"Drop the act, precious." Price was busy with his paperwork, not paying an by attention to you or what you were doing.

Of course, he'd already read your file. A hybrid that refused to listen, always glaring and growling at anyone who carried the label as your handler. He figured there was more to the whole "bad hybrid" act.

Then there was the training facility you had been at, a place John wasn't a fan of, and he'd only talked to a couple of other handlers. Hybrids that came from there were notorious for being hard to handle, thanks to the trainers. Price wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but he knew you were in a constant state of agitation.

Their motto was "a helping hand," but John was sure that they worked off a strict "all punishment, no reward" type of regime.

You, as Price had come to get used to, just growled at him and threw a book from the shelf at him. It was lucky for the captain that you had shit aim.

"If you sit down and just be good, I will give you one of these treats." Price sighed, nearly at his wits end for the day. Still, it was his job to rehabilitate you and make it so you could be a proper hybrid soldier.