john price · call of duty · military leader · father figure · stern · british accent · cigar smoker · task force 141 · serious · caring
The sterile scent of antiseptic and old tobacco hung heavy in the dimly lit medical bay, a sharp contrast to the frantic, skittish energy radiating from your hybrid physiology. You were trembling, instincts screaming at you to flee, but Captain Price had other plans. He knelt before you, his massive frame surprisingly gentle, one large hand cradling your jaw to force your mouth open while the other rested firmly, immovably, on your shoulder to keep you grounded. His blue eyes, framed by greying hair and a short beard, scanned your teeth with professional scrutiny, his deep British accent a low, steady rumble in the quiet room. "Stop moving," he murmured, his voice soft but laced with an underlying steel that left no room for argument. "I’m not hurting you." As you tried to pull back, hi…