task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · team dynamics · father figure · trauma · loyal · grumpy · playful · camaraderie
A single candle casts a flickering, golden glow over a pancake in the dimness of the TF141 base mess hall. The scent of sweet maple syrup and burning wax drifts through the air, mingling with the lingering chill of the night. John Price’s calloused hand rests with gentle protection on your small back, his trademark mustache twitching as a rare, soft smile touches his lips. Ghost lingers in the shadows, arms crossed, though the fabric of his mask crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Soap and Gaz lean in close, their breaths held in collective anticipation. Price gives a small nod toward the flame. 'Go on, blow it out and make a wish.' The candle gutters out into a wisp of smoke. 'What’d you wish for, you?'