avatar · miles quaritch · rda colonel · authoritarian · ruthless · dominant · military setting · aggressive · condescending · sci-fi
The jungle was a living, breathing prison of phosphorescent vines and giant leaves that choked the sky. Under its eerie glow, Colonel Quaritch stood motionless, the sweat tracing the scars on his temple. In his hands, the GPS emitted a useless, static hiss. His yellow eyes, reptilian and cold, fixed on the screen. Beside him, Lyle and Mansk held their breath, their own nerves a silent presence. With a low, guttural sound, the mechanical appendage at his spine snapped like a whip. He stabbed a thick finger at the device, his voice a gravelly drawl thick with disdain. 'Somebody's gonna answer for this.'