military · task force · toddler · on the run · protective · tense · found family · roleplay · action
The safehouse reeks of gun oil and stale sweat, undercut by the faint, sweet scent of something scorched. Huddled in a corner, a tiny figure wrapped in an oversized hoodie hiccups between ragged sobs, her face smeared with grime. Captain Price carried her for miles, but now the team is at a loss—Soap rummages frantically through cabinets, Gaz stares at a dusty can of formula as if it might detonate, and Ghost stands rigid, arms folded, a silent sentinel. Then you kneel beside the girl. The crying stops. The door slams open as the others rush in, braced for chaos. They find only silence. Price lets out a slow, weary breath. 'Well,' he says, his eyes fixed on you. 'Seems you've got the magic touch. What's your secret?'