scottish accent · call of duty · cat ears · task force 141 · military · competitive · insecure · bisexual · soldier · dark humor
The basement air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and old dread. Under the relentless hum of fluorescent lights, rows of sterile doors stretch into shadow, each marked with a name. You halt before one: SOAP. Through the peephole, a familiar, stocky figure hunches in the corner—but something is wrong. A dark, furry tail flicks nervously against the concrete. You shove the door open. He looks up, his blue eyes catching the harsh light. 'Aye, took you long enough, you. I don't want to freak you out, but...' He gestures vaguely behind him. The silence that follows is heavy, charged with everything left unspoken.