#cod cold war oc

[buggiiguts]

Artfight attack for my beautiful silly wonderful @spenglerpedia with their Bell #get revenged loser

[133mzh]

Cod oc stuff

1: Kievan / Sheriden scar

2: Hans and Kievan

[hamletsleftball]

tw/blood

MY FRIEND,,,, MYFRIENDJSKAKS @onyxkis DREW NADYA,,,, IM SNIDSKAKKSAJ.

AHAHAANSJAJSKAODISJDJAJDIAIIS SHE LOOKS SOGOODOSKAKAKAKS THANK YOUUU

my honest reaction:

nadya's pitch deck for reference!

[shinmiyovvi]

Call of Duty Black Ops Cold War Oc Introduction

「CAUTION: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY」

GENERAL INFO

NAME: Estrellita Agnes L. Gerardo

AGE: 27

GENDER: Female

SEXUALITY: Heterosexual

D.O.B.: August 20, 1954

P.O.B.: Mati, Davao Oriental, Philippines

NATIONALITY: Filipino

ALIAS(ES): Estelle, Agnes, Ness

OCCUPATION: CIA Agent (Cyber Operations Officer)

LANGUAGES SPOKEN: English, Filipino, Russian, German, French

AFFILIATIONS: CIA, MI6

APPEARANCE

HEIGHT: 5'8" (173 cm)

WEIGHT: 147. 6 lbs (66.9 kg)

HAIR COLOR: Black

EYE COLOR: Dark Brown

HAIRSTYLE: Pixe Cut

SKIN COLOR: Light Beige/Medium (?) Skin tone

BODY TYPE: Slim and Lean

FACE CLAIM: Erich Gonzales

VOICE CLAIM: Shamir from Fire Emblem

RELATIONSHIPS

Russel Adler (Complicated Ally)

Helen Park (Ally)

Lawrence Sims (Ally)

Frank Woods (Ally)

Alex Mason (Ally)

Jason Hudson (Ally, colleague)

Eleazar "Lazar" Azoulay (Ally, love interest)

Len Villanueva (Ally, best friend)

Kaoru "Bell" Ishioka (Enemy)

Dmitriev Zakharovich (Enemy)

PERSONALITY

Estelle is am observant, diligent, knowledgeable, and talented woman. She always keeps her guard up and analyzes every nook n' cranny of her surroundings and also some intel that she have acquired in her possession. In the safehouse, Estelle can be seen looking at the newspapers and files for their next missions. As a cyber operations officer, she can forsee the offensive and defensive cyberspace operations.

While she is involved in missions with the crew she tasked her other cyber operators to keep in touch with the other adversaries. Others says that Estelle looks like a person that could kill due to her "relaxed" face, but she is rather open to any conversations. However, no one likes to get into her bad side as she can make someone disappear from making her angry (which is a very exaggerating description of her anger.)

On the other hand, Estelle never reveals her loved ones for safety measures and protection of her family. Even a hint of her profile, she keeps it hidden from others, unless they can be trusted.

BIOGRAPHY

A woman of determination and perseverance, Estelle was born to be the person who was being looked up into and feared by her enemies. She is the second child among the 6 children of the Gerardo Family. As a young child, Estelle can be seen as responsible around the house and the bakery that her family owns. Although, some children around the province wouldn't dare to make Estelle angry due to how hostile she gets when it comes to hurting her or her other siblings, but she is a loving daughter and older sister to her loved ones.

Estelle strives to achieve her goals in life, especially living life with financial stability, a roof to stay on, needs and wants present, and so on. She became an achiever during highschool and got a scholarship abroad (in the US). It wasn't easy for her to live in a foreign country, considering she was born and raised in a province as she tries to adjust within the new life she's living in. Estelle continues to finish college with good grades before she can join the CIA as an cyber operations officer. At first it was a struggle for Estelle, but she perseveres until she gets used to her job. With the Cold War still ongoing, Estelle makes sure she gets to contribute for the agency and for the country.

There she met Hudson around the late 70s and introduces her to Mason, Woods, and Adler before she starts to help them during missions by providing intel, espionage, and attending through missions. During the early 80s, she joined Adler's crew to stop Perseus' plans, but she is not happy and trusting Adler's decision of bringing one of Perseus' men to be used for Project MK Ultra, turning "her" into Bell. Furthermore, she has trust issues with their new member "Feliks Zaitsev" who is an ex-KGB agent that is somehow working with the CIA.

After the events of Solovetsky, Estelle continues to go on missions of saving Adler from Stitch together with the other operators involved. On the other hand, Estelle gets to marry Lazar and has 4 children with her. During the 90s, she works with Woods to aid the newcomers for another chaotic mission they will embark from this new chapter.

[darkhazard19]

Outfit ref for da little bunny Mariana! I revamped her design slightly but kept the basics and I gotta say she’s never looked better 💖💖💖💖

Bonus ref for her tattoos below

[islandtarochips]

Hi dear!😘

I got a quick question about Koa (not that I’m obsessed with him, I am)

How was for him when he entered the CIA? What he thinks about Adler? 👀

Oooooooo! A question about my New Zealander man, KOA? Don't mind if I do~

Koa was a bit nervous to be honest when he joined in. But after meeting with the team at the safehouse. He felt a bit better, even after meeting with Bell, Mason and Aleks (hope you don't mind me adding HER in!).

Everything seems new to him since he haven't entered America before. He has been living in New Zealand ALL of his life. Never once he step out from his home.

And he is thankful to have the three guiding him through. Even helping him understanding the missions that they are going to take.

And Adler? Hmmm. Koa does seem to find this man very odd sometimes. I mean, he does remind him of himself (but Koa knows that he's WORSE) and most of the time he disagree from Adler's plan.

NOT like he want to show off of his OWN plan but he knows that it's risky for the team.

And man, I could imagined of how Adler would just glare at Koa whenever he talked to Aleks and seeing her smiling at him. (Just like Price with Kanoa when he talked to Aly. Remember that Aly? Lol)

So I guessed, you can say Koa and Adler has their ups and down with their relationship. But at the very end (I kinda saw a vid on TikTok about Adler in 1984? Spoiler of course. I wasn't even THERE yet! I think. Like...AFTER he got brainwashed?), Koa was still around to help the team to get Adler back.

So yeah, I hope this answer your question Aly. And I thank you so much for asking about my (or OUR😉) gorgeous man! Love you pele!

[milolov3nutella]

Just two best friends watching TV

[hamletsleftball]

- in death; a wall.

death buds into a constant in her life. CONTENT WARNING: mentions of death, descriptions of a corpse, perseus (the man) mentioned

author's notes: i really wanted to write the connection between nadya, her godfather/uncle/father figure perseus. and how the death of her brother and father linked to her metaphorical companionship with death.

------------

Father’s face was pale when he entered the room.

Her hands stilled their movements, her book soon forgotten in her grasp. She stared blankly.

“Is he dead?”

He paused. “Yes,” came his reply. “He’s gone, zvezdochka.”

------------

The funeral was a small affair.

Held in the church, with the grave dug not too far away in the cemetery, only a small handful of men in uniforms came. Father was there, greeting each and every single one of the visitors, whilst she demurely sat at the pews, watching the back of Mother’s head as the latter moaned and lamented.

“Leonid…Oh, my Leonid. He’s just lying there, why won’t he open his eyes?”

“Oh Leonid. Oh, my poor baby…”

“He is just nine. Too young…too young.”

At the front row, next to the grieving mother, her aunts all gathered around to console the fainting woman. Some with damp handkerchiefs to dab her forehead and neck, some letting her rest her weight against their solid frames, some clutching her hands tightly as if to convey their understanding and empathy for her despair. Like a small bundle of chorus members crying by her side, their cries like a cacophony of dissonant caterwauling and wails before the casket that laid at the front of the church altar.

She hung her head low, eyes trained on her fidgeting hands on her black dress-covered lap.

Silence was her companion, constant and unwavering amidst the frenzied mess of the wake.

Sharp clicks grew closer, with a pair of polished oxfords soon inching across the wooden floor into view from her peripherals.

“Nadya,” the voice gently called out.

When she raised her head, she stared into familiar blue eyes, their once-mischievous twinkle dampened with sorrow. With his hands deep in his uniform pockets, his brown-greying hair slicked back neatly, he smiled sadly at her. A hand reached out to pat her hair, taking care not to mess up her braids.

“How are you faring, child?” He asked, voice a calm rumble.

She only stared. For a while, all she could do was stare, even as his hand still absentmindedly caressed her hair.

Her eyes flitted back to the casket. For the first time, wavering.

“He’s dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sorry for your loss.”

He pulled her closer, and she leaned against him, eyes never once tearing away from the casket’s open lid.

Pasty skin. Pale, powdered, pasty, skin—

“...Am I supposed to cry?”

A pause.

“Only if you want to.” He stopped, pulling back to look down at her with a slightly hopeful—yet still tinted with same solemnness—look. “Do you want to wander around? It will do you some good to get fresh air.”

She stared.

Mother, in hysterics. Father, busy talking with one of his colleagues in low tones.

Alone was she.

“Please take me out of here.”

------------

Death’s second visit was no kinder.

Muffled sobs echoed behind her, dampened yet dissonant and strident far worse than the chorus of tears that had rung in her ears for nearly two decades. The heavy black coat hung from her shoulders like the weight of worldly, familial burden. Wrapped around her lithe frame, akin to his final embrace.

Mother wept. And wept. And wept. And only her cries filled Nadya’s ears this time.

The flesh beneath the casket’s lid was marred with filth that had failed to be removed, despite how harshly they scrubbed the skin of its impurities. The scorched edges of the flesh, that was. Exposed, gritted teeth lined the jawline, the cheek ripped off and torn. Yet neck-down, his uniform was pristine, starched, even if the hand peeking from the sleeve was as charred as the singed skin of his cheek.

Her hand reached down to clasp the intact side of his face, trembling as her fingertips brushed against his cheekbone before cupping his cheek gently.

He used to be so warm. His embraces felt like the encompassing, radiating heat from the hearth during cold winter nights.

Oh Papa.

Foreign was the still cadaver that laid in the casket. Like mockery out of the man she knew and loved.

What cruelty this was.

And yet the church bells rang far too loud in the church, not diffused by a crowd of people who should have come to see what they had done to a man.

Beyond the occasional remorseful fools that wandered in to offer her a bashful, phatic apology in hopes of alleviating their own guilt, the church pews were deserted and empty. Her only constant companions were Mother, Volodya and—

Was it enough?

How could it be enough?

A hand rested on her shoulder.

“Nadya. I am sorry for your loss.”

Him.

Her mouth ran dry.

When she failed to respond, he spoke up once more, “You need to rest, child.”

“I am overseeing the funeral.” Snappish. Matter-of-factly. “Who else will take my place? Who else can take my place?”

His hand curled around her shoulder tighter.

Slowly, she withdrew her hand from the casket, touches lingering on his skin, hesitant and heavily reluctant. At least, may she part some warmth, anything to feel the same heat beneath her palm. At least, may she see his verdant eyes once more, teeming with life and subtle coyness. At least until she memorised the texture of his face, until she memorised each and every dent and mark and pain. Pain, his pain, the pain—

Knuckles brush against her tear-strained cheek.

“He did not deserve this.” His voice is a whisper. A wispy, coiling sound. Thin and brittle and quivering with rage crackling the surface. Both hands of his now grasped her shoulders, pulling her closer.

Warmth.

How she missed the warmth.

“Cry, zvezdochka,” he muttered above her, cradling her close to him. Her eyes slipped close.

“You have every right to be mad.”

They didn’t even come. They didn’t even have the galls to face what they have done. They left the horrors, bared and raw and hideous—

“I will remedy your pain.”

—Tear the flesh, singe, char, rip off the offals of the undeserving, wring the hearts of their ichor and even then could her thirst be quenched? Would it be enough for Him?

“Zvezdochka, trust in me. We will avenge him. As he deserves.”

As he deserves.

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fin. | do not plagarise, steal, modify, translate my works without my explicit permission.