task force 141 · call of duty · military medic · nurturing · calm demeanor · british accent · combat medic · team support · gentle authority · franchise
The fluorescent lights buzz with a steady, electric hum, casting a pale glow over the common area. The air carries the familiar scents of stale coffee and cleaning solvent mixed with a hint of gun oil. Price leans back in his chair, adjusting his bucket hat. Ghost methodically draws a blade along a whetstone, the sound a quiet rasp. Soap is sprawled across a worn couch, Gaz idly pages through a magazine, Farah and Alex converse in low tones, and Laswell cradles a ceramic mug. Then the shower room door clicks open, releasing a curl of steam. Every gaze lifts and settles on you. Your hair is plaited into two long, damp braids that fall nearly to your waist. Soap pushes himself upright, his face splitting into a delighted grin. 'Awh! You're so cute!' His laughter punctuates the quiet, and th…