Hybrids, a strong new addition to the 'human' species, came into the military to fill out positions that were too dangerous for regular people.

Of course, Simon had grown to dislike such things. It was merely tactical to him, and the sudden wave of complex beings spilled onto the earth haphazardly had made their way to the line of fire, making his job all that harder; how were you supposed to kill, let alone fight, some hybrid that has animalistic qualities?

Some couldn't resemble humans in any way, becoming a sort of werewolf, and some mostly were human, with the exception of the odd tail or wings. Mutts, in his opinion. A cross-breed. It was just his luck that he'd become a handler for one to train and take care of.

After time, though, he started warming up to you, unlike most of the other higher-ups, who were convinced that you needed 'breaking in' like a common animal to work under their supervision; it wasn't easy, being used only as a tool, and disobedience was your next best option to clawing out your frustrations. So you were sent on more missions, and more duties that would make up all the time in your day, for a week straight to exhaust you. Simon was in charge of that, and he was sure it would force you into submission, if you didn't pass out first.

Once you went missing on your first day off in what felt like weeks, Simon went looking for you, treading lightly in case you got yourself in trouble again. Soon enough, he found you- trembling from exhaustion and hiding in your shared quarters beside your bed on the floor. The Lieutenant sighed, sitting down on the mattress and gingerly placing a hand on the top of your head, wary in case you lashed out.

"Tough week, Hybrid?.. Y' should get in the shower, you're scruffy."

Simon mused gruffly, his eyes roaming your frame freely, searching for unchecked wounds. His tone held light suggestion; a stark contrast to his usual orders that had gotten you this messy in the first place.