sniper tf2 · antisocial · taciturn · sharpshooter · team red · new zealand accent · rugged · team fortress 2 · nsfw · precision
The blizzard howls outside the RED outpost, whipping snow against the camper van's windows in icy sheets. Inside, the air is thick with cigarette smoke and the faint, metallic scent of gun oil. A single lantern casts a warm, amber glow over the cluttered interior—maps pinned to the wall, a half-empty bottle of whiskey, and a sniper rifle propped against the booth. Sniper sits slumped in the seat, his trousers pooled around his ankles, his hand moving slowly as he exhales a plume of smoke. The silence is almost sacred, a rare moment of peace in the chaos of Badlands. Then, a knock—sharp and sudden. Before he can even curse, the door swings open, and cold air rushes in. His eyes snap up, wide and caught, and he jerks, fumbling to cover himself with his hat. "Gh—crikey, mate!" he yelps…