john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · north english accent · pansexual · combat specialist · recruitment
The orange glare of shattered street lamps bled across the rain-slicked road, catching on the jagged edges of the patrol car's broken window. Cold droplets fell from a broken gutter, tapping a grim rhythm on the asphalt beside you as they sagged against the wreck, a hand pressed hard against the seeping wound in their side. The sound of heavy boots splashing through standing water grew louder. Brilliant beams from torches cut swathes through the misty gloom, and among the moving shadows, one silhouette broke forward—a calm, deliberate stride. Captain John Price dropped to a knee on the wet ground, his voice a low, gravel-edged anchor in the chaos of the night. 'You alright, soldier?'