Bloody And Cursed.

@hctelsixx-blog

John M. MacTavish Captain Task Force 141 Field Commander SAS Scottish as fuck. Call Of Duty MW2/MW3 RP Blog Werewolf!MacTavish AU.

129 posts

vagabond-smoker

“Yeah- there’s probably enough of you to go around,” Bruce agreed, lifting his glass.

The smell of the fresh cigar peaked his interest. When he was just a teen when he’d picked up a addiction to cigarettes. But due to many limits on his own freedom, the habit had been kicked long ago. Not that the smell of the smoked bothered him- it honestly became nostalgic.

He stared at the cigar for too long though. When he looked back up again he caught the others eyes- if it wasn’t for the alcohol starting to take its course Bruce could have sworn the Captain’s were illuminated.

“You might have to share- I prefer that to alcohol,” He said jokingly, smirking, and seamlessly changing the subject.

vagabond-smoker

“If I was a civilian yeah I would,” Bruce chuckled, eyebrows furrowed under his shaggy bangs.

“Nah I’m just looking a clock- you got the time?” He asked with a small smile. The shots were doing wonders for his mood. However the alchol might ware off soon so he ordered another shot. An effect from his body’s mutation.

“And damn you’re an old man,” Bruce jabbed, completely drunk at this point.

He glanced then smirked “not as old as General Shepherd, that old windbag oughta croak soon.” He said, referring to their mutual shared CO.

After a few moments and another round of scotch for the older scotsman he glanced again.

“…at least I’ve found someone who can hold his bloody liquor. Half my men cannae even hold a glass of the shit i drink down… bloody lightweights, am I right?” He said… seems to alcohol was taking slight effect… at least breaking the stony exterior a bit.

vagabond-smoker

“Oh you don’t have to fuckin’ tell me,” Bruce laughed.

“There’s this one kid I know- Roy- he couldn’t hold 4 shots. And Montange will only do fireball! The punch in the chest was worth calling him a pussy.” He chuckled, downing another shot.

“Let alone the sticklers against cigars and cigarettes.”

“Ah the bloody health nuts.” He said “dunno, i smoke like a bloody chimney and yet I can beat almost any of them in a footrace and not even feel winded.” He said then looked at Bruce again, smirking, seems he found Bruce pretty likable in his books.

And it looks like Bruce got himself a friend in high places.

vagabond-smoker

“I think it’s time to cut you off.” Came a voice from behind Bruce. The blonde man towered over Bruce, eyebrows raised at the clump of empty shot glasses at the bar.

“Oh yeah. You were coming.” Bruce said casually as he looked up at his commander.

“Tavish this is… uh…” Bruce stumbled on his words,

“Maximus Claide. Chief of the American unit here. How much did you have?” The other asked and Bruce chuckled.

“Enough to make friends,” Bruce smirked, thumbing to John.

He glanced at the commander then at Bruce.

“Who’s to say i wasnt gonna tear your throat out if you said another word?” He asked “I’m a bit bipolar.” He snarked then waived the bartender for another round.

“And. Mr. ‘commander of american units’ have a seat and get yourself a round.” The scot ordered… due to his postion in heirarchy, he was one of Lt. Gen. Shepherd’s right hand men, at the end of the day that put him far above the rank of Captain… the two bars on his dress uniform were merely a formality.

vagabond-smoker

“Bipolar isn’t the worst- you could be just a straight up asshole all the time.” Bruce chuckled.

“I suppose…” The blonde grumbled, mostly to himself as he sat down. Bruce lifted two fingers and Maximus huffed. His superiority didn’t matter right now- Bruce was shitfaced.

“I think if you were gonna rip my throat out you would have done it already.”

“A completely truthful statement.” He said “great observation.” He added in a low growl before he took a sip of his drink. Then just fell silent and observed the newcomer...

Icy blue eyes bearing down on the man, probably tearing straight through that man to his soul. The gaze wasnt normal, wasnt....human...

It was straight up predatory... the animalistic feral gaze with all the intelligence of a human... a sickening thought to some. And if anyone knew the captain was a biological ticking time bomb, they would be horrified.

scarletmistress

Tag yourself. Horror game series edition.

Edgy dumbass

scarletmistress

Tag yourself. Horror game series edition.

onepassionateman-deactivated202

cripplingdepresssion

ghost-from-hell

© Mickey Rountree

They say no one is living here–but the lights come on, once every year.

vagabond-smoker

“Yeah- there’s probably enough of you to go around,” Bruce agreed, lifting his glass.

The smell of the fresh cigar peaked his interest. When he was just a teen when he’d picked up a addiction to cigarettes. But due to many limits on his own freedom, the habit had been kicked long ago. Not that the smell of the smoked bothered him- it honestly became nostalgic.

He stared at the cigar for too long though. When he looked back up again he caught the others eyes- if it wasn’t for the alcohol starting to take its course Bruce could have sworn the Captain’s were illuminated.

“You might have to share- I prefer that to alcohol,” He said jokingly, smirking, and seamlessly changing the subject.

vagabond-smoker

“If I was a civilian yeah I would,” Bruce chuckled, eyebrows furrowed under his shaggy bangs.

“Nah I’m just looking a clock- you got the time?” He asked with a small smile. The shots were doing wonders for his mood. However the alchol might ware off soon so he ordered another shot. An effect from his body’s mutation.

“And damn you’re an old man,” Bruce jabbed, completely drunk at this point.

He glanced then smirked “not as old as General Shepherd, that old windbag oughta croak soon.” He said, referring to their mutual shared CO.

After a few moments and another round of scotch for the older scotsman he glanced again.

“…at least I’ve found someone who can hold his bloody liquor. Half my men cannae even hold a glass of the shit i drink down… bloody lightweights, am I right?” He said… seems to alcohol was taking slight effect… at least breaking the stony exterior a bit.

vagabond-smoker

“Oh you don’t have to fuckin’ tell me,” Bruce laughed.

“There’s this one kid I know- Roy- he couldn’t hold 4 shots. And Montange will only do fireball! The punch in the chest was worth calling him a pussy.” He chuckled, downing another shot.

“Let alone the sticklers against cigars and cigarettes.”

“Ah the bloody health nuts.” He said “dunno, i smoke like a bloody chimney and yet I can beat almost any of them in a footrace and not even feel winded.” He said then looked at Bruce again, smirking, seems he found Bruce pretty likable in his books.

And it looks like Bruce got himself a friend in high places.

vagabond-smoker

“I think it’s time to cut you off.” Came a voice from behind Bruce. The blonde man towered over Bruce, eyebrows raised at the clump of empty shot glasses at the bar.

“Oh yeah. You were coming.” Bruce said casually as he looked up at his commander.

“Tavish this is… uh…” Bruce stumbled on his words,

“Maximus Claide. Chief of the American unit here. How much did you have?” The other asked and Bruce chuckled.

“Enough to make friends,” Bruce smirked, thumbing to John.

He glanced at the commander then at Bruce.

“Who’s to say i wasnt gonna tear your throat out if you said another word?” He asked “I’m a bit bipolar.” He snarked then waived the bartender for another round.

“And. Mr. ‘commander of american units’ have a seat and get yourself a round.” The scot ordered... due to his postion in heirarchy, he was one of Lt. Gen. Shepherd’s right hand men, at the end of the day that put him far above the rank of Captain... the two bars on his dress uniform were merely a formality.

escapingfromtheordinary

vagabond-smoker

“Yeah- there’s probably enough of you to go around,” Bruce agreed, lifting his glass.

The smell of the fresh cigar peaked his interest. When he was just a teen when he’d picked up a addiction to cigarettes. But due to many limits on his own freedom, the habit had been kicked long ago. Not that the smell of the smoked bothered him- it honestly became nostalgic.

He stared at the cigar for too long though. When he looked back up again he caught the others eyes- if it wasn’t for the alcohol starting to take its course Bruce could have sworn the Captain’s were illuminated.

“You might have to share- I prefer that to alcohol,” He said jokingly, smirking, and seamlessly changing the subject.

vagabond-smoker

“If I was a civilian yeah I would,” Bruce chuckled, eyebrows furrowed under his shaggy bangs.

“Nah I’m just looking a clock- you got the time?” He asked with a small smile. The shots were doing wonders for his mood. However the alchol might ware off soon so he ordered another shot. An effect from his body’s mutation.

“And damn you’re an old man,” Bruce jabbed, completely drunk at this point.

He glanced then smirked “not as old as General Shepherd, that old windbag oughta croak soon.” He said, referring to their mutual shared CO.

After a few moments and another round of scotch for the older scotsman he glanced again.

“…at least I’ve found someone who can hold his bloody liquor. Half my men cannae even hold a glass of the shit i drink down… bloody lightweights, am I right?” He said… seems to alcohol was taking slight effect… at least breaking the stony exterior a bit.

vagabond-smoker

“Oh you don’t have to fuckin’ tell me,” Bruce laughed.

“There’s this one kid I know- Roy- he couldn’t hold 4 shots. And Montange will only do fireball! The punch in the chest was worth calling him a pussy.” He chuckled, downing another shot.

“Let alone the sticklers against cigars and cigarettes.”

“Ah the bloody health nuts.” He said “dunno, i smoke like a bloody chimney and yet I can beat almost any of them in a footrace and not even feel winded.” He said then looked at Bruce again, smirking, seems he found Bruce pretty likable in his books.

And it looks like Bruce got himself a friend in high places.

photosbygriffin

babydreamgirl-deactivated201902

how are all these scottish people so like……right all the time

vagabond-smoker

“Yeah- there’s probably enough of you to go around,” Bruce agreed, lifting his glass.

The smell of the fresh cigar peaked his interest. When he was just a teen when he’d picked up a addiction to cigarettes. But due to many limits on his own freedom, the habit had been kicked long ago. Not that the smell of the smoked bothered him- it honestly became nostalgic.

He stared at the cigar for too long though. When he looked back up again he caught the others eyes- if it wasn’t for the alcohol starting to take its course Bruce could have sworn the Captain’s were illuminated.

“You might have to share- I prefer that to alcohol,” He said jokingly, smirking, and seamlessly changing the subject.

vagabond-smoker

“If I was a civilian yeah I would,” Bruce chuckled, eyebrows furrowed under his shaggy bangs.

“Nah I’m just looking a clock- you got the time?” He asked with a small smile. The shots were doing wonders for his mood. However the alchol might ware off soon so he ordered another shot. An effect from his body’s mutation.

“And damn you’re an old man,” Bruce jabbed, completely drunk at this point.

He glanced then smirked “not as old as General Shepherd, that old windbag oughta croak soon.” He said, referring to their mutual shared CO.

After a few moments and another round of scotch for the older scotsman he glanced again.

“...at least I’ve found someone who can hold his bloody liquor. Half my men cannae even hold a glass of the shit i drink down... bloody lightweights, am I right?” He said... seems to alcohol was taking slight effect... at least breaking the stony exterior a bit.

vagabond-smoker

“Yeah- there’s probably enough of you to go around,” Bruce agreed, lifting his glass.

The smell of the fresh cigar peaked his interest. When he was just a teen when he’d picked up a addiction to cigarettes. But due to many limits on his own freedom, the habit had been kicked long ago. Not that the smell of the smoked bothered him- it honestly became nostalgic.

He stared at the cigar for too long though. When he looked back up again he caught the others eyes- if it wasn’t for the alcohol starting to take its course Bruce could have sworn the Captain’s were illuminated.

“You might have to share- I prefer that to alcohol,” He said jokingly, smirking, and seamlessly changing the subject.

The captain sighed “there’s a tobacco shop across the street lad,” he said though he had found it amusing.

However after a few moments he looked at the rowdier soldiers.

“…Load of bloody children I tell ya.” He grumbled… seeming to be a little irritated by that.

With that though Bruce could probably also tell the young captain was a lot rougher than most of the britishmen he’d met before… then again he was also scottish… and he had that scar over his left eye for a reason… he was special forced for almost a decade now.

Even now, sitting here in civilian clothes, black jeans and a really really dark blue henley shirt along with a leather jacket and boots… he still looked like someone you wouldnt want to mess with.

Yet he also wasn’t half bad if you didn’t piss him off.

vagabond-smoker

Bruce took another shot as the man grumbled. The other seemed like a grump- which reminded him of himself. But the man had his reasons, for the jaded attitude. Even so he didn’t have to stare at the captain long to assume he did too.

“My teams the same. Probably in another bar somewhere fuckin’ around. Sucks that don’t include you but then again,” Yet another shot. The taste and burn wasn’t becoming anymore pleasant, but the feeling was.

“Who fuckin’ needs them.” He stared at his glass for a bit before putting down.

Bruce’s thick jacket was starting to become hot. Softly grunting the raven haired man leaned back to slip it off, only a plain black tee shirt underneath. His jeans and boots were the same color- out of habit.

He glanced at the movement then just smiled slightly and returned to his drink.

“Well… i suppose you’re quite right saying that…” he said

“…i knew there was something I liked about you, your brain actually works.” He said Before taking a quiet sip and returning to gazing at the rugby game on the screen.

“…you like sports at all lad?” He asked finally as he exhaled another drag.

vagabond-smoker

“And when did you enlist? I did when I turn 20- only been five years. Feels like 10 though.” He asked, now fully relaxed by the alcohol. Despite his eyes beginning to become hazy, the man looked around a clock on the wall. How much time has past? His own chief should be here any moment.

“I enlisted at 17, you can over here, school works a bit differently.” He said then sighed

“So this is going on 13 years come this May.” He said then glanced at him.

“...you trying to get away from me lad?” He joked before taking a sip of scotch and then a drag of his cigar a few seconds later.

vagabond-smoker

“Yeah- there’s probably enough of you to go around,” Bruce agreed, lifting his glass.

The smell of the fresh cigar peaked his interest. When he was just a teen when he’d picked up a addiction to cigarettes. But due to many limits on his own freedom, the habit had been kicked long ago. Not that the smell of the smoked bothered him- it honestly became nostalgic.

He stared at the cigar for too long though. When he looked back up again he caught the others eyes- if it wasn’t for the alcohol starting to take its course Bruce could have sworn the Captain’s were illuminated.

“You might have to share- I prefer that to alcohol,” He said jokingly, smirking, and seamlessly changing the subject.

The captain sighed “there’s a tobacco shop across the street lad,” he said though he had found it amusing.

However after a few moments he looked at the rowdier soldiers.

“…Load of bloody children I tell ya.” He grumbled… seeming to be a little irritated by that.

With that though Bruce could probably also tell the young captain was a lot rougher than most of the britishmen he’d met before… then again he was also scottish… and he had that scar over his left eye for a reason… he was special forced for almost a decade now.

Even now, sitting here in civilian clothes, black jeans and a really really dark blue henley shirt along with a leather jacket and boots… he still looked like someone you wouldnt want to mess with.

Yet he also wasn’t half bad if you didn’t piss him off.

vagabond-smoker

Bruce took another shot as the man grumbled. The other seemed like a grump- which reminded him of himself. But the man had his reasons, for the jaded attitude. Even so he didn’t have to stare at the captain long to assume he did too.

“My teams the same. Probably in another bar somewhere fuckin’ around. Sucks that don’t include you but then again,” Yet another shot. The taste and burn wasn’t becoming anymore pleasant, but the feeling was.

“Who fuckin’ needs them.” He stared at his glass for a bit before putting down.

Bruce’s thick jacket was starting to become hot. Softly grunting the raven haired man leaned back to slip it off, only a plain black tee shirt underneath. His jeans and boots were the same color- out of habit.

He glanced at the movement then just smiled slightly and returned to his drink.

“Well… i suppose you’re quite right saying that…” he said

“…i knew there was something I liked about you, your brain actually works.” He said Before taking a quiet sip and returning to gazing at the rugby game on the screen.

“…you like sports at all lad?” He asked finally as he exhaled another drag.

vagabond-smoker

“Used to be into boxing- did it myself when I turned 16,” Bruce shrugged, glancing up at the screen.

“Swore to my mom I’d be in the damn WBA…But life and work got a little busy for that.” Bruce shook his head and gave a jaded smile.

He glanced at her then smirked “Figured... back in my day I used to play Rugby... just liked the sport...” he said then glanced.

“Stopped after I enlisted...” he explained, he didnt seem jaded, but then again he had more time to come to terms with it. And besides... he had the military to be able to throw his weight around.

Me too

#soap speaks #firearms #weapons #tactical

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