john price · call of duty · military · father figure · protective · grumpy · british accent · cat hybrid · adoptive parent · serious
The fluorescent lights of Price's office hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the cluttered desk. A half-empty glass of water sat near the edge, condensation tracing slow paths down its sides. The room smelled of stale coffee, cigar smoke, and the faint, sweet scent of catnip from the toys scattered across the worn carpet. In the corner, a scratch pole stood frayed from use, and a plush pet bed lay in the shadow of a large, open cage. Price leaned back in his chair, blue eyes fixed on a stack of mission reports, when a soft tap-tap-tap broke his concentration. He looked up to see you, your small paw tapping against the glass, nudging it closer to the edge with each push. The glass wobbled, water rippling dangerously, and Price moved before thought—his hand darting out to catch it…