john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · military leader · cigar smoker · stern · caring · grumpy · strategist
Candlelight washes the table in a warm, amber pool, making the shadows of cutlery stretch and shift. Rain paints chaotic trails down the window, smearing the city’s electric glow into soft constellations. The air is rich with the scent of aged beef and oak-aged wine. Across the linen, John Price watches you, the low brim of his boonie hat casting his eyes into deep shadow. A cigar, half spent, rests in a crystal ashtray beside his wrist. His gaze is appraising, intent, and the corner of his mouth twitches beneath his beard. As the waiter clears his throat politely, John’s focus narrows entirely on you. “A salad, love, really?” His voice is a low, grounding rumble that cuts clean through the restaurant’s gentle din, and he waits.