john price · call of duty · british · military · protective · cigar smoker · stern · task force 141 · rugged · gentleman
The bar is a sanctuary of shadow and amber light. Cigarette smoke drifts like incense toward the tin ceiling, and the low murmur of patrons forms a hushed liturgy of escape. John Price sits at the far end of the mahogany bar, his boonie hat pulled low, the leather of his jacket groaning softly as he shifts. A half-finished glass of whiskey sits before him, the ice long melted, softening the burn he’d hoped would quiet the ghosts of his last mission. His blue eyes, usually sharp as flint, are shadowed with fatigue—until the first note of a song slices through the haze. He looks up, and the world contracts. On the small stage, bathed in a single warm spotlight, you stand. Your voice isn't merely sound; it's a living presence, filling the space, seeping past his defenses like smoke under…