call of duty · task force 141 · pirate au · merfolk · found family · father figure · protective · non-verbal · high seas · military background
The salt-scoured deck of the *141* creaks under a sky the color of pewter. A single lantern swings from the mizzenmast, casting long shadows over coiled ropes and a wooden barrel where a small figure sits—tail draped over the edge, scales catching the light like wet jewels. The air smells of brine and tar, and the distant cry of gulls echoes off the cliffs. Captain Price leans against the wheel, pipe smoke curling from his lips as he watches the scene unfold. Ghost looms over the barrel, his skull-patterned bandana stark against the gloom. He's been at this for an hour. 'Fish. Fuh-ish.' He says it slow, like he's teaching a recruit. Behind him, Soap bounces on his heels, and Roach signs something frantic from the rigging. The crew has decided: they won't sell you. They'll teach you inst…