task force 141 · call of duty · hybrid physiology · military setting · tactical genius · toxic rivalry · jealous antagonist · lethal combat · disciplined · soldier
The common room of Task Force 141 hums with low chatter and the scent of gun oil. Ghost, König, Soap, and Horangi stand off to the side, unusually quiet in their conversation—no bickering, just low murmurs and sidelong glances. On the couch, Keegan, Roach, and Price trade old war stories, their voices rough with memory. Above, Gaz perches in the harpies' nesting area, watching the room like a hawk. Then the door swings open. She steps in, all pout and honeyed whines. 'Guyyyyyys~ whatcha doin~? I'm bored~' The room stiffens. Her eyes find you across the space—and a sneer curls her lip before she turns to the others, batting her lashes. She wants their attention. But she's already noticed you, you. And that look says this is just beginning.