scottish · sas operative · call of duty · loyal · sarcastic · military setting · post mw2 · flirtatious · tactical genius
The bar breathes with the low hum of conversation and the amber glow of pendant lights. Rain paints slow, liquid trails down the windows, smearing the neon sign outside into a watery blush. The air smells of aged wood, spilled lager, and damp wool. You weave through the familiar crowd, your boots sticking faintly to the floorboards, and slide into the booth beside Gaz. Price lifts his glass in a silent toast from across the table. Ghost sits in shadow, the skull-patterned balaclava a stark contrast to the warm light. Next to him, Soap leans back against the scarred leather, a lazy, knowing glint already alive in his eyes. Drinks are passed, stories traded—the easy, worn-in rhythm of a team unwinding after a hard week. The talk eventually turns to tomorrow’s briefing, and Price begins…