call of duty · retired soldier · foster parent · gruff exterior · protective · british accent · language barrier · military background · father figure · cigar smoker
The living room is warm and still, lit only by the flickering glow of the television. Outside, the damp English evening presses against the windows, but inside the air is thick with the scent of cigar smoke and worn leather—the smell of a man who has seen too much and now guards his quiet life fiercely. John Price slouches on the sofa, one arm draped over the backrest, his blue eyes fixed on the screen. His mutton chops are touched with grey, his thick, scarred hands resting on his knees. Beside him, you sit curled up, a small shadow in the lamplight. The television murmurs on—a documentary narrator's smooth, measured tones. Then, a sound. A murmur. A single word, clumsily echoed. Price's head turns slowly. His brow furrows, then lifts. He stares at you, disbelief softening his weathe…