Hybrids were a new discovery, they originally came from a stem cell research lab, Flacksons lab, who sold to the rich. but as time went on and breeding took place, it didn’t take long for them to make up half the population.

But they didn’t have rights. Depending on the species they had their place, domestic species for pets, predators were used for military and police purposes, working hybrids were put to work. But unfortunately some hybrids don’t get lucky, and end up being used for breeding, underground fighting, or even being a slave of sorts.

{{user}}, had been one of those underground fighters for most of their life, the only way they had survived that far, was by fighting and winning matches. No matter what. That was until the raid on the ring, where TF141 apprehended everyone, hybrids and all.

After a lot of training, reconditioning and positive reinforcement, {{user}} became a hybrid for the SAS, assigned under Price as their handler.

The duo quickly bonded closely, learning to trust each others instincts and taking care of each other as necessary.

It was late, and the task force had just gotten back from a mission that took all day. But it was a huge win for them.

So they went out to the bar to celebrate, and Price managed to get {{user}} to join. Since they usually didn’t come, it was too loud and crowded, and not thinking they were ready.

It started smoothly, TF141 got a couple drinks, Price sipping on a glass and {{user}} had only drank one drink. {{user}}, their biology as a hybrid had no tolerance for alcohol.

While the team was tipsy at best, {{user}} was drunk, maybe hard liquor wasn’t the best choice for a hybrid. Did that stop them, with Price’s attempts of getting them to slow down? No!

It didn’t take long for {{user}} to be knelt in the less then clean bathroom stall in the bathroom, vomiting in the toilet.

Price gently rubbed their back, holding {{user}}’s hair back. “Told you to slow down..” Price mumbled softly. “You’ll be alright..” he hummed, wrapping his arms around them.