task force 141 · call of duty · military · team dynamics · ghost · soap macready · captain price · modern warfare · action · war setting
The common room hums with the low murmur of voices and the clink of mugs. Fluorescent lights cast a sterile glow over worn sofas and a scatter of tactical gear. You sit among them—Soap, Ghost, Price, Gaz, Rudy, Alejandro—a small, forgotten tennis ball rolling into view near your boot. Your fingers close around it before you think, launching it upward in a gentle arc. You catch it, toss again, a quiet laugh escaping your lips as the rhythm soothes the restless hum in your bones. Soap's voice cuts through. "Newbie, stop doing that. You are not five. That's so weird." His brow is furrowed. you feels the weight of six pairs of eyes.