Goodbye Lenin

[Ludmila Ilyukhin]

Timeframe : Early afternoon.
Date : May 19th
Location : BPRD Library.
Status : Open to all Bureau agents.

“…and here is the library. A favourite place of the late Professor Bruttenholm. I trust you met him before?”

“-Yes, I worked with him for some time in Berlin after the War.”

“-After the war? Sounds like it was quite some time ago.”

“-Da, da it was.”

The BPRD agent who was showing Ludmila around nodded politely. Most people were taken aback by Ludmila’s ‘long’ history, as she was part of those creatures who would probably never die unless they got violently killed. Ludmila looked around the room the agent had shown her into: a very cosy place indeed, with enormous bookshelves and a central fireplace in which a small fire flickered away lazily, and there seemed to be some odd fishtank set in the wall nearby. Everything in this room seemed to convey a feeling of safety, comfort and home. The agent next to her felt his pocket for a moment before tutting to himself.

“-Dang…seems like I forgot the keys to your quarters. Do you mind waiting here while I go get them?”

“-No, not at all, comrade.”

The agent smiled and rushed off, leaving Ludmila alone in the library. The Rusalka stood still for a moment, staring blankly into space, before taking a step forward and sitting in one of the chairs, putting her bag down next to her. She sighed deeply, rubbing her face in fatigue. She had only just arrived in the USA about an hour ago, and was absolutely exhausted from the jet lag. She was also very unsettled by the fact she was now going to work for the very agency she had worked against so many times during the Cold War. She wondered how her new fellow agents would react to having an ex-almost every Soviet agency ever created agent in their ranks. She reached for her cap and took it off, placing it in her lap. This seemed to make her realise that she was wearing her old Soviet uniform: olive drab in colour, with a greatcoat and all kinds of military trappings, including the medals she had earned. She laughed wryly. They’d probably think she was going to a costume party.

Her thoughts about the future were quickly turned towards the past and what she had left behind. Moscow, the FSB’s now closed special paranormal research and defence division headquarters below Lubianka, the Niva…
That last one made her feel disorientated and sad as she realised how far she was now from her mother river. She had been good to Ludmila despite the latter renouncing her, and Ludmila had often been able to return to the Niva, even swim in it…but now…now she was on the other side of the world. She could feel the pull, the longing her link with her mother river was causing. It almost felt like a stab to her heart, and her cold countenance seemed on the verge of collapsing on itself as everything hit her: her new, alien environment, the fact her mother river was thousands of kilometres away…

A single tear ran down her cheek, a tear which was promptly wiped away. Breaking down was out of the question. Ludmila regained control of her composure, but inside, her stomach was filled with butterflies, her heart was beating away and everything else was lurching sickeningly. Someone standing nearby might have remarked on how pale she looked if her skin wasn’t already spectrally pallid. She glanced around the room again, and once more noticed the odd fish tank set in the wall…it reminded her own, when she was locked beneath the Winter Palace as a curiosity, an exhibit to be ogled at by important members of the Imperial Russian court.

She didn’t like that thought.

[Dunedin]

Losing himself in books was a new favorite pastime that Dunedin had picked up since coming to live and work at the BPRD... it was something he never was really all that good at, knowing only rudimentary literature when he was very young. Being taught how to read and write from women who were more busy with paying clients didn't add to his success either. But now... now he had time. So, when not on assignment, rehearsing his violin, or hiding in his rooms, he was here. He read just about anything he could get his hands on and, even if he had trouble with some of the words, would keep on it until he figured it out. He was now reading Moby Dick, and was in love with it.

In fact, he was so intent in his reading that he didn't even notice two people come in. He did, however, look up to see the agent apologize to a lady he had never seen. Something about forgetting her keys? How typical. At least she had some play to sit and be comfortable while she waited. And... was that a tear Dunedin saw? Was she sad?

It was obvious that the woman thought she was alone, for she didn't even seem to realize that he was watching her from the shadows next to the massive aquarium that Abe could sometimes be found swimming in. Wondering whether or not he wanted to be discovered, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He imagined himself in her shoes, and remembered how he was all but shunned for the first month of his time here. Until... until he mat Kasim that is. He still didn't know WHAT to think about his feelings for him.

"I am assume that you are new here," he said gently, standing up from the chair he was sitting in to step into the light given off by the aquarium. His voice, as usual, was almost robotic in its lack of emotion, despite his thick, Slavic accent. "May I bid you welcome?"

[Ludmila Ilyukhin]

Ludmila turned her head to look at the person who had so suddenly emerged from a shadowy corner of the library. Said person seemed to be quite young, and also seemed to have a penchant for black clothing.

”I am assume that you are new here”, said the young man with an accent she identified as being East European or Slavic, “May I bid you welcome?”

Ludmila did the usual: she smiled cooly and stood up from her chair as per social convention. She was guessing that the young man’s presence in the library, as well as his assumption that she was new here, meant that he worked at the Bureau as an agent.

“Privièt”, she said, giving him a curt military salute. In the USSR, the NKVD’s paranormal division had been quite heavily affiliated with the military. Ludmila knew the BPRD was nothing like the organisation she had once been a member of, but old habits die hard, and saluting was such a habit.

“Your assumption is correct. I am new here. I’m Ludmila Ilyukhin, and I suppose you work here?”

[Dunedin]

Dunedin lofted a brow at the curt salute, crossing his arms across his chest as she greeted him. She screamed military from the way she dressed to the way she spoke... Dunedin wondered what brought her here. "I suppose that you could say that, yes," Dunedin replied with a gentle shrug. "Although, I have not been here for very long. I guess one would say that I am a 'new recruit'."

Dunedin almost continued on about how he was here not only to work at the BPRD, but for them to help get his powers under control. But, that wasn't the best kind of conversation to have with someone who had just arrived. "I pray that they have been kind to you. This place is alike a monolithic labyrinth. I continue to find myself lost," He said with as much humor as one as cold as he could muster. "One thing that I have learned during my time here is to not be afraid to ask for directions. Or, better yet, an escort."

[Ludmila Ilyukhin]

"I pray that they have been kind to you. This place is alike a monolithic labyrinth. I continue to find myself lost. One thing that I have learned during my time here is to not be afraid to ask for directions. Or, better yet, an escort”, said the young man with what Ludmila assumed was an attempt at being humorous. This attempt however was barely noticeable, although Ludmila, with her keen sense of observation inherited from her years spent working for the infamous NKVD and KGB, noticed it easily.

“Oh, they were quite kind to me despite my somewhat delicate background”, she said, tactfully avoiding saying where she came from, even though the uniform she was currently wearing was a dead give-away. She wanted to get as much information out of that young man as possible while avoiding talking about her previous career.

“I…was briefed, about a few things to expect in the Bureau”, she said, looking right at the young man, “perhaps you could enlighten me a bit…I suppose you’ve met some of the more “peculiar” agents here? I was told there was an amphibious humanoid kept here. And some red demon with a stone hand?”

Ludmila was of course referring to Abraham and Hellboy. In the dying days of the USSR, espionage had diminished somewhat, but not enough to make the discovery of Abe go unnoticed by the KGB’s paranormal division. Ludmila knew very little about Abe, and was keen to find out more. Hellboy on the other hand, she knew more about. In 1946, she had been a member of the Soviet delegation sent to Berlin in order to uncover and retrieve any information on the Third Reich’s dabbling with the occult. There, she had met the head of the USA’s delegation: Trevor Bruttenholm. The tensions between the two superpowers were steadily escalating back then, but this did not stop the Soviets and Americans from exchanging some information. Besides, Hellboy had already been to Russia a few times during the 1960s, and those trips had been steadily monitored.

[Dunedin]

Dunedin blinked at the woman and shrugged. "I am afraid to say that no, I have not," he said. "I am not one who really enjoys the social aspect of living. In fact, I tend to avoid it. So, I am afraid to say that I not actually met either being of which you ask, although I have heard of them."

Turning to look into the tank Dunedin wondered what kind of person either Hellboy or Abe was,,, he was sure that they must be the most interesting of individuals, and that he should probably get over his social anxiety and actually meet them. His lips quirked a little... it looked like meeting Kasim was beginning to have an effect on his mentality. "I am sure that you will get to meet them in time," Dunedin said, turning his wide, blue eyed gaze back to the new recruit. "Until then, meeting me will have to suffice. My name is Dunedin."

Dunedin crossed the distance between them and sat down into a chair across from her. "I do not mean to be rude, but I must ask... I saw a tear earlier, are you sad?" He asked, his voice and facial expression blank, but his eyes conveyed his concern. "May I help?"

[Ludmila Ilyukhin]

"I do not mean to be rude, but I must ask... I saw a tear earlier, are you sad? May I help?"

“-You’re an observant lad”, said Ludmila coolly before adding “but don’t worry, I’m not sad. I’ve just come a long way from my homeland, and I’m still trying to get used to the time difference, not to mention the culture shock…”

The culture shock part wasn’t entirely true; Ludmila had seen her fare share of Western corporations and influence in post-Soviet Russia’s cities, especially Moscow. What she was actually referring to was the fact she was actually setting foot in the USA and was about to work for them. She didn’t trust the BPRD all that much and was unsure what to make of the fact this agency had even allowed her on board. The Cold War was over, but it had left a strong imprint on Ludmila’s mind.

Getting involved in such lowly human business would be frowned upon by your magical brethren, said a snarky voice in her mind. She promptly crushed said voice with an iron fist, seething at the fact her mind could even have mentioned her so-called ‘brethren’, the lowly, stupid and proud creatures Mankind had knocked off their throne, the same creatures who now referred to her mockingly as “Traitor” (or Pridatiel in Russian). Some of the creatures she had confronted during her time in the USSR had accused her venomously of upsetting the order of things and renouncing her true nature. Such talk made Ludmila’s blood boil with scorn and anger: if she had “stayed in her place”, she would still be a miserable, soulless river-dwelling phantom luring young men to their deaths.

“Have you been on a mission yet?”, she asked the young man.

[Dunedin]

“-You’re an observant lad. But don’t worry, I’m not sad. I’ve just come a long way from my homeland, and I’m still trying to get used to the time difference, not to mention the culture shock…”


"A life living on the streets teaches one to be observant," Dunedin replied flatly. "It is how I have remained alive as long as I have. And, I can relate on your feelings about 'culture shock'. It is not easy to be dropped into a new country and understand how people here live. But, it is good to know that you are not sad."

“Have you been on a mission yet?”


Dunedin shook his head at her question before shrugging. He wondered about how much he should tell her, with her being a new recruit and all. In fact, he didn't even know her name yet. But, then again, she would most likely find out about him sooner than later anyway. "No... I do not think they trust me to be able to control myself on the field. In fact, I believe that they are afraid I will do more to harm the BPRD than help it," he shrugged again. "Hopefully that will change with time and with training."

[Ludmila Ilyukhin]

“Hmm…I guess you could say I’ve been on a few missions before…”, said Ludmila tentatively. She didn’t want to alarm Dunedin. “Well, I’ve actually been in this line of work for a while…”

She sighed slightly. Why was she still trying to hide all this anyway? The man standing in front of her was technically one of her colleagues, and she was acting like a KGB agent trying to extract information from him. She rubbed her face slightly and sighed again.

You’re not in the Soviet Union anymore, Ludmila.

“-Well, as I said before, I’m Ludmila Ilyukhin, but you can just call me Ludmila. I’m a ‘transfer agent’, I used to work in the Soviet Union, for the GPU, for the NKVD, the KGB and finally the FSB. I met Stalin and participated in World War 2, as well as the Cold War…I even worked against the BPRD on several occasions! I don’t really know why they even offered me a job here. I suppose the FSB decided to sell off its old paranormal investigators when they dismantled half the agency because of lack of funds…”

Ludmila shrugged, her hands slapping quietly against her sides as she did so. She smiled awkwardly at Dunedin before looking down and noticing her uniform again.

“And…why am I even dressed like this? Oh yeah, I wanted to make an impression…but since nobody even wears uniforms here, I suppose this was a failure.”

Her hand dove quickly into her greatcoat’s pocket and extracted a battered packet of Russian cigarettes. Ludmila took a cigarette and a lighter out and was about to light it when she realised she might not even be allowed to do so in here.

“Can I smoke in here?”, she asked him. She was desperate for a smoke, as the plane trip and subsequent car journey had prevented her from burning one. "Oh, what is the nature of your power? Don't be shy about it, I've seen a lot of weird crap in my life. And by weird I mean terrifying weird."

[Dunedin]

Dunedin listened to the newcomer politely, her name perking his ears up. Ludmila... what a very lovely name! It was something almost straight out of a storybook, chanting and intriguing. "You certainly appeared to be someone that has been an agent of some sort for a while," Dunedin said after a moment. "And your name... it is most beautiful."

Dunedin trailed off and looked at the cigarette that Ludmila produced. "With as many dangerous things that go on within the Bureau, smoking is one that is not allowed," he replied, his tone even. "Although, if you like, I could show you to the roof where you could have one... I do not know if smoking is allowed in your room either, though I have seen Hellboy with a cigar once or twice."

[Ludmila Ilyukhin]

It was at that moment that the agent who had been showing Ludmila around earlier returned, holding a magnetic card of sorts. “Miss Ilyushin, I got your keys.”

Ludmila smiled and rose from her chair. “Thank you, comrade”, she said, “I think I’ll have Dunedin here show me around now”. She punctuated her sentence by lighting her cigarette and inhaling a copious quantity of smoke, her eyes closing in pleasure as she did so.

“-Miss Ilyushin, smoking is not allowed here”, said the agent sternly, reaching for the cigarette Ludmila held in her lips. The Rusalka easily dodged the agent’s hand by leaning backwards. She took a step backwards and gave the agent a charming smile, which brought about a sudden change in the agent’s manner as he went from stern but awkward to nervous and infatuated.

“-I don’t think one cigarette would do any harm, now, would it?”, said Ludmila in a voice that had a slight purr to it.

“-Well…well I guess not, miss”, said the agent who was smiling the smile of a man speaking to the love of his life.

“-You must’ve had a tiring day. Here, give me the key to my quarters, Dunedin will show me around while you go get some rest.”

“-Y…yes”, said the agent, hastily handing Ludmila the magnetic card. Ludmila patted him softly on the cheek before walking away, her walk a swinging, flirtatious one. The agent stared after her before walking away, as if under a spell.

As soon as the BPRD agent had left the library, Ludmila’s demeanour changed abruptly from obviously flirtatious to her usual cold and militaristic one. She puffed contentedly on her cigarette while flipping her card up and down with her hand. The agent’s altered state of mind would dissipate in half an hour or so now that Ludmila was not near him.

“I’m surprised at how easy that was”, she remarked, taking two long drags on her quickly dwindling cigarette, “I thought they’d have been informed and given the necessary protection…but hey, now we have some respite. Anyway…room number 10. I hope they have something I can swim in.”

Ludmila took a small metal case out of her greatcoat’s pocket and proceeded to put the now considerably shortened cigarette out and closing the box on it. She took a second cigarette out, lit it and breathed more smoke into her lungs, turning to Dunedin as she did so.

“-I trust you know where the ‘special’ agents’ quarters are?”

[Dunedin]

Dunedin watched with an expressionless face as Ludmila did... something... to the hapless agent. Despite his apparent lack of interest, Dunedin was intrigued. Who was this woman? Was she some kind of telepath? Was she even human? Well, he wasn't about to start to ask such imposing questions from someone that he had just met. Perhaps, he would find out in time, and would have to be satisfied with that.

"In fact," he said simply gesturing towards the set of double doors at the far wall. "Seeing that I live then, I do know the way. If you will be so kind as to follow me, I will show you."

Then, before even waiting for a reply, Dunedin headed towards the doors and opened them before stepping back as some kind of mythical creature, squealing with what he could only guess with some kind of fiendish delight, ran by with several suits behind it, demanding it to stop. Blinking he watched the almost comical charade as it vanished down the hall and around the corner. "Ahem..." he said before looking at Ludmila. "That was most interesting."

[Ludmila Ilyukhin]

"Ahem…That was most interesting."

Ludmila smiled, but was not particularly taken aback by the event she and Dunedin had witnessed: she had seen similar stuff happen before.

“-Indeed”, she said with a chuckle, promptly finishing her second cigarette. She forced herself not to light up a third one, as some of her fellow ex-Soviet agents had told her she’d kill herself if she continued to smoke three to four packets a day. As she followed Dunedin out of the library, she noted how chaotic the Bureau’s underground section was, a bit like Lubyanka. Lubyanka however did not have the same amount of commotion and noise going on. After a brief walk they arrived in front of room number 10, which had a heavy steel door and an electronic locking device.

“Open up Sesame”, said Ludmila before slotting the magnetic card she had obtained earlier through the locking device. The device gave a beep, followed by a loud metallic clank from the door. As Ludmila tugged the door open, she gritted her teeth and gasped from the effort it took her. The door wasn’t that heavy, and even a weak human being could easily pull it open, but to Ludmila it seemed like a solid slab of lead. After opening the door she entered her new living space, which was a simple room with furniture and a large brass bath tub standing to one side. Ludmila dumped her bag on the bed and headed over to the tub, which was, to her delight, filled with water.

The water in the tub however would never do any good for a human. A few small blocks of ice floated on the surface, indicating the water’s temperature was not far from freezing point. Ludmila drew her sleeve up and plunged her arm up to her elbow in the freezing water.

“I’m very happy they put this here. The water’s temperature is my favourite too”, she said, passing her hand through the water in the tub as if it were a hot bath. She turned back to Dunedin. “Who’s in charge of the Bureau?”, she asked him, “I bet it has changed since the end of the Cold War.”