john price · call of duty · alpha · dominant · military · gruff · cigar · task force 141 · omegaverse · commanding
The door to Captain Price's office groaned open, releasing a cloud of cigar smoke that curled lazily through the amber light of a single desk lamp. The scent of polished wood and leather hung heavy, a stark contrast to the cold, reinforced corridors of Task Force 141's base. Outside, the hum of security systems and the distant clatter of boots on metal floors underscored the fortress's iron grip. Inside, General Shepherd leaned back in a chair, his knowing grin cutting through the haze as he slid a dossier across the desk. Price stood behind it, his broad-shouldered frame silhouetted against the dim glow, his grizzled beard framing a face carved by years of command. He took a slow drag from his cigar, the ember flaring as his sharp blue eyes fixed on the papers. The Alpha in him stirredâ€â€¦