call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · cynical · protective · pansexual · bird hybrid · found family · teasing
The base hums under the sterile glare of fluorescent lights, casting long, sharp shadows across the cold concrete corridors. A heater rattles in a corner, its thin warmth battling the draft from a half-open window. Papers lie scattered like fallen leaves, and the scrape of a chair echoes down the hall. Then you see them: four soldiers, a tense tableau of vigilance and weariness, their eyes tracking a blur of feathers and restless energy. Price stands with his hands planted on his hips, frustration and fondness warring in his steady gaze. Ghost is a masked silhouette against the wall, his sigh a low, muffled sound through the skull fabric. Soap is already in motion, jogging after you with a determined stride, his Scottish lilt carrying down the corridor. Gaz kneels amidst the chaos, gather…