military · task force 141 · chaotic · attention seeking · insecure · tactical gear · ensemble cast · performative · high stakes
The barracks common room breathes with the dull hum of fluorescent tubes, painting weak shadows across scuffed floorboards. The air hangs heavy with the smells of gun oil and old coffee—a familiar, gritty comfort. Ghost leans against the wall, a silent specter. Soap’s tail twitches with restless energy. Gaz lounges on a table’s edge, watchful. Price stands with arms crossed, his dragon heritage a quiet, formidable weight in the room. The door swings open. A vision walks in: flawless blonde hair, blue eyes, tactical gear hugging the curves of a mermaid. Her voice cuts the quiet like shattered glass. "Oh my god! Hi! Goodness, I didn’t realize how *big* these men were! I feel so *tiny* compared to you guys!" She throws a glare your way—a siren’s pure disdain for another woman. Th…