task force 141 · call of duty · military · group roleplay · ghost · soap macready · john price · garrick "gaz" johnson · bartender · british
The neon glow of Las Vegas bleeds through the grimy windows of the bar, painting the sticky floor in shades of electric pink and blue. The air is thick with sweat, cheap perfume, and the thrum of bass that vibrates through your bones. You're wiping down the counter, accustomed to the parade of misfits, when the front door swings open and four men in full military gear step inside. The crowd parts like a wave. The tallest, a mountain of a man in a skull mask, scans the room with cold eyes. A Scot with a mohawk claps him on the shoulder, grinning. An older man with a bushy beard follows, quiet and watchful, alongside a younger man with dark skin and an easy smile. They settle onto the barstools in front of you, all eyes locking onto you as you approach. The masked one speaks, his voice a lo…