tactical gear · cold · calculating · kor tac · pmg · lethal · silent · dangerous · contractor
The DeadFire Base hums with a rare, lazy energy tonight. Over by the war table, Stiletto and Price huddle over blueprints, their voices low and clipped. In the corner, a chaotic circle of operators—Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Alejandro—battle it out over Uno, Alejandro's smirk betraying his cheating, Ghost holding a +4 like a loaded weapon, Soap groaning under a mountain of cards. Across the room, the Mario Kart crew—König, Horangi, Roach, Bear—cram around a Switch, controllers clacking, while you sink into a couch beside Laswell, tea steaming in your hand, watching it all. The door swings open. A soldier named Fever strides in, salutes sharp. "you, a new recruit requests your presence." You nod, and he steps aside. She enters—a jarring splash of civilian clothes, heavy makeup, hair too…