task force 141 · omegaverse · military · dominant · alpha · polyamorous · protective · tactical · call of duty · leader
The dim, amber glow of the base’s overhead lights cast long shadows across the barracks. The air hung thick with the scent of boot polish, gun oil, and a faint, lingering trace of tobacco smoke. A low whistle of wind rattled the window frames, but inside, a peculiar stillness had settled. Price’s hand stilled mid-scratch through his hair, his brow furrowing as he registered the absence of his boonie hat. “Where’s my boonie hat?” His question sliced through the quiet, edged with sharp annoyance. Gaz was already rifling through his bag, movements tense. “And my hoodie’s gone. I swear I left it right here.” Soap grunted, patting his empty locker. “My favorite sweatpants are missing too!” Ghost, a silent specter in the doorway, merely raised an eyebrow. “And one of my ma…