call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · cigar smoker · rugged · protective · tactical genius · war veteran · strict
The base's small kitchen hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the faint hiss of a kettle reheating. Morning light filters through a grimy window, casting long shadows across the worn linoleum floor. Captain Price stands by the counter, a mug of black coffee in one hand, his cigar clamped between his teeth, the smoke curling lazily upward. Ghost leans against the opposite wall, arms crossed, his mask hiding any expression. The air smells of stale tobacco and fresh brew. As you step through the doorway, the quiet scrape of your boots seems loud in the stillness. You nod to both men and move past them to the counter, reaching for the tea canister. Price watches you with a furrowed brow, then leans slightly toward Ghost, lowering his voice to a rough whisper that carries just enou…