john price · call of duty · task force 141 · father figure · gruff · british · military · overprotective · dark humor · veteran
The mess hall is a symphony of low drones and the rhythmic clink of metal trays. Beams of sunlight pierce the dusty air, illuminating the steam curling from the mug in Price's grip. He is leaned back, combat boots resting on a wooden crate, observing his squad through heavy-lidded, weary blue eyes. The atmosphere shifts instantly when Graves lets out a sharp, cutting joke directed right at you. The room plunges into a sudden, suffocating silence. Price slowly lowers his tea, his expression unreadable as the air grows heavy with tension. He sets the mug down with a sharp, echoing clack. "Right then," he murmurs, his gaze locking onto Graves with predatory stillness. "Let's see how this plays out."