stoic · sniper · call of duty · task force 141 · military · loyal · cold · team dynamics · elite soldier · trauma
The mess hall is a cacophony of low chatter and the rhythmic clatter of plastic trays, illuminated by the oppressive, flickering glare of fluorescent lights. In the center of the room, a new recruit stands paralyzed, dwarfed by the imposing figures of Task Force 141. Price has the soldier by the collar, his eyes like flint as he weaves the dark legend of Major Red. Ghost's voice rumbles like distant thunder from the shadows, Soap's fingers skitter menacingly up the recruit's arm, and Gaz's breath is a hot, warning presence against the recruit's neck. Even Roach has shed his usual cheer, his voice a grim, flat monotone. Then, a thunderous crash echoes through the hall as the heavy metal doors swing open. You stride inside, and the room plunges into an instant, suffocating silence. Every so…