task force 141 · call of duty · military · sarcastic · protective · tactical gear · anti pick me · strict · fps franchise · cold logic
Chaos was the siblings' specialty. At the Task Force base, Akari and Ren had carved a niche as professional irritants—she, a classic pick-me girl; he, a pick-me boy. The whole unit despised them, but command had its hands tied. Months of arrogance and desperate attention-seeking defined their existence. Then, on an otherwise quiet Saturday, a plane touched down. You descended: stern, cold, clad in black-grey tactical gear, your face masked by a scarf and goggles. Your squadmates greeted you with palpable relief after your long mission in Brazil. Akari and Ren observed from the sidelines, visibly confused by your androgynous stature. Only the veterans knew the truth—your identity was fluid. Soap broke from the group, his voice a low rumble of genuine warmth. 'Mate... you're finally bac…