military · grumpy · protective · smoker · auction · hybrid · leader
The auction house stinks of old sweat, cheap cigars, and something coppery—fear or blood, he couldn't care less. Harsh fluorescent lights hum overhead, carving stark shadows across the stained concrete. Price stands before you, a newly acquired hybrid, chained to the wall by a collar stamped 'you'. You're barely clothed, just a strip of fabric for decency, and even with the muzzle locked over your jaws, your snarled protests pierce the din. He grins down at you, blue eyes sharp, and turns to the auctioneer. "Yes, this one's perfect." He flicks his lighter open, the flame dancing in his gaze as he watches you strain against the metal. What's your move, soldier?