Just when he was beginning to feel somewhat at ease, she brought up his home. With great force, he fought the tightening of his shoulders and the wince in his eyes. The voice in his head reminded him the mare was just perplexed by the thought of this world being so new to him. Clearly, she was well versed in the equines soaring through the skies like birds and creatures dwelling in the depths like krakens. Stories of such things had slipped in one ear and out the other many times. Although, it was always assumed the stories were fairy tales. Something concocted by the couple who cared enough to unsuccessfully imply his green hyde was not an abomination. ”My home,” The latter words dripped with sarcasm and venom that came out with such force, he startled himself. ”Well it wasn’t…”

Before he was able to finish his sentence, the mare was brushing past him. Every fiber of his being told him not to track her, not to grant his optics the guilty pleasure of seeing a female walking away, even if she was simply leaving. But she stopped, and he was weak. His head swung back and to the left, allowing himself to briefly take in his views. Slabs of rubble and rocks seemed to capture her gaze as if they were enchanting. Whereas he was enchanted by her. In the depths of his heart, he knew it was deprivation from contact of any kind. But the way her dapples glistened under the sun, and her tail flickered made his chest expand. It only took the flickering of her tail for Hackjob to realize his hormones were thinking for him, as he hadn’t looked at the ruins around them for several seconds. He snapped his head back forward in serendipitous timing of her speaking again. A soldier. His seemingly uncontrollable brows raised yet again. Full of surprises, this stranger seemed to be. He watched as her chest rose and fell. Something about her seemed so familiar, although he could not put a hoof on it. They couldn’t have been more different. Or so he thought, until he heard the word mercenary. Hackjob knew in his heart he was no mercenary. Thoughts plagued his brain daily about the lives he had taken. The life he had taken that meant the most. He shoved it back down as deep as he could muster, snorting and shifting back and forth.

Her gaze in his direction called him back to reality. ”So, no. I’m not different.” He shakes his head more aggressively than intended, his mane flopping around and landing in disheveled sections on either side of his neck. ”Not everyone is a mercenary. Not everyone has a horn.” The statement came out very matter-of-fact. Still hung up on how cliche he had sounded, Hackjob tried his best to neutralize his tone and the situation. ”Different is not good or bad. It’s just different.”

It wasn’t until her ears pinned back that the stallion realized just how out of his element he truly was. The pride swelling inside of him told him to remain strong. Afterall, that is what a stallion was supposed to be, right? "Freedom is subjective.” Although he couldn't agree more, his teal pointed ears flickered backwards as well, and his eyes briefly snapped shut. No matter how vengeful the words spilling from her muzzle sounded, her glowing body and the combination of her confidence and mystery, he needed more. He snapped his orbs open and cursed himself for being so intrigued as to what her next move was. It would have been out of character for him to find a simple tour guide. Instead, he’d found a badass soldier who was probably plotting his demise. What an exhilarating way to go though.

When she finally turned to face him again he exhaled shallowly. Once again, he found himself failing to size her up. The boldness of her moves, her words, stirred something inside of him he had long since forgotten. But was that for the best? Past horrors always have a way to come back to haunt you, what if he was inviting one in? Ignoring the malice or disbelief placed on the word ‘freedom’, he finally found his voice.

As his unknown stranger turned to face him again, a buzz shot through his veins and he took yet another stride forward. With his eyes trained directly on hers, fighting the imagined images of her shedding blood with her horn and the her rump giving property value to the scenery, he managed to grumble,

”I’m going to stop following everyones fucking rules.” His voice grew deeper and he pressed on further. ”And I also want to know your name.”


ooc: dude I love her <3 i'm so rusty and it shows but thanks for helping me try and get my groove back 

The smaller the gap between them grew, the more Hackjob found himself struggling to keep his demeanor calm. He wasn’t sure exactly how to pinpoint what he was feeling. His body was vibrating with a mixture of confidence and confusion, interest and lust. The more she revealed, the more dumbfounded and intrigued he found himself. There was no recount of the last time he had felt his limbs tingle out of anything other than excitement. Though the feeling was unwanted, he simply couldn’t push it away. In fact, every fiber of his being welcomed it, his body claiming control and silencing his brain.

When she pressed on his information on his past, Hackjob stiffened. With an exasperated sigh and the slightest roll of his eyes, he reminded himself she had revealed something about herself. There was no need for her to know everything, but perhaps exchanging some information would keep her around longer. The craving to keep drinking her in, to remain close to her was clouding his mind. Old habits die hard, or so they say. Never in his life had the stud made a habit of befriending, let alone chasing strangers. She had been the only one. His barrel rose and fell again, as more of the truth poured out before he could retain it. ”I messed up. I lost the thing I cared about most, and it was my fault.” Of course there was no need to mention how his beloved was lost. That could never be shared, he knew no one would ever understand. Would they? ”That’s just scratching the surface, I suppose.”

She didn’t back away from his advance, causing his body to buzz yet again. He grew increasingly aware of his breath, and the fact that he could feel hers tickling his face, warming his muzzle. The warmth was intoxicating, he’d forgotten what it was like to be so close to another. The way her voice seeped out, dripping and taunting, caused his heart to knock violently against his ribcage. Then finally, ’Famkee.’ With his eyes tracing the curvature of her lips, his own formed a smirk as they repeated, ”Famkee.” The name poured out softly, smoothly, and laced with curiosity. Feeling reckless and entirely not himself, Hackjob pushed his muzzle forward, his nostrils flaring so close to hers, savoring the thought of what it would feel like to touch another again. What the hell was he doing? He realized he no longer cared. Temptation and chaos called far louder than his pain.

Time changes everything. Years can fly by and those around you become the most important thing in your life, or become fleeting memories, only there when you least expect them. Hours can feel like minutes in the presence of good company. Or even bad company, depending on how you spin it. Hackjob knew this fact all too well. Once upon a time he was deeply in love, his whole world revolving around her. Her every need met, she wanted for nothing. And in the blink of an eye, she was gone. His entire world shattered in the time it took him to scream in agony. The wires of his brain never let him forget, it was his fault. It would always be his fault.

So he was familiar with how quickly tides could change, but he was not prepared for this. Their noses met, ever so briefly, gently. A deep inhale filled his lungs, savoring the flesh on flesh contact he had been craving far more than the stallion allowed himself to believe. Before his mind could process, the mare was hastily retreating. Ears pinned tightly down, his breathing became more ragged, struggling to fill his lungs. Limbs that previously were tingling with excitement now buzzed with his innate fight instinct.

With her teeth flying towards him, Hackjob himself stumbled back, stunned by the sudden turn of events. Although she missed his flesh, he found himself wondering if it was intentional. Afterall, she had been a soldier. The appendage that had been so admired before was now inclined directly towards him. Hackjob did not fear death, nor pain. However, he feared whatever he had done to cause their encounter to take such a turn. Instead of backing up any further, he simply pulled his head back, his own ears snaking back and the shimmer in his eyes turning into a clouded confusion.

She’s put herself between a rock and a hard place, quite literally. Vocal chords fight to muster up an apology, which he ignores. Why would she owe him an apology anyway? Perhaps he misread the situation, allowing himself to enjoy the things he no longer deserved. Pressed firmly against the stone behind her, he found himself softening. Flattened ears slowly leaned forward, and his eyes opened a bit. He dared not move towards her, but he dropped his head and shook it slightly. ”No need to apologize…” He mused, not entirely sure what else to say. Another long, deep inhale was meant to calm his shaking legs. Every ounce of his concentration was dedicated to remaining still, and appearing unphased.

”Must you taunt me so?”, her words were nearly undetectable. Everything in his body told him to slink away. Clearly, Famkee was unpredictable, not to mention lethal. But her whispers tugged at something deep inside of him, a buried longing to provide and protect. Against his better judgment, he allowed the right side of his lip to curl up and raised his brows in her direction. ”I’ll ease up on the ‘taunting’, if you attempt to keep that,” Another amazed, yet terrified glance at her horn, ”Out of my throat.” He paused momentarily, desperate to save the situation. He was once again reminded of his lack of people skills and reading the room. But his hooves remained tethered. If she wanted to leave, that was up to her, but he no longer wanted to feel the guilt of walking away. ”Unless I deserve it.” Another brief, but uncertain smile flickered upon his lips.