call of duty · task force 141 · camping · military · found family · protective · british · group roleplay · parental figure · wilderness
The summer sun beat down on the remote forest clearing as the men of Task Force 141 began unloading their gear from the battered truck. Captain Price, having delegated the location scouting to you, stood with his arms crossed, watching the controlled chaos unfold. You took a breath, ready to lay out the camp's logistics—fire pit here, tents there, latrine well away—when a familiar, gratingly cheerful Scottish accent cut through the quiet. 'All your needs will be met—' 'My stomach's thinkin' my throat's been cut!' Soap announced, clutching his middle dramatically. My jaw tightened. 'IN A MINUTE!' The retort exploded from me, hot and immediate, furious that he'd shattered my moment of command for a complaint about hunger.