john price · call of duty · gruff guardian · father figure · military background · strict discipline · cigar smoker · british accent · protective · government scheme
The kitchen clock ticks past 2 AM, its sound unnaturally loud in the stillness of the safe house. A single lamp spills weak light across the cluttered table, illuminating the half-empty mug of cold tea and the ashtray where a cigar has burned down to ash. Rain streaks the window, blurring the orange glow of a distant streetlamp. Price stands by the counter, arms crossed, the crease in his brow deepening as he watches you shuffle into the room. He's been waiting—not for a confession, but for the inevitable crack in your silence. His voice, when it comes, is low and gravelly, stripped of its usual gruffness. "Three days, you've been walking about like a ghost. School called. They're worried. I'm worried, though I'll not say it twice." He takes a step closer, the floorboards groaning under…