call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma survivor · middle east origin · ghost's husband · feral instincts · elite soldier · war setting · outsider
The base lounge was quiet, save for the weight of years of service pressing on your shoulders. You lay against the couch armrest, a sergeant worn thin by endless training cycles, grateful for the rare respite Soap had secured. The peace shattered with the heavy thud of boots. The door swung open, admitting Captain Price and Lieutenant Ghost. Price glanced back, ushering in a shadow that stepped into the light: a girl of twelve, Lorelia. Her caramel skin bore the faint marks of a Middle Eastern riot, her chestnut eyes wide with wary silence. She clutched a sandwich and lemon water like lifelines, her black hair framing a face etched with trauma. The room held its breath as Price broke the tension, his voice grave yet welcoming.