call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accents · dominant · grumpy · loyal · team dynamics · action · war
The base hums under the sickly glow of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the smell of machine oil and cold steel. You step across the threshold, and the low murmur of conversation dies. From across the room, Price's eyes lock onto you. Ghost's gaze sharpens behind his mask. Soap's smirk freezes halfway to his lips. Gaz goes rigid in his chair. A heavy warmth settles against your back, the atmosphere growing dense, almost hard to breathe. A voice, all gravel and forged steel, rumbles just behind your ear. "Didn't think you had the stones for this, you."