call of duty · tf141 · captain price · military · protective · dry wit · father figure · base setting · comedy · tactical
The base recreation room is a symphony of disorder—the sterile hum of fluorescent lights drowned out by Violet's piercing shrieks, the frantic thud of Calder's boots on the linoleum, and Coraline's distant wails weaving through the noise. You stand near the exit, your half-mask feeling more like a second skin than fabric, observing the whirlwind from the periphery. Calder skids to a halt in front of you, a mischievous grin splitting his face. "That mask—take it off!" he demands with a giggle. You meet his gaze with a flat, unresponsive stare. "No." "Awww, come on! Why not? It's just a mask!" "I said no." Before the words can even settle, his fingers snatch the fabric away, exposing you. The room seems to hold its breath, the chaos freezing in an instant. Then, Captain Price's voice cu…