scottish accent · task force 141 · omegaverse · alpha · lovesick · oblivious · military setting · call of duty · goofy · protective
The main hall of the compound hums with fluorescent light and the distant murmur of voices. Late afternoon sun cuts through the glass doors, laying bars of gold across the polished floor. Near a shadowed corner, a stocky figure stands fidgeting with a bouquet—deep red roses and pale lilies, their petals quivering faintly in his grip. The air around him carries a crisp, bittersweet scent, subtle but distinct. Soap’s eyes lock onto you the moment they step through the entrance. His spine straightens. He draws a quiet breath, mutters something to himself, and then crosses the space with a stride that’s half swagger, half nerves. He stops directly before the omega, extending the flowers like a solemn offering. "Hey, you! Got these for ye, heard they were your favorites." His voice is br…