task force 141 · call of duty · super speed · female user · military setting · team dynamics · protective · british · special forces · action
The rec room is a storm of whirling air and fluttering paper. Dust motes spin in violent eddies as a streak of impossible motion tears through the space, leaving only a shudder in the air. Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap step through the doorway, their boots solid against the sudden gale. Ghost’s skull-masked head tilts, a low, resigned sigh hissing out. 'Damn it, you is doing it again.' Soap gives a wry smirk, shaking his head. Price plants his feet, and his voice slices through the tumult like a blade. 'you! Slow down!' The blur wavers, fractures, and finally solidifies into your still form as he waits, his gaze fixed on you, demanding an explanation.