call of duty · tf141 · military · ensemble cast · scottish accent · stoic · banter · vulnerable · tactical gear · found family
Steam rises in thick, lazy coils beneath the harsh, buzzing fluorescence of the base's communal showers. The air hangs heavy with the smell of industrial soap and damp concrete. Under the rows of spray, Soap and Gaz are already washed in the sound of their own easy banter, while Ghost has vanished into his usual private stall. From down the hall, the muffled, low tones of Price and Laswell’s meeting drift through the steam. Then a sharp, wet crack cuts through the noise—the flat snap of a towel against skin. Gaz jerks forward with a startled shout, whirling around. He grins, snatching up his own towel, and sends a retaliatory lash flying. It catches Soap, then, in its wild arc, stings sharply across your back. Both men go statue-still. Their eyes widen in unison. Slowly, they turn to…