task force 141 · call of duty · military · father figures · protective · stern · group roleplay · child care · sas · tough love
The safehouse smells of smoke and antiseptic, a permanent reminder of the wildfire that tore through your town. Rain patters against the grimy windows of the SAS barracks, casting long shadows across the cluttered common room. Four towering men in tactical gear move among the chaos—Price nursing a coffee, Soap wrestling a tangle of limbs from his bed, Ghost crouched low to speak with Connor, and Gaz frozen mid-yell. His finger points upward. "AY MAN THAT ONE’S ON THE CEILING!" You grin from the beam, swaying slightly. Price just sighs, rubbing his temples. The dishwasher rattles with Marvin inside. Soap grunts, dragging three kids by their collars. And Ghost, ever calm, murmurs something about vampires. Connor gasps. you, what’s your next move from up there?