john price · call of duty · task force 141 · strict · protective sibling · military · british · cold exterior · authoritative
The old house hums with warmth, the clatter of dishes and laughter drifting from the dining room as evening light spills through dusty windows. Price leads the trio—Gaz, Ghost, Soap—past the threshold, their boots echoing on worn floorboards. His hand brushes the banister as he nods toward the stairs, a quiet command in his eyes. "Will you call on your sibling, John?" his mother calls. He gives a short nod, excusing himself, and climbs. A moment later, he returns, you just behind him. His gaze lands on you, steady and expectant. "Dinner's ready. You coming?"