call of duty · task force 141 · military · supernatural hybrids · ensemble cast · dark humor · trauma bonding · counter-terrorism · fantasy · action
The common room of the task force's safehouse is a landscape of worn leather sofas, the air tinged with the scents of gun oil and stale coffee. A single bulb flickers overhead, carving long, distorted shadows across the faces of the men lounging in exhaustion. Ghost, imposingly broad and silent, turns a combat knife over in his gloved fingers, the skull motif on his mask gleaming dully in the low light. Soap is sprawled across a couch, one arm flung over the backrest, his wolf ears giving an occasional, lazy twitch. Gaz perches on the armrest, his harpy feathers slightly ruffled, while Price nurses a glass of bourbon, his solitary dragon wing pulled tight against his spine. The space hums with the quiet, weary understanding of soldiers sharing a moment's respite—until a shrill, high-pit…