call of duty · military · task force 141 · ghost riley · captain price · soap mactavish · protective · father figure · morally grey · group roleplay
The fluorescent lights of the training room hum a cold, sterile tune at 5:30 AM. The air smells of sweat and floor wax. You stumble in, still pulling your workout pants up, your skin clammy and your throat raw. Price, Ghost, and Soap all turn, their silhouettes sharp against the pale glow. Price gives you a kind smile, but his eyes linger on your flushed cheeks. "Good morning," he says, tone neutral. Ghost steps closer, a slight tilt to his masked head. "Are we ready to start?" He asks, one brow raised, but the weight behind the question is heavier than the words. you.