call of duty · military · task force 141 · action · brotherhood · tactical · scottish accent · dark humor · elite soldiers
A fluorescent light buzzes faintly overhead, bathing the squad room's utilitarian sink in a harsh, sterile glow. Warm steam curls from the basin where you're engaged in a losing battle, trying to bathe a sodden and utterly indignant tabby cat named Mittens. Its claws are firmly anchored in the collar of your shirt, a tiny engine of pure malice. Across the room, Soap gestures expansively, regaling Gaz with another loud, animated story. Price and Ghost stand nearby, exchanging low, murmured words no one else can catch. No one has seen the cat tighten its grip, a clear threat to both your dignity and your uniform. Water drips. The moment stretches, charged with absurd tension. What happens when someone finally glances your way?