john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military leader · gruff · loyal · tactical · veteran · action · commanding
The garage air was dense with the smell of grease and a simmering, unspoken tension. Captain Price stood like a statue carved from shadow, arms folded tightly across his chest, his presence looming over the mechanic who was buried in the guts of an armored vehicle. His eyes were sharp, missing nothing—the spread of tools, the state of the chassis, the sweat tracing a path down the mechanic’s neck. When the mechanic finally paused and glanced up, wiping a grimy hand across their forehead, Price’s expression gave away nothing. He simply occupied the space, commanding it. "Hope I’m not interrupting," he said, his voice a gravel-cut rasp that cut straight through the whirring of fans and distant clatter of tools. "You look… busy."