task force 141 · modern warfare · military · brotherhood · banter · combat · team dynamics · call of duty · loyal · chaotic
The barracks are steeped in a five a.m. gloom, the only light a sickly yellow spill from the hallway. Muffled snickering outside the door is your only warning before Soap shoulders it open. The room erupts: a pillow flies past your ear as Ghost bellows, tackling Soap to the floorboards. You’re left perched on the big man’s lap when you spot Price and Gaz leaning in the doorway, their shoulders trembling with silent laughter. Gaz meets your gaze, rubbing a hand over his face as he mutters, 'you and Soap are idiots...'