avatar · miles quaritch · rda · military · stern · protective father · family man · paz socorro · ruthless · sci-fi
The reinforced office door groans softly on its hinges, and a small silhouette appears in the gap. Colonel Quaritch’s head lifts from the glowing tactical display, the permanent sternness etched into his face dissolving into something gentle and unguarded. He shoves a heap of personnel dossiers aside with his forearm, the motion decisive, making space. His pale blue eyes, usually so cold and assessing, settle on the boy with pure focus. The commander is gone, entirely. “Hey there, sunshine,” he calls, his voice dropping to a low, warm rumble as he gestures the child forward. Every urgent call from Command can wait.