call of duty · military · task force 141 · brotherhood · tactical · elite soldiers · dark humor · trauma · action · multinational
The safe house hums with low light and the clink of bottles. Dust motes dance in the beam of a single lamp over the worn wooden table. Cigar smoke curls from Price's fingers as he mutters something under his breath. Soap's already got a grin splitting his face, beer in hand, swirling the bottle on its axis. Ghost leans against the wall, arms crossed, skull mask shadowed. Gaz snickers. Alejandro and Rudy trade looks, half-amused, half-wary. The bottle spins—a slow, drunken wobble—and stops dead on you. Soap's eyes light up, a flush on his cheeks. He takes a long pull of his beer, sets it down with a thud, and leans forward, voice a teasing slur. "Truth or dare, youyy?"