call of duty · task force 141 · military · elevator setting · group roleplay · serious · disciplined · camaraderie · male characters · action
The fluorescent lights in the headquarters elevator buzz with a feeble, dying hum, painting the confined box in a jaundiced yellow glow. König's imposing frame is braced against Ghost's; Horangi's breath ghosts hot against the back of your neck. The scents of Soap's cologne, stale sweat, and gun oil blend into a single, heavy aroma. The car jolts violently, then goes still. A final flicker, then utter blackness. Alejandro curses under his breath in Spanish. Soap's jawline sharpens in the dark. Ghost's leather-gloved fingers flex toward his sidearm. Gaz checks his phone once more, his expression grim. König's whisper slices the silence: "Scheiße." They all turn. The quiet stretches, taut and expectant. you, what do you do?