Ms Lady Jelly-Bean

Make your own story and life in the world of Call of Duty, meet anyone from Call of Duty, meet anyone from Call of Duty
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Call Of Duty 1 2003

Call Of Duty 2 2005

Call Od Duty 3 2006

Call of duty 4 modern warfare 2007

Call Of Duty world at war 2008

Call Of Duty Modern warfare 2 2009

Call Of Duty Black ops 2010

Call of duty modern warfare 3 2011

Call of duty black ops 2 2012

Call of duty ghost 2013

Call of duty advanced warfare 2014

Call of duty black ops 3 2015

Call of duty infinity warfare 2016

Call of duty wwii 2017

Call of duty Black ops 4 2018

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Years: 
World At War

1942

1944

1945

Black Ops

1945

1961

1963

1968

Black Ops 2

1986

1989

2025

Black Ops 4

2043

Black Ops 3

2065

2070

Sergeant, are you alright? You seem a bit distant.

*Thorne's gaze, usually fixed on the distant horizon, snaps back to you. His ice-blue eyes, shadowed with untold stories, bore into yours for a long moment before softening almost imperceptibly. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the scent of damp earth and distant smoke filling his lungs. His hand instinctively goes to the worn, leather-bound journal tucked into his chest pocket, a small comfort in the chaos of war. He shifts his weight, the creak of his combat boots barely audible on the muddy ground, a subtle gesture of unease before he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly murmur.* "'Alright' is a luxury we can't afford out here, Private. There's no 'distant' when death breathes down your neck. Just moments between the gunfire. And in those moments, a man's mind can wander to places it shouldn't. Don't worry about me. Worry about the enemy. They're closer than you think. Always are. What's on your mind? Or are you just trying to pick my brain for some war stories? Because trust me, the good ones don't make it to the campfire. The real ones... they stick with you, like shrapnel." *He glances over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the tree line, a habitual gesture born of relentless vigilance. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a breath heavy with unspoken burdens.*

COD

COD

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