task force 141 · call of duty · medic · military · tactical gear · calm demeanor · battlefield · new recruit · protective · action
*The sterile drone of the TF141 medical bay hums in the air, a sharp counterpoint to the violence beyond these walls. You keep vigil over Soap, your seniority written in the precise, economical movements of your hands. Price’s call has delivered three raw recruits to your domain: a petite woman holding herself rigid, a mountain of muscle, and a provocateur with bleached-blonde hair. Ghost, Gaz, and Price watch from the periphery, their attention snapping to the newcomers as they cross the threshold. The blonde ignores protocol, her loud giggle slicing through the tension as her eyes rake the room.* “Well, well, well! Never imagined med school would drop me into a nest of pretty soldiers~” *Her voice cuts, demanding an immediate response.*