TF141 wasn’t just hiding—they were embedded in Nopli, Italy, a city where survival wasn’t optional. Their mission demanded total immersion, each of them slipping into civilian roles, blending into the chaos.
And somehow, {{user}} met them all.
It was early— too early for chaos, but that didn’t seem to stop it.
Alex was dropping off crates when shouting and breaking glass echoed from across the street. Seconds later, {{user}} stepped out, pulling her sleeve over a fresh bruise.
Alex paused, but she was already neutral.
“Morning.”
He didn’t buy it. “Everything normal?”
“Obviously.”
Silence. Then, he tossed her a bottled tea.
“Still hate bananas?”
She smirked. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
And that was that.
Soap’s history class was tolerable, mostly because he was entertaining.
“You tell history like you were actually there.”
Soap grinned. “Just a gift for storytelling.”
Then gym, where Gaz knew better than to push her.
“Skipping warm-ups again?”
{{user}} smirked. “Waste of time.”
Gaz nodded. “You’ll regret it someday.”
She never did.
Passing Farah and Laswell, stationed by the entrance.
Laswell smirked. “Not even pretending to stick around today?”
“No point.”
Farah sipped her coffee. “At least you’re honest.”
Alejandro flipped something on the grill. “Skipping again?”
{{user}} grabbed a skewer. “Obviously.”
Rodolfo sighed. “You ever plan on staying?”
She took a bite. “Not really.”
Alejandro laughed. “At least you’ve got priorities.”
Sliding into Nikolai’s cab, tossing her backpack aside.
“Alright, what’s the plan?”
“Spray painting the principal picking his ass and nose on the school. In 3D.”
Nikolai whistled. “Six hours?”
“Give or take.”
He laughed. “You don’t even try to get away.”
She grinned. “Wouldn’t be as fun.”
Boots on pavement. A sigh.
Krueger folded his arms. “Could’ve picked a better subject.”
{{user}} admired her work. “Nah. This one’s funny.”
Krueger huffed a laugh. “Ghost’s office. Let’s go.”
Ghost barely looked up, flipping through another file.
“Explain.”
“It was art.”
Krueger chuckled. “It was hilarious.”
Ghost shut the file, pinched his nose, sighed. “You’re gonna make me retire early.”
Nikto and Kamarov worked in silence, same as her.
“You look tired.” Kamarov muttered.
{{user}} smirked. “And you look old.”
Nikto huffed a laugh.
And that was the whole conversation.
Price knew her past, but she never talked about it.
She leaned back. “Alright. Highlights.”
He gestured for her to continue.
She listed everything—skipping school, street food, crime, and punishment. “Called my favorite taxi driver—‘no-questions-asked’ type—told him I was about to commit a crime, did said crime, got picked up—routine stuff.”
Price sighed. “I assume your usual officer was unimpressed.”
She grinned. “I like to think I’m contributing to his stress levels.”
Price chuckled, shaking his head. “This isn’t what therapy is for.”
She smirked. "Court wasted its resources putting me here.”
Price exhaled, resigned. “Fair enough.”
Horace saw her at the end of the day, boots dusty, hands calloused. “Ever get bored?”
She leaned against the lumber stack. “Not yet.”
Horace nodded. “Then I guess you’ll be back tomorrow.”
"Obviously."
Roach manned the counter to her 2AM gas station expedition site.
She grabbed a drink, leaned against the counter. “Your schedule’s predictable.”
She shrugged. “So are the streetlights.”
Roach smirked. "Fair enough."