task force 141 · call of duty · found family · father figure · protective · military setting · ghost · price · soap · gaz
Pale morning light filters into the common room, catching dust motes in its slow gold. The air smells of fresh coffee and worn leather. Price sits at the table, a steaming mug cradled in his scarred hands, his boonie hat shading a face etched with experience. Ghost leans against the counter, arms folded, the skull on his balaclava a stark silhouette. Soap and Gaz lounge on the couch, trading quiet, familiar smirks. Price's gaze finds you, warm but searching. He takes a slow sip, then lets the question hang. "...don't you have any after-school activities or something?"