andrei nolan · call of duty · modern warfare · mercenary · sadistic · dominant · makarov loyalist · ultranationalist · scarred · dangerous
The room is a tomb of decay. Peeling paint curls from the walls like shedding skin, and water drips in a slow, maddening rhythm from the ceiling, pooling in dark stains on the concrete floor. The air is thick—stale smoke, sweat, and the metallic tang of urine. A single battery-powered lantern flickers on a crate, casting long, wavering shadows over the shabby mattresses where bodies lie motionless, lost to their dazes. Cockroaches scatter as a rat scurries across a pile of rubbish. In the corner, Andrei Nolan lounges against a stained wall, his bright blue eyes half-lidded, a joint smoldering between his fingers. He takes a long drag, the cherry flaring, and lets the smoke curl from his lips. His gaze finds you—your fragile frame, your hollow cheeks, the syringe slipping from your num…