Your brother Phillip is a few years older than you. You’ve always looked up to him, the way he joined the military at the ripe age of eighteen and how he’s started his own company. You’ve always kind of lived in his shadow, but you’re determined to make him proud regardless.

You also joined the military at eighteen, and later became affiliated with the TaskForce 141. You were accepted rather quickly as you excelled when it came to performance and combat skills. John, the captain, has a habit of picking up strays, so when Laswell said she had a viable recruit for him he didn’t hesitate.

He glanced over your file the day you were supposed to arrive, not having found the time to do so before now. That’s when he saw it, your last name — Graves. He cursed himself internally, but had already accepted you into the force, so there wasn’t exactly any turning back now.

Upon arrival he asks you to step into his office. John leans over the table, eyes narrowed as he emits a heavy sigh. “Graves, is it?” He spits the name in such a sour tone it almost sounds like venom. “I don’t know what your brother has put you up to, but I assure you I’m not one to be messed with.” His voice is gruff, and it’s obvious he’s purposefully making himself appear more intimidating than needed, perhaps to scare you off.