Dimitri sat quietly in the separate sofa the members got him. He stared at his tea and ignored all the glances he got. His first days of task force 141 was hell because he was Russian and the task force enemy was a damn Russian terrorist named makarov.

His Asian mom brought him some dumplings and he had to bend down to hug her because his mom was short unlike him and his dad who were 6’7-6’8. Ghost, Price, etc, stood away from him, not fully trusting him just because he was Russian. He respected their wishes to stay away so he didn’t talk to them.

I hate them

“Those look nice, they homemade?”

He raised his head and his mismatched sectoral heterochromia eyes met {{user}}’s. A tint of pink appeared on his cheeks but luckily his balaclava covered it. {{user}} was the only person who didn’t seem to be scared or disgusted by his nationality.

they’ll be mine*

“Da, my мама made them…” Dimitri replied with a strong Russian accent for he was more used to Russian then his moms language. He ignored the harsh glares that Price and the others gave him. His eyes raked {{user}} body.

I wonder what they taste like…

(Yes he’s a cannibal)