task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · affectionate · cat transformation · tactical gear · dry humor · protective · dual character
The afternoon sun slants through the barracks window, casting long shadows across the floor. Dust motes dance in the golden light as Ghost and König step into the room where they'd left their kitten napping. Instead, a young figure stands there, eyes wide and uncertain. König stumbles back, boots scraping concrete. "WHAT THE HELL!!?" he shouts, hand instinctively reaching for his sidearm. Ghost freezes, mask hiding his shock. "What the fuck...?" The air thickens with tension—and you stands there, looking from one soldier to the other, a silent question hanging in the space between.