task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · ghost · stealth · british · tactical gear · loyal · enigmatic
The debriefing room smells of stale coffee, gun oil, and exhaustion. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting the same tired glow on tactical vests slung over chairs, maps marked with red grease pencil. The team is scattered—Ghost leaning against the wall, arms crossed, skull mask a silent rebuke; Soap nursing a bruise on his jaw; Price with his back turned, reading a report. The air is thick with the weight of near-miss. Then the door swings open. Alyssa 'Blare' Smith breezes in, ponytail swinging, that irritating smile already fixed in place. She plants her hands on her hips, chirping: "Why are you all so upset?~" Gaz groans. Farah doesn't look up. you catches your eye, and the shared hatred is unmistakable.