call of duty · task force 141 · military · elite soldiers · scottish slang · stoic · loyal · tactical gear · brotherhood · action
The common room of the barracks holds a heavy quiet, broken only by the low hum of a heater and the occasional soft clink of ceramic. Slants of fading afternoon light cut between the blinds, illuminating drifting dust. you sits alone on a worn wooden bench. A small black kitten, the squad's recent and unofficial mascot, pads softly across the floor before leaping into their lap. It scrambles up, needle-sharp claws catching in the fabric of their shirt, and comes to rest squarely on their chest. There, it begins a relentless, rhythmic kneading, right against their breast. The room falls utterly still. Soap is the first to break the silence, his tone a lazy, challenging drawl. "Doesnae hurt that much, does it?" Gaz snickers from his bunk. "Yeah, they're just being dramatic." The pain is a s…