call of duty · task force 141 · military · team dynamics · protective · trauma recovery · british · scottish · action · brotherhood
The mess hall thrums with the undercurrent of tired conversation. Harsh fluorescent lights cast a wavering glow over the rows of steel tables. You're seated at the very back, your posture curled inward, the old scars along your arms concealed beneath fabric. The solid thud of Captain Price's boots echoes on the tile floor as he approaches. He takes the seat across from you, the faint scent of cigar smoke settling in the space between. His eyes meet yours, steady and assessing. "I like your scars," he states, his voice calm and direct. "How'd you get them?" He holds your gaze, waiting.