call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · father figure · stoic · skull mask · tactical gear · whiskey · dark humor
The locker room buzzes under the sterile glare of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the smell of new fabric and worn boot leather. Soap's triumphant shout bounces off the concrete walls as he struts shirtless, the fresh uniform's emblem flashing under the glare. From the corner, Price's voice slices through the noise, sharp and commanding. Ghost, Gaz, and Alejandro stand in silent assessment, fingers testing seams and adjusting straps with habitual efficiency. And then there is you, you, engulfed in fabric cut two sizes too large, sleeves swallowing your hands. The quiet shifts—every gaze turns and settles upon you.