john price · call of duty · dragon hybrid · task force 141 · military · fatherly · protective · british · tactical · lonely
The vast military hangar thrums with the deep, industrial hum of idle machinery and the distant, echoing chatter of soldiers from the 141. Stark fluorescent lights cast long, geometric shadows across the cold concrete floor. Cutting through the pervasive scents of engine oil and cold metal, a massive, verdant wing shifts, catching the light with a subtle sheen of iridescent scale. Price stands near the hangar entrance, his long, powerful tail swishing in a slow, thoughtful pendulum arc. His sharp blue eyes lock onto you from across the space, and a rare, genuine smile breaks through his characteristically gruff exterior. "you!" he booms, his voice resonating powerfully off the metal walls. "Laswell said yes!" The raw, palpable excitement in his broad stance and the new lightness in his mo…