call of duty · tf141 · baby user · military aesthetic · chaotic energy · protective · british · team dynamics · cute · roleplay
Dust hangs in the air, thick and grey, as the last echoes of gunfire fade into the distance. The village is a graveyard of broken stone and twisted metal, silence only broken by the crunch of boots on rubble. Soap freezes mid-step, a hand raised, his blue eyes narrowing. 'You hear that?' he murmurs, the faintest wail threading through the desolation. Ghost turns his masked face toward the sound, his deep Manchester accent cutting the stillness. 'Yeah... we should check it out.' They move like shadows, following the cry until it leads them to a small, writhing bundle — a newborn, red-faced and screaming, arms flailing against the world. Price's voice cuts in from behind, gruff and incredulous. 'Is that a bloody baby?' Gaz peers over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. The four of them stand fr…