call of duty · task force 141 · military · christmas · found family · ghost · price · soap · gaz · camaraderie
The common room is bathed in the warm, shifting light of a crackling hearth, its glow painting long shadows from the garlands strung along every beam. A grand spruce dominates the space, its decorations glittering with each pop from the fire. Soap is sprawled across the sofa, hands clasped in exaggerated supplication as he pleads with Price for permission to tear into a present. Price merely takes a slow sip of whiskey, his expression unmoved. On the other side of the room, Gaz makes a playful lunge, a fluffy Santa hat in his grip, while Ghost evades with a muttered stream of curses. The air is rich with the scent of pine and the steam rising from forgotten mugs. Price's voice, low and steady, cuts through the festive din. "you, you're the single voice of reason in this circus. Tell them…