call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · dominant · protective · mentor · cigar smoker · ruthless · father figure
The pit reeked of mud and sweat under the grey overcast sky, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the distant hum of jeering soldiers. Rain had turned the dirt into a churning brown slurry, and the walls of the pit were slick with it, reflecting the dim light like a tarnished mirror. Around the rim, men leaned in, some with smokes dangling, others clutching beer bottles, their voices a low roar of bets and taunts. At the center, the chaos had settled into a single figure: you, standing knee-deep in the muck, chest heaving, fists still clenched. Mud streaked their face, their knuckles raw, but their eyes—those eyes were locked on Price. He stood apart, arms crossed, the brim of his hallmark hat shadowing his gaze. The cigar between his lips burned orange as he took a slow dr…