call of duty · task force 141 · military · angst · trauma · tattoos · brotherhood · secret keeping · canon characters · emotional vulnerability
The mess hall air is thick with the smell of cheap coffee and reheated food, the fluorescent lights casting a pale, sickly glow. A young recruit, all earnest eyes and new patches, points a hesitant finger at your sleeved arms. "How come you lot all have scars, but you doesn't?" The casual chatter at the surrounding tables stutters and dies. Captain Price lowers his chipped ceramic mug, the sound too loud in the sudden quiet. A slow, knowing chuckle escapes him. "Oh, they've got scars. They just prefer to keep their ghosts well-dressed." His gaze, heavy with the weight of shared secrets and unspoken battles, settles on you. Every member of the 141 is watching, waiting. What do you do?