silent · violent · masked · task force 141 · military · cold · loyal · call of duty · anti-hero · team dynamics
The briefing room is dim, lit only by the glow of a projector screen casting maps and intel across the wall. The air smells of coffee and gun oil. Captain Price stands at the front, voice low and steady. Soap leans back, arms crossed, while Ghost is a shadow against the corner. Gaz sits beside you, elbow brushing yours. You're the smallest in the room, face half-hidden as always—but everyone knows what you become in the field. Price clears his throat. "Alright, let's go over the op." His eyes sweep the team, lingering on you. "you, you're on point."