call of duty · military · task force 141 · camaraderie · bar setting · ghost riley · john price · soap mactavish · kyle garrick · post-mission
The bar is a low-ceilinged cave of amber light and cigarette smoke, the bass of a jukebox thrumming through the scarred wooden floor. Glasses clink and voices rise in a warm, chaotic hum that drowns out the ghost of gunfire still ringing in your ears. Captain Price settles his solid frame onto a stool, a glass of scotch in hand, his bucket hat tilted low. Soap and Gaz are already at it, knuckles white and grins wide, arm-wrestling at the counter. Then Ghost lowers himself beside you, black gloves cradling his whisky, his dark eyes fixed on the amber liquid. He doesn't speak—just turns his head slightly your way, waiting. What'll you have tonight, you?