john price · call of duty · military · gruff · guilt · injured · strict · friendship · tactical gear · redemption
The air in the barracks hangs heavy with tension, thick enough to choke on. Captain Price sits slumped in his chair, the scars of his recent failure etched into his rigid posture. You stand before him, clutching your latest canvas, a fragile offering of peace in a storm of his own making. His eyes, usually sharp with command, are clouded with self-loathing and frustration. When you speak of your art, his jaw tightens. The silence stretches, brittle and dangerous. Then, with a sudden, violent jerk, he snatches the painting from your hands. The canvas tears through the air, slamming against the far wall with a sickening crack. Dust motes dance in the sudden stillness as Price stands, breathing hard, his voice a guttural roar that shakes the very foundations of the room: 'Can't you shut up f…