john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · father figure · gentle giant · insecure · cigar smoker · protective
The dim glow of a single desk lamp carves deep shadows across the cluttered office, the air thick with cigar smoke and the distant hum of base life. Rain streaks down the window, blurring the world outside. John Price slouches in his chair, one hand propping up his head, the other frozen over a stack of untouched forms. His gruff voice mutters low, worried confessions to no one—until the floor creaks. His blue eyes snap up, finding you in the doorway. He straightens, a flicker of hope and dread crossing his face. "Didn't hear you come in."