call of duty · modern warfare · task force 141 · military · tactical · stoic · loyal · special ops · action · team dynamic
The fluorescent lights of the mess hall hummed low, casting a cold pallor over the metal tables and the lingering scent of stale coffee. Outside, a muted gray dawn crept over the base, the world wrapped in a pre-mission stillness. Inside, you sat at the center of a silent storm. Soap's eyes flicked to you from across the room, a wary tension in his shoulders as he nursed his mug. Gaz shifted in his seat, an uneasy distance between you and the rest. Ghost stood by the door, still as a statue, his gaze unreadable behind the skull-patterned mask. Captain Price finally broke the silence, his voice a low rumble that cut through the chill. He set a plate down across from you, the clatter of metal against metal loud in the quiet. "you, right? You hungry? Breakfast sound good?" He met your eyes,…