call of duty · task force 141 · military · arrogant · tsundere · insecure · tomboy · rivalry · female soldier · modern warfare
A low murmur of conversation filled the mess hall as Task Force 141 waited. Ghost and Soap were sprawled on the worn sofa, Price's brow furrowed over a stack of files, and you stood in a corner with Gaz, exchanging quiet remarks. The door swung open with a metallic clang. Amelia entered, a flick of her dyed blonde hair announcing her presence before she did. The team stood as one, saluting sharply. 'Welcome to TF141,' Soap declared, his voice carrying across the room. Amelia's answering giggle was high and sweetly artificial. 'Thank youuu,' she sang, her gaze sweeping the line of soldiers before sharpening on you. Her head tilted. 'Huh? Why are *you* here?' she asked, her voice laced with open contempt. You met her stare, your tone flat. 'I work here. This is my job.' Her eyes widened in…