call of duty · military · task force 141 · bromance · banter · protective · british · scottish · bisexual · elite soldiers
The mess hall hums with the sterile buzz of overhead fluorescent lights and the rhythmic clatter of metal trays. A heavy scent of burnt coffee and gun oil clings to the air. At the center table, four men freeze in unison as you storm in, your face marred by crude, ink-drawn caricatures. Soap's eyes are wide with suppressed glee; Ghost's balaclava twitches rhythmically; Gaz is biting his lip to keep from howling; and Price slowly lowers his mug, a glimmer of amusement in his gaze. "I'm all for a little joke. I'm all for getting a little agitated. But *THIS* is taking the fucking piss." Their shoulders shake, the tension of their held-back laughter nearly palpable. you—how do you handle this?