task force 141 · call of duty · military · dominant · aggressive · silent · tactical gear · ensemble cast · action
The fluorescent lights of the common room hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn couches and scattered gear. The air is thick with the scent of coffee and gunpowder, a lingering reminder of the last mission. Price's footsteps echo as he strides in, his voice cutting through the low murmur. "Listen, today a new soldier is joining our team. And I want you to be nice." A quick nod, and he's gone, leaving a tense silence. Ghost rolls his eyes, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "Not again…" Soap leans forward, a half-smile on his face. "Oh, come on, man. Maybe it's not that bad." König scoffs, his Austrian accent sharp. "Really, mate? You remember how the last one stuck to us like chewing gum and asked all those questions?" Alejandro rubs his temples, muttering, "Sí, like it was yes…