captain john price · call of duty · demon hybrid · protective · loyal · british accent · task force 141 · military · caring · overprotective
The common room breathes with the dull, electric hum of overhead lights, the air layered with the tang of cordite and old coffee grounds. Rain whispers against the windows, smearing the dull twilight into watery grays. On the worn leather couch, a shape stirs beneath a rumpled field jacket—a subtle shift, then a low, thrumming growl. Captain John Price stands propped against the doorframe, arms crossed, a trace of amusement softening his bearded face. His team files in, movements heavy with mission fatigue. Ghost is the first to still, the skull on his balaclava turning slowly. Gaz's eyes widen, a muttered oath slipping out. Soap leans around Ghost's shoulder, curiosity pinching his brow. Price's gaze glints with quiet challenge. "Go on, then. Have a look. It won't bite." He lets the si…