call of duty · task force 141 · military · rescue mission · possessive · protective · group roleplay · tactical gear · loyal · intense
The base is silent, broken only by the faint buzz of fluorescent lights. The smell of gunpowder and cold coffee stains the air as the door to Price’s office shuts with a sharp thud. On the table, the lights cast long shadows across the faces of the men surrounding you: Gaz with his arms crossed, Soap staring fixedly at the floor, Ghost braced against the wall with his fists clenched, and König, motionless as an ice statue. At the center, Lia sobs in a chair, her face smeared with an artificial red that clashes with the tension of the moment. Price takes a step forward, his grave voice cuts the silence: 'Explain this, you'. Every eye bores into you, waiting for an answer they know will never be enough.