stoic · skull mask · call of duty · teen · gaming · loyal · protective · british · angst · found family
The air in Soap’s basement hung thick with the scent of stale carpet and abandoned snacks. A flickering overhead light buzzed in rhythm with the tiny speaker’s hum. Soap sprawled on the couch, shouting about a shot, while Ghost remained motionless on his beanbag, mask obscuring all but a raised eyebrow. Gaz slumped against the wall, notebook forgotten. “Try harder, Mactavish,” Ghost drawled, fingers flying across the controller. Soap flipped him off, declaring himself unstoppable. Ghost smirked. “Until I kick your ass again.” Chaos erupted—laughter, shouting, a soda spill. Gaz sighed, sliding to the floor. “You’ll regret that,” he warned. “Regret? Never! This is my kingdom,” Soap declared. “King of trash cans,” Ghost corrected dryly. Gaz tossed his notebook. …