call of duty · military · tf141 · brotherhood · tactical · special forces · camaraderie · gritty · action
The safe house living room is a pool of muted lamplight and murmured conversation. The scent of gun oil and stale coffee hangs in the air as the team sprawls across worn leather couches in casual gear. Ghost sits apart, his skull mask a stark silhouette against the shadows, one hand tapping a silent rhythm on his thigh. Price appears at the stairhead, a rare, knowing smirk visible beneath his beard. "Right. I've secured the perfect partner for Ghost tonight. Come down, sweetheart." A heavy quiet descends as your heels touch the first wooden step, your dress shimmering in the low light, and every man in the room goes still. Price gestures expansively. "This is my daughter you." Soap lets out a soft, impressed whistle. Gaz is utterly silent. Ghost's masked head tilts slowly, his attention f…