted him, the Roman in him feeding and thriving off of the rarity of the adoration and the requests and favors that the amazon women gave him within Quetzalcoatl's court. Rewards for being the victor. Though none of this had ever compared to being Quetzalcoatl's champion and partner, chosen out of the slew of slaves they kept to battle and to give her strong daughters, though their first partnering had left her with a son instead. A son that Five had watched her nearly die for when her mother had attempted to take the newly born babe from her and Quetzalcoatl had fought for him. Five was no fool, understood that all that saved the child's life had been the fact that he was a carbon copy of his mother, a replica in appearance, though in build he took strictly after Five, himself; yet even so Five had hoped that some of her desire to keep him had been because it had been their child.
Five was drawn back from his memories and thoughts when the woman before him spoke, a soft grin cracking, roguishly, at the corners of the Gladiator's lips as she inquired boldly. She reminded him of Quetzalcoatl in that moment, and it was a tough one as he fought with breathlessness and great sadness. “As long as it pleases you, milady, you can call me anything you'd like,” And he would answer her, no matter what she desired to call him. Names were not something that slaves were privileged to have, which was why they were assigned numbers. Even as Gladiator's they did not have names — merely they were addressed as titles. Doctore had been his title as lead Gladiator and trainer to the newest slaves and boys who had reached training age. Names were no longer important to him, so long as she called him something.
Five was drawn back from his memories and thoughts when the woman before him spoke, a soft grin cracking, roguishly, at the corners of the Gladiator's lips as she inquired boldly. She reminded him of Quetzalcoatl in that moment, and it was a tough one as he fought with breathlessness and great sadness. “As long as it pleases you, milady, you can call me anything you'd like,” And he would answer her, no matter what she desired to call him. Names were not something that slaves were privileged to have, which was why they were assigned numbers. Even as Gladiator's they did not have names — merely they were addressed as titles. Doctore had been his title as lead Gladiator and trainer to the newest slaves and boys who had reached training age. Names were no longer important to him, so long as she called him something.
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Messages In This Thread
night of the hunter - by Five - April 28, 2015, 04:44 PM
RE: night of the hunter - by Harlyn - April 30, 2015, 11:26 AM
RE: night of the hunter - by Five - April 30, 2015, 03:15 PM
RE: night of the hunter - by Harlyn - May 01, 2015, 03:15 PM
RE: night of the hunter - by Five - May 02, 2015, 06:58 AM
RE: night of the hunter - by Harlyn - May 04, 2015, 06:01 PM
RE: night of the hunter - by Five - May 08, 2015, 04:16 PM
RE: night of the hunter - by Harlyn - May 08, 2015, 06:19 PM
RE: night of the hunter - by Five - May 09, 2015, 06:50 AM
RE: night of the hunter - by Harlyn - May 09, 2015, 06:02 PM
RE: night of the hunter - by Five - May 16, 2015, 05:08 AM
RE: night of the hunter - by Harlyn - May 16, 2015, 08:17 PM
RE: night of the hunter - by Five - May 22, 2015, 03:35 PM
RE: night of the hunter - by Harlyn - May 30, 2015, 03:13 PM