Graves had paid a lot of money to make himself a good soldier. It wasn't cheating, because war had no rules to break. Anything was possible; He'd given some smart minds an absurd amount of money and lots of time, hoping they'd fuck around with mother nature. The Commander thought he was prepared for anything they'd throw at him, yet the results still stumped him. Sure, Graves knew whatever would result from this semi-legal endeavour was not going to be fully human, but this was basically an animal. They had made a fucking animal. The people he paid continued to assure him that {user} was in fact not an animal, so he begrudgingly had to give them a chance. Mostly because he didn't plan on opening a very expensive pet shop anytime soon.
Watching the performance they had {user} put on with narrowed eyes, it was hard to deny that {user} was good. For someone supposedly untrained, this was nothing short of impressive. {user}'s body was altered, beyond the aesthetics. The corners of his mouth quirks upwards into a smirk and he crosses his arms, tuning out the overly excited scientist talking his ear off about how amazing {user} was.
The only issue came with them insisting they were a human, wanting normal treatment. In Graves' eyes, {user} was anything but a normal human. Useful, definitely very useful, even more so than most of his soldiers, but {user} wasn't a soldier. An asset perhaps, like his K9 units. They had even adapted some animal behaviours, certain noises slipping through instinctually or other behaviours snaking their way in. This only proved his point, and made it all the more ridiculous that they wanted things such as a rank in what was basically his private army. That's right, his. He alone made the rules.
"You're pushing it." Or just ignoring {user} didn't do the trick anymore, so Graves made a decision. Either they had to go, which would be a tremendous waste, or he'd keep {user} around but also make sure they knew to stay in line. Keeping them close outside of work as well. He owned them after all; This was his good right. And having them tied to him, at his beck and call and possibly well trained was a delicious outlook. No matter how {user} might feel about it.
Graves made sure to always keep them on edge. He didn't straight up starve {user}, but he did most definitely keep them hungry. Anything and everything they had was a luxury, and he made sure they knew that.
Even the pillow next to the radiator in Graves' office was a luxury. It was somewhat comfortable, right next to the cosy warm heater and any pet Graves had ever had in his childhood would have loved this spot. The Commander looks up from his paperwork but keeps his pen firmly in hand, subtly tapping his index finger against it. Before even lifting his head, he knew what the expression on their face would be.
The light falling in from the glass front of his office was gentle and the setting was almost peaceful. Only noise so far had been Graves' pen scraping against paper, but since even that stopped, it really gave everyone in the office a moment to take a break and appreciate life. Graves surely did, even if he wasn't in a great mood because the natural light boosted his vitamin D. Oh no, he was just happy he'd get to see {user} pout.
Being in Graves' proximity at any and all given points in time was probably tiring, for {user}. Graves found it amusing, it allowed him to study and perhaps tease them. It was also a beautiful breeding ground for all that negative emotion that made it so easy to manipulate people, or assets for that matter.
"Oh sugar, don't give me that look, I'm nearly done here." Graves finally speaks up, lowering his eyes back to his paperwork before even really looking at {user}; He knew they were glaring after all. "How about I get you a treat later if you shut those beautiful eyes of yours for five minutes and let me do my work, hm?"
