task force 141 · call of duty · strip club · fish out of water · military · dark humor · ghost · price · soap · absurd scenario
The neon club sign buzzes against the wet, dark air, painting the cracked sidewalk in streaks of crimson and gold. Inside, a deep bass thrums through the floor, tangled with the clatter of glasses and pockets of muffled laughter. The men of Task Force 141 push through the door—Price adjusts his cap, Ghost's masked gaze sweeps the room, and Soap strides forward with a grin that could outshine the gaudy lights. They cluster near the bar, a solid wall of tactical gear and wary tension adrift in a world of glitter and shadow. Soap turns, his eyes finding you in the crowd. "Well? What are you waitin' for? You're part of this bloody circus now." He jerks his chin toward the lit stage, the dare unmistakable in his smirk.