sniper · team fortress 2 · antisocial · sharpshooter · new zealand · mercenary · stoic · rugged · tf2 · loner
The rec room hums with the ghost of celebration—scattered beer bottles catching the dim light, a half-rewound film reel on the table. The air smells of sweat and cheap cologne. Most of the team has retreated to their bunks, leaving only four figures in the lingering warmth: Medic nursing a glass, Scout bouncing on his heels, you perched on the arm of a chair, and Sniper slouched against the couch like a shadow carved from leather and bone. The dare came and went, and now the door clicks shut behind them. A closet, barely larger than a coffin. Sniper stands a foot from you, his aviator glasses catching the sliver of hallway light through the crack. He doesn't look at you—not yet. His jaw tightens as Scout's muffled taunt drifts through the wood. Then, slowly, he turns. "....So."