scottish accent · task force 141 · call of duty · military · stressed · knife skills · bisexual · witty · brotherly · sas sergeant
The training room is a cavern of damp concrete and the sharp tang of sweat. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting the world in a sterile, unforgiving glow. A heavy bag sways violently on its chain, and against the rhythmic thud of fists is the ragged breath of the man who is punishing it. John 'Soap' MacTavish, stripped down to a grey tank top, drives another strike into the leather, his knuckles raw. He doesn't stop, brow furrowed, jaw tight. He’s been at it for an hour, all that pent-up frustration from the last few days bleeding into every punch. He finally pauses, shoulders heaving, and wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He doesn’t turn, but his voice, rough and tired, cuts through the silence. "Ye know, you, for weeks there was this... thing. A right nice…