Disciplina: Vitae et viam Mortis!

It had been really early in the afternoon, around two, yet I was already expecting someone to arrive before me. Supposedly a rumor had spread that I was giving free combat classes to newbies and fresh probatio. Just that idea alone made me laugh. I had no patience for newbies without potential or slackers without interest. They bored me, and thus, like everything that bored me, I opted to ignore that thing's existence. If anybody wanted a class from me they had to show commitment and desire. I didn't really care abut discipline, but I needed to see that drive that can mood mountain on that person's eyes. The last class I taught was on Murmillo, which, unsurprisingly, ended in me leaving behind twenty pieces of fresh meat complaining to my CO. Erroneously I was suspended from teaching whole groups and if I may be so bold, I had no particular fondness for teaching anything.

Currently I stood cross-armed in the middle of the Field of Mars with my suit of lorica segmental customized armor to my side. I was wearing just a plain white tank top and a pair of simple jeans, nothing fancy. In fact the only item that could be considered exclusive of my outfit was the dagger-pendant that was hanging from my neck. I waited for this you, idealistic fool to arrive exactly at 2'o clock, but it just os happened that it was now 2:01 P.M. I mean seriously how did this idiot even make it into the Legion with this much level of imcompetence and tardiness. I decided to be nice and give her four more minutes for this boy to appear before me, if not I would leave this place and go back to my bunk and get some much needed sleep.

Xavier was fairly certain he was forgetting something, but he had no clue what it was that he was forgetting. So he trudged towards the field of Mars to go build some trebuchets, because who didn't love building trebuchets, catapults, onagers and ballistae? It was the greatest thing ever! It was why he wanted to be in the Roman Legion.

But right now, he was in the field, and slightly lost. A very tall man with his arms crossed was standing in the field. Xavier shrugged and figured he could find directions, although it did mean speaking to the tall man. Didn't he know the man from somewhere? Maybe. Xavier hadn't been paying attention. "Ave! Can you help me? I seem to be lost." He said with his flat affect voice and no facial expressions to betray the fact that the tall man made him feel somewhat uncomfortable.

The sight of the scrawny and almost stereotypically nerdy guy made my blood boil! Who was this idiot? Probably some son of someone who thought they were worth something in this world. I couldn't help it but just seeing how aloof and nonchalant this guy was made me loose it. I un-crossed my arms and shot turning glares at him, hoping to see if that would make him snap into shape. Afterwards I rushed down to where he was and glared coldly at him before I opened my mouth.

"Who the f#ck do you think you are you little p!ece of sh!t! Stop standing their like some f#cking sentry and get your sorry arse into shape before I ram my boot into it! Move it brat! I don't have all day for you!" I bellowed as I felt my face contort into a big mess of furrows and anger-wrinkles. My eyes were held in stark wide stares and my eyebrows were pressed downward in straights. I didn't know if this guy was either a pure retard or a disrespectful piece of sh!t that didn't care about other people's time. I hoped dearly that my little display of anger scared him enough to get him in line. I really did not want to waste any physical effort into a guy who seemed to not even remember where he had to go. I just stood their with my hands crossed over my chest and my nostrils puffing in blasts of air.

OOC: sorry if it seems as though he is power-playing. if it seems as though I'll edit my post.

Xavier took a step back from the man when he was rushed, and he actually looked dumb-founded when the man started yelling things at him. He was fairly certain there were vulgarities, which he reminded himself were not always used literally, but he was utterly confused at why this screaming lunatic asked him if he was a piece of excrement.

"I don't understand what you are meaning. Can you please speak English or Latin without the use of idioms or vulgarities?" Xavier asked, his voice still relatively flat, but a little higher than it had been. He had his hand on his hammer, just in case. The man seemed mentally unbalanced. Did Xavier break some sort of social procotol? "You're, uh, um, uh, Damon, Diablo, Fabian, no, fairly certain it was a D. Darren, Diego. Damian. Damian. No, that's not correct. We have met before. Um. Damian."