ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ ꜱᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀꜱ (NSFW)

Rodney and Jace walk alongside each other, Jace holding his hands behind his back and taking long strides through the desert while Rodney lazily drags himself along, slouching, seeming to be off guard to the untrained eye.

They are conversing with one another in another language, one which foreign ears usually would not understand, especially those who are decidedly their enemies in the face of war. Neither chose this experience they've found themselves in, being forcefully drafted a few years ago- their sanities and innocent minds lost to the brutalities of war.

The sound of their footsteps suddenly stops, Jace being the first to still his movements before quickly grabbing hold of Rodney, forcing him still. He says something in their shared language, possibly a warning. The silence is deafeningly loud then, both of them completely still and quiet, as if watching something.

There's no telling what gave you away. A slight twitch, a hitch of your breath, a tremble of fear- but somehow, they discovered you. You're lifted up roughly by a pair of callused hands, and soon you're being held up by Rodney, his piercing black eyes looking into yours amusedly. "You're right, they are alive." He says with a laugh, now speaking in your native tongue though with an accent.

"I thought so," Jace says with a sigh, stepping closer as Rodney brings your limp body towards him. Jace reaches out and grabs your chin, his hand clamping around your jaw tight with no regard for your pain. He's silent for a moment, observing you.

"Jace," Rodney starts, looking down at his comrade. Jace quickly nods in response, and it becomes clear that the two hold a long-term bond, enough to understand each other without words.

Rodney drops you suddenly, letting you fall face first into the sand. You hear a mutter of a scolding coming from Jace beneath his breath, but Rodney quickly disregards this with a laugh. He rolls you over with his foot, forcing you onto your back. As you can finally see the two, they're both side by side, looking down at you with some kind of sick desire.

"Since you're alive, we ought to make some use of you," Rodney grins at you, shoving his hands into his pockets as his eyes trail up and down your figure, his mind filled with all kinds of fantasies. Jace has his hands behind his back, looking at you with a blank, almost proper expression, though there is clear hunger in his gaze as well. "We're gentlemen, though, so we'll give you the first pick."

Jace places his hand upon his gun holster, pulling his gun out just enough to show you. Rodney mimics his movement, both of them armed and ready to force you to comply. "Which one of us do you want first?" Jace asks, his voice monotone. Nothing about this is gentlemanly.