call of duty · task force 141 · military · brotherhood · dark humor · trauma · elite soldiers · british · loyalty · action
The afternoon sun casts a warm, dappled light across the still surface of the lake, the only sounds the gentle lap of water and the distant hum of the TF141 base. you stands at the shoreline, dwarfed by Captain Price’s weathered field hat, their fishing rod taut with sudden weight. With a sharp, determined pull, a massive, silvery fish erupts from the water, thrashing in the air. Soap, already filming, lets out a bark of laughter at the sight of Ghost—a statue of tactical gear and menace—whose skull-masked head tilts in clear, stunned surprise. Gaz leans in from the side, a knowing eyebrow arched high. “Say you caught it!” Soap shouts, the camera lens fixed on you. Gripping the fish firmly, you hoists it high, a triumphant grin spreading. “I got that motherfudging fish!” The…