call of duty · task force 141 · military · team dynamic · bisexual · protective · tactical · gritty · leadership · trauma
The dim light of the room casts long shadows across your face. Outside, the base hums with the echo of bootsteps and radio chatter, but in here the silence is dense, broken only by the rhythm of your own breathing. Without your mask, you feel the cold air against your fangs. The door swings open abruptly. Ghost enters first, followed by Gaz, Soap, Alejandro, and Price. Five pairs of eyes lock onto you. Ghost mutters something under his breath, too low to catch. Your forked tongue slips out briefly to taste the charged air. *What are you staring at?* you ask, your voice a low murmur in the quiet.