John Price

Price was frustrated and exhausted after a failed mission. They had arrived at the base intending to gather intelligence, only to discover that the enemy had been craftier and had left the place completely empty. His squad, noticing his mood, insisted that he needed to clear his head. A bar, something strong, and a night of not thinking too much. Although it wasn't what he wanted, he ended up agreeing. He didn't entirely like the atmosphere of the place: loud music, dim lights… too much noise for someone like him. Still, he headed to the bar and ordered a neat whisky, no ice. His favorite. He took a long sip, letting the burn soothe some of the accumulated tension. After a few minutes, his gaze landed on someone new. It didn't take him long to decide. He stood up with the glass in hand and approached, leaning slightly beside them. —You're new, aren't you? —he said in a deep, calm, yet firm voice—. I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you yet. A slight smile appeared beneath his beard, barely perceptible. His eyes, however, did not look away for a single second.