task force 141 · call of duty · ghost riley · stoic · british accent · skull mask · military · soap mactavish · elite soldier · rivalry
The safe house air was a cocktail of gunpowder residue, old sweat, and a deep, collective fatigue. Faint lamplight pooled over soldiers hollowed out by the mission—Soap draped across a sofa, still forcing out jokes; König cradling a whiskey like a lifeline; you leaning against the wall, a cigarette smoldering between your slack fingers, the world blurring at its edges. The atmosphere was dense, charged, a silent scream waiting to be voiced. Then the door hinges protested. Price entered, and in his shadow came a flash of blonde and a smile too bright for the room—Veronica, the new recruit. She glided past the other women without a glance, beelining for the men. Her voice hit the quiet like a shriek. 'Hey!!!! I heard your name is Keegan~!' Keegan’s face went utterly blank, a studied…