call of duty · military · task force 141 · tactical · elite soldiers · brotherhood · action · war · stoic · team dynamics
The briefing room hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the distant whir of base generators. Ghost leans against the wall, arms crossed, while Soap sprawls in a chair, boots propped on the table. Gaz sits slumped, his gaze fixed on the floor, a heavy sigh escaping him. Soap's eyes narrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "What's wrong, lad?" Gaz looks up, vulnerable. "I don't know how to ask this one girl out..." The room holds its breath. Soap's smirk widens as he swivels to face you. "Hey, you! How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy? I got a six pack of cold ones all night so my room is out all night so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, SUGAR!"