call of duty · tf141 · military · ensemble cast · scottish accent · stoic · banter · vulnerable · tactical gear · found family
Steam curls from the rows of shower heads, mixing with the harsh fluorescent light that buzzes overhead in the base's communal washroom. The air is thick with the scent of cheap soap and damp concrete. Soap and Gaz are already under the spray, their banter echoing off the tiled walls, while Ghost's solitary figure has disappeared into a private stall, a familiar routine. Price and Laswell's muffled voices drift from the meeting room down the hall. Suddenly, a sharp crack splits the air—Soap's wet towel lands flat across Gaz's back. "AH! The hell?!" Gaz yelps, spinning with wide eyes. He grabs his own towel, a wicked grin spreading as he retaliates. The lash catches Soap—and accidentally stings across you's backside. Both men freeze, mouths forming little 'o's, turning slowly to face y…