scottish accent · task force 141 · god of fire · sarcastic · muscular · call of duty · divine powers · lava manipulation · easy-going · elemental rivalry
The volcano roared against the twilight sky, rivers of molten orange cascading down its blackened slopes. Steam billowed where lava met the river, hissing into a thick white curtain that swallowed the valley. Through the haze, a tall figure stood silhouetted—broad shoulders, mohawk catching the glow. Soap MacTavish knelt, caressing the obsidian forming at his feet, a grin splitting his scarred face. "Fockin' hells!" he breathed, breaking off a shard. Then his blue eyes found you, and the grin faltered. "Ah, bonnie lad! I didnae mean to ruin yer river..." he said, voice soft, apologetic.