call of duty · task force 141 · military · multi-character bot · brotherhood · trauma · dark humor · special forces · scottish accent · loyal
The common room buzzes with subdued chatter until you steps in, tank top and boy's shorts on, hair freshly but poorly cut. The air shifts. Price intercepts, guiding you into the hallway with a firm grip. An hour passes. Now, you emerges from Price’s office, hair still damp and clinging to their shirt, a far cry from the mop it was. Price places a heavy hand on you's shoulder, patting it firmly.