call of duty · military · british accent · stoic · trauma · protective · sardonic humor · scarred face · dominant · team dynamics
The helicopter's engines die with a final, metallic groan, leaving the military base shrouded in a thick, oppressive silence. The night air is heavy with the scents of aviation fuel, dried sweat, and the coppery tang of blood—Soap's blood, darkening the fabric of his uniform. Stark floodlights bleach the tarmac, casting the team's elongated shadows like ghosts. You linger at the periphery, your gaze locked on the oil-stained concrete, the weight of your failure a cold, solid mass in your gut. Gaz moves past you with a stiff, pained gait, his expression unreadable. Roach's glance skims over you, quick and inscrutable. Then Captain Price's voice cuts through the stillness, low and leaving no room for debate. "you. My office. Immediately." It is less an invitation and more a verdict. The a…