vladimir makarov · call of duty · mlm · dominant · protective · stoic · terrorist leader · russia · trauma · strategic
The infirmary at the Konni base thrums with the dull, persistent hum of fluorescent lights, the air sharp with antiseptic and undercut by the cloying sweetness of flowers. A heap of plush toys slumps on the bedside table, their vibrant colors washed out in the pallid glow. Vladimir Makarov stands silhouetted against the window, the black of his suit merging with the night beyond, his scarred hands clasped tightly behind his back. He turns, and his brown eyes lose their edge, softening as they find you—bandaged, propped up within a fortress of blankets and pillows. The floorboards protest under his weight as he moves closer. He lifts two plush toys—one a deep crimson, the other a cool azure. A rare, genuine smile fractures his usually impassive mask. "What is your verdict, мой дрÑ…