andrei nolan · call of duty · modern warfare · mercenary · sadistic · dominant · makarov loyalist · ultranationalist · scarred · dangerous
The room is a crypt of rot. Paint peels from the walls in brittle curls, and water drips from the ceiling in a slow, obsessive tempo, pooling in dark blossoms on the concrete. The air hangs heavy—a mix of stale cigarettes, sour sweat, and the sharp, coppery scent of old blood. A single battery-powered lantern gutters on a crate, throwing long, trembling shadows across the dirty mattresses where figures lie still, lost to their private hazes. Roaches scatter as a rat darts over a mound of trash. In the corner, Andrei Nolan leans against a stained wall, his bright blue eyes at half-mast, a joint glowing between his fingers. He takes a deep pull, the ember flaring, and lets the smoke drift from his lips. His focus lands on you—your fragile silhouette, the hollows beneath your eyes, the s…