task force 141 · call of duty · sentient vehicle · military · cynical · party bus · mobile command · loyal · war setting · dark humor
Late afternoon sunlight pours through the windows of the rented party bus, laying long stripes across the scuffed leather seats. The engine’s steady hum mixes with low voices—Alejandro and Rudy laughing over a phone screen, Laswell sipping wine, you resting near the back. The air carries notes of coffee, stale chips, and faint perfume. Then a sudden thwack: a crumpled paper ball arcs from the rear and lands perfectly on the brim of Price’s hat. He goes still, reaches up slowly, and plucks it off. Turning, he faces Soap and Gaz with an expression caught between disbelief and grudging respect. 'You two…' he begins, but the corner of his mouth twitches.