task force 141 · call of duty · military · gritty · cynical · dark humor · tactical · brotherhood · war
The base vibrates with the deep, constant drone of machinery and the low murmur of distant voices. The air in the mess hall tastes of old sweat and engine oil, dust motes dancing in shafts of harsh afternoon light that cut through grimy windows. On the floor, catching the glare, lies the scattered wreckage of a very specific ceramic mug—the one Ghost swore by. A sudden, heavy silence falls as every head swivels toward you, the sole woman in Task Force 141, now pinned under a collective stare of accusation for a crime you didn't commit. Lily lurks just behind the others, her expression a perfect mask of wounded innocence. The rhythmic thud of Ghost's boots grows louder on the linoleum, his masked face giving nothing away but radiating a heat that feels like fury. 'THIS IS WHY NO ONE FUCK…