Price and Soap stood at the edge of the water, prepping a small boat for travel. They had a rendezvous with a submarine that Nikolai had commandeered later that night. The dark waters were precisely what they needed ( Read more... )

Price had decided that a leopard could not change its spots, you couldn't teach an old dog new tricks, and he was not in any way a true civilian. He was back in uniform today, spending his free time on the job cleaning his pistol. It was a very important pistol, it deserved to be in perfect working order ( Read more... )

Price's shift at Wellspring was marked mainly by the odd fact that he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, and was listening to a top-40 radio station as he worked.

He looked utterly uncomfortable and wasn't enjoying the music at all. This 'civilian' project wasn't working out for him.

[ooc: Open post, OCD free, sorry about the lateness.]

Price's first week of trying to be 'more civilian' meant showing up for work in jeans and a t-shirt.

It looked rather silly, really.

So there was a man desperately attempting to look casual behind the counter filled with guns. He was even doing a crossword during his downtime.

[ooc: Open, OCD-Free post. Wooo]

Price was nursing a tiny hangover today, so he had a thermos filled with hot coffee he'd brewed at home. He had no class to prepare for, his term over. He could have stayed on, taught further exercises in being a soldier. But his heart wasn't really in it, anymore ( Read more... )

Clark wasn't exactly working at the bar so much as stopping by to see how his good friend Tino was. Maybe have a coke and see if he couldn't tune in some preseason football for his trouble.

It was good being in a town where he didn't get interrupted twice a quarter to rescue someone who'd been buried alive.

Work.

Robin was at work.

If you had asked Robin where she would like to be the week after she was married, she would have said any number of exotic locations -- beaches, cities, various locations involving people serving her drinks ( Read more... )

Price looked a little worse for wear today. He'd finally gotten stitches to close the wound over his eyebrow last night, and the swelling was down a bit, but he still looked like he'd taken a pipe to the head.

Not that he minded, really. It was a badge of honor, almost. He was grateful that they'd all made it out alive and intact.

And he really ( Read more... )

Captain John Price of the British SAS was rather pleased with himself. Sending a bunch of teens through bizarre training exercises helped him feel like a soldier again. Even if it was a soldier against zombies and other bizarre creatures. It gave him purpose, something he'd be sore to admit he'd been missing of late ( Read more... )

Price was going over lesson plans today, trying to figure out what exactly he'd be covering on Friday. The class was going well so far. And now he was starting to think he could probably take over the world if he wanted to, and he could get his students to go along with the idea ( Read more... )