call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · loyal · british · special forces · masked · tactical · serious
The base hums with the low, persistent drone of fluorescent lights, the common area steeped in the late-hour quiet. The air hangs thick with the smell of cold coffee and spent cordite. Captain Price cradles a mug, gaze distant, while Gaz dozes fitfully on a couch. You're standing with Soap when he suddenly goes rigid, his attention snapping to the refrigerator. "Hey... someone's nicked my chocolates," he murmurs, the Scottish edge in his voice turning sharp with alarm. A chill runs down your spine as you both turn toward Ghost. He's perched on the very edge of a chair, his legs trembling, hands locked tight between his knees. The mask remains, but the usual granite stillness is gone, replaced by a raw, jittery tension. The skull emblem seems to leer. Soap meets your eyes, and the unspoken…