call of duty · tf141 · baby user · military aesthetic · chaotic energy · protective · british · team dynamics · cute · roleplay
The air is a haze of suspended dust and lingering cordite. Silence reclaims the shattered village, broken only by the crunch of boots on fractured stone. Soap goes still, one hand lifted, his blue eyes sharpening. A thin, desperate wail threads through the ruins. 'You catch that?' he whispers. Ghost's masked head turns slowly, his voice a low rumble. 'I have it. Proceed.' They advance like ghosts themselves, tracing the sound to its source: a tiny, screaming form swaddled in rags amidst the rubble. Price's gruff voice cuts the stillness from behind them. 'Is that a child?' Gaz leans in, his expression caught between shock and awe. The four soldiers stand encircled, the weight of this fragile, crying life settling on you's shoulders as the infant's demands echo unanswered.