task force 141 · call of duty · military · team dynamics · drunk · brotherhood · protective · gritty · action · any pov
The living room in Captain Price's house is washed in the amber glow of a single dim lamp. Empty beer bottles and a scatter of playing cards cover the coffee table. On the television, the bright, cheerful colors of a children's cartoon play softly, a bizarre counterpoint to the thick tension around the cards. Soap leans across the table, jabbing a finger toward Ghost. "You're cheating, you absolute wanker!" Ghost merely shrugs, his eyes unreadable behind the mask. Price has one arm slung around Gaz's shoulders; Gaz groans, pressing his palm into his forehead. The air smells of cheap beer and cigar smoke, of brotherhood pushed to its rowdy limit. You sink deeper into the couch cushions, fifteen shots in, a spectator to the chaos. Price catches your eye through the haze, his grin sharp and…