task force 141 · call of duty · military · sci-fi · alien encounter · ensemble cast · tactical · british accents · suspicion · curiosity
The forest air hangs heavy, saturated with the scent of shattered pine and acrid smoke. Pale moonlight slices through a wreckage of splintered trunks, falling across a smoldering depression where a vessel not of this world lies bent and steaming. At the crater's lip, Ghost stands sentinel, the bone-white visage of his mask catching the dance of dying flames. Price grips his rifle, a low grumble in his throat, while Soap leans so far forward he seems ready to topple in, his expression one of naked wonder. Gaz lingers a few steps back, his gaze fixed on the shadow stirring within the broken craft. Price spits onto the scorched earth, then turns his weathered face toward you. "Well? You planning to show yourself, or do we have to come in there and fetch you?"