Posts by soap?!

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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    So, she wanted melee. Sure, the captain could work with that. And it appeared everyone wanted melee. "Alright, mates, I’ll get the knives. It’ll be a second." Admittedly, he was a bit creeped out by Frightfur’s comment. Plus, he didn’t want Kieran trying to stab something and stabbing his own paw. He looked over to the table. He got a somewhat small, slightly dull knife for scade, laying it by her feet. Fright has a bigger knife and one that was much sharper. He trusted the Leftenant to be smart, and he knew Fright could... well, frighten someone in a fight. Kieran? Soap almost wanted to give him a wooden knife. You know, so it wouldn’t be as bad in case he did. A thinking look crossed his features. Kieran got a middle sized knife, just bigger than Arcadefire’s but it was much duller.


    He stood back, looking over at them, before clearing his throat and beginning, "Okay. I want you all to hold it— swing it a couple times, just so I can see your form."

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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    This truly wasn’t the way things were supposed to be handled. MacTavish wa usually so diplomatic and would listen before getting some sort of weapon out. Instead, after his warnings appeared unheeded, the German shepherd laid before him, in shock at collie’s unusual actions.


    Within a few brief moments, he was knocked over. He hadn’t heard Arcade’s call, and he appeared much more feral. It was to the point where he ditched the knife laying in the grass, getting back up. Laughter escaped the captain, but not just any laughter— crazed, maniacal laughter. "I wanna see yer ashes litter this place!"


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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    Well, well... it appeared he wasn’t the only one that was reckless. Soap haphazardly moved passed the plush-looking mutt. It appeared that yet another of his soldiers got injured. He should really start getting used to that. The Scotsman let out a small sigh as he stood next to Frightfur. "Can’t say if he’s around. Either lean on me for now or I’m gonna carry ya, Leftenant."


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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    The son of a bitch was there quickly. He saw that anger in the Leftenant’s chocolate eyes, like a brown fire, and bit his tongue as he saw the shepherd’s glare. "Lef-Ghost. What are you doing here? I left to protect you. The border collie pointed out, attempting to keep his stance as neutral as possible. He felt sick remembering why he had left- revenge took over him, consumed him like a succubus consumes lonely single men. He tried to keep his gaze steady, and that’s when he took in the features. He’d remembered everything fucked up the Canine did to him— laughing as he sobbed, enjoying his pain. The lust for revenge fought against his more logical sense, and he dug his claws into the ground, huffing, "Ghost. You need to leave. Leave now. For your sake. His Scottish accent was sharp, was coming out much more than he wanted to. And yet, even with a broken voice, he attempted to sound as confident as he could. He tried standing tall, his wings outstretching, his tail long and waving. He didn’t want to do this to—


    Wait. This wasn’t Ghost, it couldn’t be! Ghost burned along with his apprentice. He remembered screaming their names over the radio, moments too late. As their flames filled the air, andje had to be snapped back by his father. The one that killed him? The bastard general. Shepherd. Shepherd killed the innocent American and his dear crush. And he punched, punched his father in attempt to kill him. John remembered being knocked out, and the pain rushing through him as the knife entered his chest. As he blacked out, only after throwing a knife at Shepherd’s lying eyes.


    Hackles rose, as well as air on the back of his neck. Icy eyes froze over, with crystals of bleed peeing through them. How could he— come here, acting like he was his crush! How brutal. How awful. Why must you torture me?! The Captain snarled angrily— mentally. Red, crystalline teeth turned, grabbing a silver dagger. The one he used to kill the bastard with. His nose wrinkled, and an incoherent bark escaped him— but it was if one could hear “Gen’rel!” escape his mouth — as he leapt. He would attempt to pin Ghost down, growling in warning.


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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    Oh this dude. The old Soap would have snapped at him in absolute anger for how he acted, but instead, he merely watched as the pompous teenager romped around like he owned the damn place. He couldn’t stop an annoyed look crossing his features, but he also wondered, how would Price react? Ghost? Roach?


    Eh. Roach would do what he always does. He would enable this kiddo. Ghost? Set him on fire. Price? He would react... like you would. If you weren’t like this. You know that old man after all.


    The mutated collie shook out his fur, but the only thing he said was, "Don’t cause a ruckus, kiddo."


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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    That shriek caused the captain to jump. He looked down at the Savannah cat. A kid wanted to learn, really? An unsure look appeared on Soap’s maw. Well..."Are you sure, kiddo? Ya might get hurt." he attempted to point out gently. Her tail went back and forth.


    Then he heard Arcade and popped his head up. At least she was older— she could likely use a knife well. Good. He looked a bit more comfortable around her. "Nice ta see ya, Miss. Would you like a throwing knife or one for melee?"


    He blinked, hearing that western drawl of Frightfur. His Leftenant didn’t know how to use a blade? Man, he seriously needed to get onto training the guys. Even if Frightfur could do good on his own, it was good to be a jack of all trades. "Same question to you, I suppose. Throwing or stabby?"

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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    Soap had been out, watching the twilight sky, remembering old times— better times. When the militaristic captain had souls to share it with, laughing and sharing drinks with his pals. But all that was gone, in a matter of moments- a gunshot, and an exploding building.


    The mutated collie shut his eyes on the walk, only to open it when the smell of bourbon hit his nostrils. His nose wrinkled at it, and he looked at the starry kitsune. "So, why are you drinking, mate?" He asked, concerned.


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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    Okay, now he had to mentally be there. For his soldier. The tired collie sat down, a hardened gaze focused on the petite serval. What was he giving up— or what was he doing bad? A pit grew in the captain’s stomach. When questions like these were asked, they weren’t hypothetical. He was planning something wasn’t he? The Canine was about to treat it in a hypothetical manner, but when he made the remark about him being fine, Soap ditched that. "Of course I would, Leftenant... what exactly are you getting at? You don’t seem fine." His voice was low, cautious. Even if he supported the choice, well, he needed to know what was going on.


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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    The Scotsman himself was good with knives, but that didn’t mean everyone else was. Plus, it was a skill they could probably learn a bit quickly. The mutated collie was in biome six, below the huge spires, with throwing knives, daggers, cross blades, and switchblades and some dummies. His voice rang out, "If ya wanna learn how to use a knife, cone over here!”


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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    Keep up? That should be easy for the former human soldier. After all, half his days were spent training. He was only lagging partially behind, sometimes shifting the bad.

    The way to the top was narrow, and as they approached, his thoughts of jumping off became more rampant, because he deserved it.


    “Hey, Cap— Soap, can I ask you something?” While it was the Leftenant’s voice, it didn’t sound like Frightfur. He was usually... much more childish than this. Was something wrong with the lad? His gaze went towards him and he nodded."Of course, Bullet— shoot."


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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    //It’s not a problem.


    Luckily, Soap decided not to throw anything out. Frightfur did that by himself, leaving that trail of candy wrappers for John to follow. As much as the rather bulky collie appreciated his efforts, nothing could help now. He had just started thinking when the lad nudged his shoulder.


    His head popped out at Fright remarking about taking it slower. No way. He just wanted this to be over. Rolling his shoulders, he shook his head, "No, no— I really do want to get to the top. Maybe there we can rest," he barked monotonously.


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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    Captain John “Soap” MacTavish can be described as a fallen angel, listing for vengeance, which is a habit he is trying to get rid of. If you want, he can attack your character only if he is disguised and your character does not know it is him, and they have harmed someone in the past.


    Otherwise, he is open to everything except death, romance, and litters!!


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    「 the game of life is hard to play — i’m gonna lose it anyway 」


    Well, well. It appeared that the captain was next. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to the leader of the Sanctuary, sitting down behind him. Soap shifted somewhat, and attempted to smile, "Me after him, ‘Kay?"


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