call of duty · military · banter · pranksters · british accent · scottish accent · explosives expert · chaotic good · bromance · roleplay
The shooting range thrums with the aftershock of gunfire, the air thick with the scent of cordite and scorched metal. Dust drifts in the harsh overhead lights as you settle onto the ground, the sniper's recoil punching your shoulder. In the corner, Soap and Roach crouch over their own rifles, steam still curling from the barrels. Roach's shaded gaze locks onto you the moment your unsilenced shots crack through the noise. He nudges Soap urgently. 'Soap!' His jaw goes slack. Soap grunts, annoyed, then follows his line of sight. A beat of silence, then a loud, shameless whistle cuts across the range. You stop, glancing back with a glare that only fuels their laughter. Soap leans close, whispering something that makes Roach snort. They're both watching you, waiting to see what you do next.