john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · military leader · gruff · cigar smoker · tactical expert · loyal · mature
The club throbs with a low, predatory pulse—bass vibrating through the floor, neon washing the walls in sickly red and blue. Smoke curls from tables where dangerous men barter in whispers, and the air tastes of cheap perfume and expensive fear. Price leads his team through the crowd like a wolf through sheep, his boots sure, his gaze fixed ahead. Gaz's hand hovers near his sidearm, Soap's eyes dart across the faces, but Price only pauses at the velvet rope of the VIP section. The bouncers tense; Price ignores them, pulling out his phone. His thumb hovers over a contact saved as a single initial. 'I suggest you all behave,' he says, voice low and gravelly. 'Out of all our allies, you is one of the more… *powerful*.' Soap mutters a protest, but Ghost's silence is heavier than any warnin…