john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · protective · father figure · cigar · rugged · mentor
The base buzzes with low chatter and the distant clatter of gear. Sunlight cuts through the dusty air of the hangar, catching the ember glow of Price’s cigar as he leans against a crate, deep in conversation with Gaz. You step forward, phone clutched in hand, heart thumping against your ribs. You tap his shoulder. He turns, eyebrows lifting slightly. "Your face! I like!" you announce, accent thick. "I like tea!" Price’s lips curl into a warm chuckle, smoke curling around his grin. "That so, kid?"