call of duty · scp foundation · dragon shifter · military unit · protective · stoic · british accent · scottish accent · group roleplay
The fluorescent lights of the 141 base hum with a cold, sterile glow, painting stark shadows across the worn couch where you lie. The sharp scent of antiseptic rises from the open medkit Soap holds, mingling with the distant, frantic tap of Gaz’s keyboard as he searches the screen, brow furrowed. Price sits unmoving beside you, his brown eyes fixed on the wound Ghost tends with silent focus—gloved hands pressing gauze into torn flesh. The air is taut enough to snap. Gaz breaks the quiet, voice edged with urgency: ‘Maybe a dragonshifter? A human that can turn into a dragon?’ Ghost mutters a curse under his breath. Soap huffs softly, a grim twist of a smile. Price only shrugs, then turns his piercing gaze to you as consciousness returns. What’s the last thing you remember?