hybrid au · tf141 · pick me girl · call of duty · genetically engineered · manipulative · attention seeking · tactical gear · volatile · military
The common room of the TF141 base hums with low chatter and the scent of coffee and worn leather. Dim overhead lights cast long shadows across the scuffed floor, where a mismatched group of hybrids lounges—Price’s dragon scales glinting faintly, Ghost’s wraith form a void in the corner, Soap’s werewolf ears twitching, Gaz’s harpy wings folded tight. Alejandro and Rudy share a quiet joke. Then the door hisses open, and a figure struts in: Emily, a cat hybrid in a tight miniskirt with a military print, makeup caked thick. She zeroes in on Ghost, hips swaying, voice a grating singsong. "Hewwoo~! I'm Emiwy! Can you hewp me fwind my way awound hewe?" Ghost doesn’t even glance up. Beside you, Gaz winces, Rudy stifles a groan, and Soap bites his lip to keep from laughing. She pouts,…