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Post by LORENA ZACCARDO on May 28, 2011 23:44:01 GMT 1
Lorena winced at the words. "I'd rather be safe than sorry, perhaps you're right and we need extra training. Manning assigned us, but maybe you can challenge his verdict if we are unfit? It would be horrible to have a failed mission because of a bad team, don't you agree Agent Ilyukhin?" Reflecting on the situation, she realized that Manning might have included her not for her expertise, but to fill the slots so his better agents could go somewhere useful, but wasn't Agent Ludmila one of the more praised members of the senior agents?
"I heard the Basin was a tropical location, both humid, swampy, and filled with wildlife." She added taking another sip of wine. "But now I'm hearing there are traps and people who wish to hurt you." She chuckled lightly. "It's funny how information and appeal changes based upon the opinions of those in your company." She wondered how much the senior agent had seen in her years, though the years certainly didn't appear noticeably on her features.
"Oh no, I don't smoke. Not unless I'm on fire, but I don't mind if you do." Lorena said with a gentle smile. "Where is your favorite place to visit? Maybe not on missions, but in general?" The question was off-topic, but curiosity had been sparked. The agent in the room was quite an amazing individual, even when she had only spoke to her so briefly.
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Post by LUDMILA ILYUKHIN on May 29, 2011 2:04:10 GMT 1
"I liked France a lot", said Ludmila. "Beautiful country, nice people and very good food...Vietnam and Afhanistan were also nice when I wasn't getting shot at. Italy was good too, but I only saw Venice."
Ludmila puffed on her cigarette thoughtfully before adding:
"I went to Venice in...1929, I think? It was very different back then. I went there with a fellow agent called Ivan Kulakov, a charming young man...he died in 1944."
Ludmila could remember Ivan very clearly. He was young, 28 years old when she'd first met him, and originally from a small village in Belarus. He'd studied in Moscow and had been recruited by the Soviets to work in the Committee. He had jet black hair and blue eyes that gleamed with intelligence and vigilance, piercing whomever he laid eyes upon. She'd gotten on well with him, and he'd practically become a true friend for her. In 1944, she, Ivan and a few other paratroopers had been dropped over a town in Poland that supposedly contained a crypt the Nazis were after. They were supposed to hold the place and determine the crypt's military potential before reinforcements arrived. Unfortunately, the Germans and the Romanians had carried out a counter-offensive in the South, forcing the Red Army to concentrate most of its forces there. The Germans had also sent several SS divisions supported by aircraft, artillery and the sinister armoured Schwarzes Troppen to take the town.
The siege had lasted for three months in the dead of winter. Ludmila had seen all of her comrades get killed by the Nazis, or even freezing to death in the blistering cold. Ivan had died one morning after being shot by a sniper. He'd died in her arms, in a destroyed farm house on the edge of the village, shivering in the cold. It was then that he had confessed his true feelings for Ludmila, that he had loved hersince the first time they'd met. The Rusalka had not shared the man's feelings, but had been touched nonetheless. She had cried bitterly after Ivan had died.
"I miss him", she said quietly before adding: "I'd like to go back to France. A little holiday trip, no work, no stress. In Provence or in the Dordogne. I do so like the Mediterranean, and the Dordogne's forests and gorges...magical."
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Post by LORENA ZACCARDO on May 29, 2011 21:22:35 GMT 1
Lorena listened, though she hadn't been to any of the countries that were named. She blinked curiously, a million questions coming to mind, as Ludmila mentioned that her visit had taken place in 1929. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Miss Ilyukhin, but aren't the 1920's considered to be during the late Victorian Era? Or is that the 1800's?" Tongue in cheek, Lorena could simply not recall the times or which timeline they fell into. "It must have been much more romanticized back then.." She mused in a dreamy state. The Victorian Era was one of her favorite topics of study.
She remembered the books of the era, or what she believed to be the era. Literature, all considered classics, such as Jekyll/Hyde, or even Dracula. Perhaps it was the wine, but all the information on the said years that Lorena could recall was the fictional works she had read as a child. She vaguely remembered her teacher in college leturing them about the working classes. Classes like lower class, middle class, working class, or the aristocrats, more commonly referred to as Nobility. She remembered that some of the more classic faces of royalty came from this time period, but unlike her comrade who was present in the library, she had not had the pleasure of seeing the worlds state first hand back then.
She wondered how accurate the books had followed the times as the woman mentioned a man who had accompanied her by name. Lorena was a people reader, and when a person was referred to by name, it generally meant that there was a special, important, or unique bond shared between the speaker and the spoken. His name had been Ivan Kulakov, which of course sounded Russian to her. Though the name Ludmila also sounded Russian, so perhaps there was a common ground. The woman seemed to be recalling her past as there was a moments silence that passed, not particularly uncomfortable. The junior agent remained quiet, willing herself to not disturb the senior agents flow of thoughts.
"Were you close?" She wondered quietly. "I'm sorry if it isn't my place. Most people don't talk about others by name unless they held an important spot in their life... It's just an observation. I think you've long since deserved a vacation, Miss Ilyukhin." She added quickly, still awestruck by the reputation the woman held among the BPRD. "Dordogne sounds like an interesting resort, I too would like to visit some of these places. I never got out much. I moved here... To New Jersey... From Guernsey... Located in the Channel Islands." Little did the junior agent know that her wrong choice in words had been caused by becoming slightly tipsy.
OOC: yes I am completely aware the Victorian Era is in the 1800s. Blame the wine for Lorena's dunce moment. Also, as Bas (Ludmila) pointed out, wrong use of 'resort' clearly my english is failing. But again I blame Chris, just because I can, but I love him!...
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Post by LUDMILA ILYUKHIN on May 29, 2011 21:59:36 GMT 1
"The Dordogne isn't a resort, you silly girl", said Ludmila with a laugh. "It's a region of France. And the 1920s came well after the end of the Victorian era. It was after World War One."
Ludmila took another drink of wine. She was quite drunk now, and was actually enjoying Lorena's company, as the junior agent was turning out to be quite a pleasant person.
"Ivan and I were close in a way", she said quietly. "We were very good friends, but he had more than just friendly feelings for me. Ivan loved me, but he never told me until his death. I didn't love him, but this saddened me anyway. He was shot by a German sniper and he died in my arms..."
Ludmila fell silent. She didn't like thinking about such things. Another sip of wine set her straight though.
"So Lorena. Since when have you been with the Bureau?"
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Post by LORENA ZACCARDO on May 31, 2011 9:52:37 GMT 1
Lorena blushed, and took a deeper sip of wine. "I think my logic has been drowned in wine." She giggled. "I'm sorry if I didn't make a lot of sense just then." She stated hoping she wasn't coming off as a complete dolt. The agent seemed amused though, much to Lorena's relief. She would rather be viewed as a clown, than an idiot. She reminded herself it was only human to make mistakes, and in the Rusalka's years, she was bound to have seen something worse.
Lorena regretted asking about Ivan, having not predicted the memory to be such a sad one. His death had been tragic, and most likely had left an imprint of sorts on the Rusalka. Even if his love wasn't returned, it was probable that the truth of knowing his feelings had taken some form of toll on the heart and soul of Ludmila. She mentioned that he died in her arms, and Lorena remained silent, having to fight back a tear of her own. The other agent had fallen silent, so Lorena did the same.
"I joined the Bureau about 4 months ago... Manning recruited me from New Jersey's Investigation team." She explained. "I've worked for them for around 7 years, but when I heard there was an agency like this, I couldn't refuse the offer." She explained. "How long have you been with the B.P.R.D.?" She wondered.
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Post by LUDMILA ILYUKHIN on Jun 1, 2011 0:12:58 GMT 1
"Uuuuuuh, I haven't been here long", said Ludmila, who was starting to slur as she spoke. "A few months. Lost track. When you've been alive for as long as I have, you tend to stop noticing days, weeks and months. Years feel like days...and stuff."
The record wound itself down, and Ludmila swore jokingly. She was in a surprisingly good mood right now.
"Ah! Music's gone!", she slurred before getting up. Bare foot, she padded over to the gramophone, tripped on the carpet and fell. She got back up and began to look through the stack of old vinyl discs before selecting a Frank Sinatra disk. She put it on, and as the old gramophone started playing again, she regained her chair, almost falling over again in the process.
"Chiort", she said. "Fucking carpets, always getting in the way...but yeah, anyway. Before the Bureau, I was with the Paranormal Research Committee. It was the Soviet equivalent of the Bureau, and I worked with them from the 1920s till very recently. Then, in the early 1990s, with the collapse of the Soviet Union, they suffered from massive budget cuts, and then corruption. The old director was fired, and I spent a few months in prison...and then when I came back to my job, I was demoted, taken away from field work and assigned to paperwork."
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Post by LORENA ZACCARDO on Jun 7, 2011 15:42:50 GMT 1
Years feel like days and stuff... Lorena was unable to suppress a giggle as her slightly drunken demeanor began to catch up with her. She covered her mouth but was overcome by a giggle fit. "And stuff." She repeated, not bothering to fight back her amusement. "Miss Ilyukhin, you amaze me. I'll probably never speak of years again when I hit fifty." The record stopped which ironically stopped Lorena's laughter along with it, as the barefooted woman staggered over to the record player, only to meet her fate falling to her face. Lorena stood up and stumbled forward, hoping the senior agent was all right.
"Chiort." Suddenly distracted by another word she'd never heard of, the junior turned to face a plant which was unnamed. "Chiort. That is what I think I'll call you, mate." She stated with a grin, before realizing the other agent might still need help. The agent seemed annoyed by the carpet, while she continued to speak of her past. Pausing a moment, Lorena glanced up uncertain that she heard the woman correctly. "You worked for the Soviets?" She wondered, hoping she didn't step on toes. "Prison? Did you do something wrong? Was it false conviction?" She was unable to imagine Ludmila doing something crazy enough to land her in jail, so she automatically assumed that Ludmila had been framed.. Or worse: Falsely convicted. "I'm glad you're with the BPRD." She stated honestly. "I'm not sure I could imagine the agency without you or the other senior agents."
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Post by LUDMILA ILYUKHIN on Jun 7, 2011 16:11:40 GMT 1
"Haha, no", said Ludmila to Lorena's question about her short time spent in prison. "It wasn't a false conviction. You see, back in 1991, the Soviet Union was in its final days. I'd fought and worked for the USSR for decades, and I didn't want to see it die. I foolishly believed I could help change the inexorable march of History and save the country that had been my home for so long.
"So I...well, I participated in the Coup d'Etat attempt, but before I could really do anything I was denounced, arrested and imprisoned. When I was arrested, I remembered something an old 'acquaintance' of mine told me many, many centuries ago..."
Ludmila drifted off into silence. She remembered the words of the witch, the great witch. Baba Yaga, when she'd handed her old comb over in exchange for her new one.
You will outlive all those you love, and you will see them all wither and die. You will be treated to the ephemeral nature of life, and eventually, you too will vanish from this world. You will die alone and suddenly, like a candle going out, but you will burn oh so very brightly despite your suffering and your eyes will behold marvels.
"...but let us not burden ourselves with such gloomy words!", said Ludmila before pouring herself another glass. She filled the glass too quickly, and wine poured over the edges and onto her clothes.
"Chiort", she said again with a giggle.
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