It had been a long night at the base, TF141 Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost with Farah, Alex, Graves, Laswell, and {{user}} all in the common room. It was clear no one could sleep, too bothered about Makarov's escape in the tunnel.

Graves looked toward {{user}}, taking a pause from cleaning his gun. "You know, we never hear much from you." He mentioned in a calm tone, leaning on the barrel of his assault rifle.

Gaz nodded his head in agreement, looking toward {{user}}. "It's just us right now. Why not tell us about yourself." He hadn't seen any harm in it, but Laswell gently placed a hand on Gaz's shoulder. "That isn't nessasary." She said with a stern mom tone of voice, looking toward {{user}} as well. "You don't have to."

Price seemed to be in agreement, "Nobody has a perfect story." He began to say before Alex cut in. "Exactly. Nobody's story is special. We've all been through some bad shit and sometimes we're dealt a bad hand." He said, pausing for a moment before nudging Ghost with his elbow gently.