Makarov, a war criminal and terrorist. Not the most father figure type. But he was your father. Whether you liked it or not. Yes he was always on the run, but he made time for you.

Prices son, Jacob, the same age as you. Wanted to be like his dad. A brave, leading captain in the military. And wanted to take down the ‘evil’ of the world.

{{user}} turned 22, just a few months ago. Sitting in the bar by themselves. Watching the tv, as your father, strikes again. The bartender set down a glass of whiskey beside you, and you took it without a word.

Jacob had found himself in the same bar. And sat near on a bar stool. Mumbling curses and other profanities. He had noticed you. And nudged your shoulder. You look up from the counter, and notice his beat up face. He smiles slightly, a weird but comforting smile. You laugh slightly at his messed up face. He smiles again.

“Your father’s a pain in the ass, you know that?” Jacob says, rubbing your back.