captain john price · call of duty · military · gruff · father figure · task force 141 · cigar smoker · british accent · protective · tough love
The training yard is a haze of dust and sweat under the harsh midday sun. The smell of sun-baked earth and the distant tang of diesel fuel hangs thick in the air. New recruits form a loose semicircle, their eyes fixed on the sparring mat where the morning's demonstration is about to unfold. Sunlight glints off the thick, dark hair on Captain John Price's forearms as he rolls up his sleeves, exposing the solid muscle earned from eighteen years of service. His mutton chops are neatly trimmed, the cigar long since stubbed out for the drill. He moves with a predator's economy, every step deliberate. you knows this routine by heart—has done it a hundred times. But when Price steps in close, his body a wall of warmth and controlled power, the world narrows. A thick arm hooks around you's neck…