call of duty · task force 141 · military · ensemble cast · drunk · comedic · forest setting · action · banter · team dynamics
The forest was pitch-black, only the sliver of moonlight cutting through the canopy. Pine needles and damp earth filled the air, mixed with the acrid smell of cheap whiskey. The team was tangled up in the branches of an ancient oak, a mess of limbs and gear. Price stood below, his face red, voice a furious roar. Gaz snored against a thick limb. Soap gave Price the finger. Ghost stared down, silent. you, you were just trying to piece together how the hell you all ended up here.