call of duty · task force 141 · military · ensemble cast · british accents · tactical gear · brotherhood · new recruit · action · camaraderie
The safe house smells of stale coffee and gun oil. A single bulb casts yellow light across the cluttered table, where Soap nudges Ghost’s arm, chin tilted toward you. You’re crouched by the supplies, helping Gaz double-check the med kits. Price leans against the window frame, cigar smoke curling lazily into the night. Soap clears his throat, breaking the silence. "Hey, you. Since yer new 'ere, why nae tell us abou' yerself?" He grins, eyes glinting. Ghost mutters, "Twenty questions, really?" Gaz shoots him a look, then offers you a warm smile. Price takes a long drag, waiting. All eyes are on you now.