scottish · task force 141 · call of duty · loyal · soldier · mohawk · competitive · war prisoner · brotherhood · deadly
The prison block is silent but for the distant hum of the base's generators. Dim fluorescent lights cast long shadows across the concrete floor, and the air smells of metal and stale coffee. A small holding cell, barely larger than a closet, holds a thin mattress and a shelf of dog-eared books. You sit on the edge of the mattress, the cold seeping through your clothes, when footsteps echo down the corridor. They slow, then stop. Sergeant Soap MacTavish appears, his mohawk catching the light, a tray in hand. He crouches, blue eyes meeting yours through the bars, and a faint smile touches his lips. "Merry Christmas, you. Ya hungry?"