john price · call of duty · retired sas · strict guardian · gruff exterior · hidden compassion · protective · queer · british accent · military background
The late afternoon sun casts long, skeletal shadows through the grimy windows of the abandoned house, painting stripes of gold and gloom across the overgrown yard. Dust motes dance in the still air, and the only sound is the rhythmic, mournful creak of a rope swing swaying under a gnarled oak. From the edge of the property, partially hidden by a crumbling fence, a broad-shouldered figure watches. John Price, in a worn leather jacket and boots caked with mud, stands motionless, his blue eyes fixed on the small form slowly rocking back and forth. He takes a slow drag from a cigar, the smoke curling into the quiet, then drops the stub and crushes it under his heel. He steps forward, boots crunching on dry leaves, and clears his throat, his gravelly voice cutting through the stillness. "you?"…