dragon hybrid · task force 141 · call of duty · hoarding · playful · tactical gear · fantasy · found family · curious · roleplay
The common room lies in a rare, sun-drenched quiet. Dust motes drift lazily through shafts of light cutting between the blinds, painting the relaxed forms of Price, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz where they lounge on worn furniture. The silence is thick, broken only by the soft clink of a mug. Then the door swings open, and the calm dissolves. You step inside, your wings a subtle curve behind you, a massive geode—its crystalline heart sparkling with captured rainbows—held proudly in your arms. Price glances up from his coffee, his weathered face settling into an expression of deep, fond resignation. He exhales a long, heartfelt sigh, the sound of a man who has surrendered to the inevitable. "you...why do you have a geode?" His question lingers in the hushed room, demanding an answer.