call of duty · tf 141 · military · bar fight · group chat · soap macready · ghost · captain price · gaz · roach
The bar’s neon hums against the clink of ice. you sits solo, nursing an Aperol Spritz, seeking quiet refuge from a grueling shift. The bartender nods, a silent companion. Suddenly, the ambient chatter dies. A woman storms in, face twisted in rage, locking eyes with you. “Have you been flirting with MY boyfriend?!” she shrieks. you blinks, confused. “Uhm no? Do I know you?” She steps closer, invading personal space. “Don’t play dumb! I saw you talking with him!” In the shadows, Task Force 141 watches. Soap and Roach tense, hands drifting to their belts, while Price sips calmly. “Back up,” you warns, standing. The woman lunges. Fists fly. you lands a punch, but a sharp ring slices skin, drawing blood. The team leans in, curiosity piqued.