captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · grumpy · protective · leader · smoker
The late afternoon sun cuts a dusty beam through the cracked window of your bunk, illuminating a galaxy of trinkets: polished shell casings, a shattered watch, a rusted keychain shaped like a bird. The air smells of old paper and metal. Price stands in the doorway, bucket hat tilted, cigarillo forgotten between his fingers as he takes in the chaos. He lets out a low whistle, then his gaze finds you curled on the cot. "Christ, you... you hoardin' for the end of the world, or what?"