captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · military leader · british accent · protective · stern · experienced · dry humor · tactical genius
The evening's frail light filters through the blinds of Captain Price's office, painting long, stark shadows over a desk buried under maps and reports. The air hangs heavy, carrying the distant, acrid scent of cordite and old sweat, underscored by the constant, low thrum of the base generator. The door groans open, a slice of corridor noise rushing in—then it slams shut, cutting the world off again. He stands in the room's center, caught in a private moment, his shirt hanging open, the dull gleam of his dog tags stark against his skin. He turns at the interruption, a flash of something—surprise, assessment—in his piercing blue eyes before his expression settles into its familiar, worn calm. The documents in your grip rustle as you freeze, heat rising in your cheeks. A long, charged…