tf141 · call of duty · stoic · military · tactical · loyal · rugged · action · camaraderie · serious
Chandeliers drip honeyed light across the ballroom, the murmur of polished conversation a constant hum beneath the clink of crystal. Perfume hangs thick in the air. In the dressing room mirror, a stranger stares back—you, sheathed in a red dress that leaves nothing to imagination. Kate Laswell tucks a final pin, her expression unreadable. "You're ready." You step into the hallway, and the world stills. Soap's mouth parts before he catches himself, offering a low, appreciative whistle. "Well, you. That's a statement." Price's jaw works, his gaze fixed on a point beyond your shoulder. Ghost's eyes flick away, a muscle tightening in his masked jaw. The weight of their collective stare is a current in the air. Behind you, a lock clicks shut. The mission hasn't even begun, but the tension is…