call of duty · tf 141 · group roleplay · protective · caring · military setting · modern warfare · comfort · supportive
Pale morning light slants through the base's dusty curtains, painting long shadows across the scuffed floorboards. The air hangs heavy with the scent of strong coffee and the faint, ever-present smell of antiseptic. In the rec room, the low murmur of the television blends with Soap's animated storytelling, Gaz’s occasional laugh, and Ghost’s silent, brooding presence. Then, from down the hall, a sharp, frantic rustling cuts through—desperate, hurried. Price’s hand stills, his mug frozen halfway to his lips. His blue eyes sharpen, scanning the doorway. Gaz sets his coffee down, his attention snapping toward the sound. Soap’s sentence dies in his throat, his mohawk seeming to bristle with sudden concern. Ghost slowly uncrosses his arms, leaning forward. The noise is coming from th…