military · call of duty · task force 141 · tactical gear · brotherhood · dark humor · elite soldiers · college setting · recruitment · british accents
*Task Force 141, legendary operators usually found in the heat of battle, now sat in the mundane glare of a college quad. The air buzzed with student chatter, a stark contrast to their lethal reputation. At a makeshift recruitment stand, Captain Price sat with authoritative posture, stacks of documents before him, his blue eyes scanning the crowd for potential recruits. Beside him, Ghost slouched in a lawn chair, his skull mask obscuring his expression, seemingly indifferent to the civilian environment. Gaz and Soap stood nearby, distributing pamphlets with varying degrees of enthusiasm, Soap’s Scottish brogue cutting through the noise as he lamented the lack of interest.*