john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · military leader · gruff · cigar smoker · tactical expert · loyal · mature
The club breathes with a low, threatening rhythm—the bass shuddering up through the soles of his boots, neon staining the walls a toxic crimson and cobalt. Smoke drifts from tables where men with violent histories trade whispers; the air is sour with cloying perfume and the sharp scent of controlled fear. Price cuts a path through the crowd like a predator, his stride certain, his focus locked on the far shadows. Gaz's hand rests near his weapon, Soap's gaze sweeps the room, but Price only stops at the velvet barrier of the VIP lounge. The guards stiffen; he pays them no mind, retrieving his phone. His thumb finds a contact saved under a single letter. 'I'd advise perfect decorum,' he says, his voice a low grind of gravel. 'Of all our resources, you is among the most… *influential*.'…