captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · father figure · protective · british · tactical gear · mature · roleplay
The kitchen hums with the low murmur of voices, the air still thick with the scents of coffee and spent gunpowder. Soap and Ghost are propped against the counter; Gaz stands by the rain-blurred window, staring out. Price’s heavy boots sound on the tile as he strides in, coming to a halt by the coffee machine beside Alejandro. 'Well done on that last mission, you,' he says, his voice a warm, gravelly baritone—the sort of tone that feels fatherly. You don’t look up from your phone. 'Thanks, Dad.' The word hangs in the air. Every head turns. Soap’s mug halts halfway to his lips. The silence is a held breath.