1616/Under the Iron Sea

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Under the Iron Sea
Date of Scene: 24 July 2017
Location: By the East River, New York City
Synopsis: Two old Soviet relics, the Winter Soldier and Akula, re-find one another in America in the 21st century.
Cast of Characters: Winter Soldier, Akula




Winter Soldier has posed:
At two AM on a weeknight, even a city like New York gets quiet. There is no wind, and a perfect image of the gibbous moon reflects in the black water of the East River.

A few moments later, that pale reflection breaks up as a few drops of blood hit square in its center, and disperse.

Tracing back the blood to its source reveals the glint of a knife blade, held by a silent figure mantled on the rocks by the water's edge, far enough below the streets that he cannot be seen save from the water. The silver of the weapon rhymes with the silver of his exposed left arm, both speckled lightly with red.

A windless, quiet night like this makes for decent hunting and easy kills. The Winter Soldier makes most of his seem like accidents-- the better to fly under the radar-- but sometimes he enjoys the catharsis of a mission whose parameters do not specify any need for discretion, and in fact call for a little bit of outright terrorization.

The downtime after a kill always inspires a little melancholy, and the Soldier does not seem in a hurry to leave. Excess blood shaken free, he pulls out a cloth and starts to clean the blade.

Akula has posed:
The blood in the water isn't missed. It's easy to smell, especially at a range that is probably closer than anticipated for the Winter Soldier.

She enjoys creating a little terror all her own. Rather than remain hidden until the last moment - as she would to enact a fast kill - she opts to let her back fin breach the water within Winter Soldier's eye sight. As the fin rises and sinks, it's followed by a loud slap of water, tail against the surface, as the water churns and ripples outwards.

Winter Soldier has posed:
His eyes turn to the sight of that fin in the water. By the time the sound of tail against the water's surface rings out, he has his knife sheathed and a .45 in his right hand. His gaze follows the creature's expected trajectory.

Sometimes, dolphins do come up the East River a ways. The Winter Soldier knows just enough to be aware that that is emphatically not a dolphin. What it actually is remains to be seen, as does its intentions. He stands slowly, the better to move quickly if the need arises.

It could just be an animal. But a man doesn't persist over the course of a century by being careless.

Akula has posed:
Akula is feeling playful today.

She's been, for lack of a better term, 'trolling' everyone she meets, from shouting Vanya out of a tree while the other Russian slept, to picking a fight with Juggernaut just to see how far she could last - and winding him up afterwards. Thirty years of self-imposed isolation has at last been ended, and she is allowing herself to have some "shore leave", as it were, before she sets herself back on duty. Such as it will be. Such as it can be, given the fall of the only nation she recognized as worthy of her service and sacrifice.

She circles beneath the waves, diving as far as the water will allow, before shooting herself straight towards Winter Soldier's position, torpedoing through the water at a good sixty miles an hour, closing distance fast. As she comes to the shoreline, she draws her legs under her and kicks upwards, taking advantage of momentum to make her explode upwards out of the water, eight feet of humanoid shark bursting from the water in front of Winter Soldier.

She holds out her arms as if to grab him up in a bear hug or tackle him, a wild look in her eyes, roaring through a fanged grin. "GYAAAAAAAH!"

Winter Soldier has posed:
The Winter Soldier's head tilts to the sudden sound of rushing water being displaced deep beneath the surface. With a surefooted silence he steps back from the very edge of the water, backing up the rocks a short distance to gain a better vantage point.

Whatever it is is getting closer. Very fast.

Then, of a sudden, eight feet of shark leaps clean out of the water, arms open, fangs flashing, roaring with great enthusiasm. It's an extraordinarily intimidating display, to be sure, which is why once the spray and splash and river-foam clear, it will be to reveal the Winter Soldier aiming his .45 straight between Akula's eyes with dead-eye calm.

There is a distinct pause. The Winter Soldier, scourge of the West, patron saint of Soviet killers... drips slowly and rather anticlimactically on the rocks, because he is now soaked with a good portion of the East River himself. It's not his preferred look.

Then his finger slides off the trigger. "They didn't beat the impulsiveness out of you, Ulianka," he grumps. "So I see."

Akula has posed:
Well, that takes the steam out of things, doesn't it?

The impressive roar dies into a little surprised squeak in the back of Ulianna's throat. Recognition floods in. Her arms drop. Even the fact that there was a gun at her forehead (not that a 45 would have gone through her skin) is forgotten as fast as it moves away from her.

<< Is that ... you, Winter Soldier? >> she asks in Russian. Forget English, she's barely got a handle on that right now. Her accent's thick as cured concrete.

And then quickly, arms folded, trying to regain dignity after being surprised, << -- You cannot beat impulse out of a shark, especially not when she is playing on shore leave. >>

Winter Soldier has posed:
The .45 has already disappeared again. The Winter Soldier isn't one for useless gestures, and now he's recognized her, he knows the unique properties of her skin.

<<Yes>>, he answers in kind, his Russian fluent and no doubt a welcome sound in these heathenish American lands. He doesn't seem judgmental about her dignity or lack thereof; he himself is matter-of-factly wringing out his hair, practical to the last. <<It's kinda hard to get rid of me. Things change, but the work does not.>>

Shaking back his hair, he considers the rest of his gear. Good thing it's mostly waterproofed. <<No,>> he says of her remark on the nature of a shark. <<I suppose you can't.>>

He cants his head, blue gaze slanting up at her. <<It's been a long time, Ulianna Sofiya.>> The question as to what she's been doing all this time is unspoken, but loud in his brief silence and the look in his eyes. <<New York is an odd place for shore leave.>>

Akula has posed:
She sighs heavily, joy leaving her face, as she turns around to simply sit on the shoreline. Her jean shorts and ragged t-shirt appear to be the only things she has with her, and they're presently waterlogged. Not that she apparently cares.

<< It's good that you're still alive. It's good that *something* remains, >> she begins, tone more serious now. << When the Union died, there was nothing left for me. They had ordered me to take the Duma, then suddenly changed their minds. Surrendered. Gave up on the dignity of the Soviet man. >> She is bitter about this, speaking as if it had only happened yesterday. << Then they told us we were going to be transferred to police. To -police-! >> She pounds her right fist onto the shore with a heavy *WHUD*.

Collecting herself as she stares out over the waves, << At least, the regular ones. Me? I had heard talk about the Red Room. I did not stay. The government I fought and bled for was dead. I walked into the White Sea and did not come back. >>

Winter Soldier has posed:
The Winter Soldier considers Akula's defeated posture a moment, before he comes lightly down the rocks and joins her in her seat on the shore. By habit he unholsters his P220 again, field stripping the weapon half to ensure it wasn't damaged from water, half just to give his hands something to do. The Soldier is not one for idle hands.

<<So long as there is a Russia, there is the Winter Soldier. There are still elements who play in the old way, even if the Union died in '91,>> he says, of the fact he is still alive. His tone turns wry. <<Besides, I like not being dead and take pains to ensure I stay that way.>>

He falls silent when she speaks of the Red Room. Something more personal flickers across his eyes, there and gone.

<<Is that where you have been these thirty years?>> he says, instead of speaking to that. <<The sea? Likely for the best. When an order is supplanted, its most loyal are the first casualties.>>

Akula has posed:
<<Yes. I simply lived wild under the ice of the Arctic Sea. No one goes there. No one followed me. No one would want to.>> She chuckles briefly. <<It was hell on my clothes, though. When I came ashore here I was naked as the day I was born.>>

She is less concerned with having something in her hands, expressing thought and emotion through the length of her tail, the tip flipping. <<What do you do now?>> she asks, looking over and down at him. <<Obviously if you have ammunition, weapons, clothing - you are doing something. Or someone is providing for you. Truth is, I don't know what to do with myself now. I've had a few days to enjoy myself, testing the Yankees ... but I have no future. Not really.>>

Winter Soldier has posed:
The Winter Soldier is briefly pensive at the thought of thirty years spent under the ice sheathing the Arctic Sea. <<I know something about that,>> he says, though he does not seem to find it so soothing as Akula might have. <<It seems an isolated kind of life, though I am certainly not one to speak.>>

Finishing his cleaning, he reassembles the gun and reholsters it. What does he do now?

<<The same thing I have always done,>> he says. <<Taking out the trash. The handlers are a little different, that is all. The Soviet Union might be dead, devushka, but that doesn't put an end to the need for my work. Nor yours. Even if governments reorganize, people stay the same. Other things stay the same.>> It is a vague sort of answer, but what else would one expect of this old ghost.

He glances towards her as she admits a loss of purpose, however, and there is some sympathy there for a Soviet killer displaced in a world without the Union. <<There is always a future for those like us,>> he says, <<so long as there are wars.>>

He rises to his feet. He is not a short man himself, but he still barely overtops her where she sits. <<Am I the first you have found here?>>

Akula has posed:
<<It's a hard thing to accept. I'm special forces ... the thought of fighting for anything but the army I was literally raised in feels like lying back and spreading my legs for some fat greasy capitalist banker.>> Yep. Still thoroughly communist. No reason for her not to be.

Looking over at him, almost eye to eye despite her sitting down, she continues, <<The first person or the first Soviet? I have already met several yankees. The one calling himself Juggernaut - now that was a fine battle.>> She grins widely recalling it. <<But I have already met at least one other old boot like the both of us. She is so old she probably dated Rasputin!>> That elicits another laugh. <<I have had a few fights, but I have kept their number beneath ten. I'm still trying to remember my English lessons from the seventies. That language breaks every rule it lays down.>>

Winter Soldier has posed:
He actually laughs when she remarks on spreading her legs for a fat greasy capitalist. <<No need for that, Ulianna,>> he says. <<I have made it well enough since '91, without consorting with capitalists and Americans.>>

He glances over at her. <<Yet you will have to adjust. The Spetsnaz you and I knew is dead. The Soviet Union is dead. I serve Russia now-- nominally. Frankly, less has changed than you would think-- though it is still not optimal.>> He exhales a long, nostalgic sound. <<I miss the Cold War. Killing up close, in person. Remote warfare, drones... no fun.>>

He folds his arms. <<It is difficult,>> he acknowledges. <<But this is the way of the world. Governments fall.>> His mouth twists, wry. <<I would know.>>

He hears out her talk of who she has met, the fights she has been in. Another old Soviet relic she has encountered. Old enough she probably dated Rasputin. <<I'd be concerned about anyone who went for a ride on that dick,>> he says, unrepentantly vulgar. <<Though to hear you tell, she'd probably have broken it off.>>

He sobers a little, after. <<If you truly want nothing more to do with Russia as she is now, then you must find another purpose. It is, at the least, an easier world in which to do that than it was thirty years ago.>>

Akula has posed:
She can agree with that thought process. <<I can't go back. I would be considered a deserter, worse yet, probably a traitor. There would be no forgiveness for me. Not with what I know. Not with what I am.>> A heavy sigh. <<I suppose my time of mourning is over. I will have to adjust, learn what changes have happened. Improve my skills.>>

She places her hands on her knees. <<If you are still here in this world, I have hope.>> She looks back over at him. <<I suppose I can say it now if it was not obvious, but I had always hoped to become as strong and devoted as you. The handlers sung your praises and encouraged me to follow in your footsteps. I did the best I could do, given the circumstances I was thrown in. Only [censored] moron decides to deploy a seaman in the middle of an Afghan desert.>>

Winter Soldier has posed:
The Winter Soldier says nothing to her statement she cannot go back because her disappearance would be looked upon unfavorably. His silence is as good as a tacit agreement that this is how it would be seen. However-- <<I would put a word in for you if you wished to return,>> he says. <<Though I do not think this is what you really want. Sometimes it is worse to try to reclaim what is lost, than to simply create something new. Nostalgia is well and good, but to marinate in it, that is for old women.>>

He laughs a little as she picks him out as a symbol of hope, however. <<The West would disagree,>> he says wryly, four simple words encompassing the blood he has shed. <<But I suppose my continued existence is a barometer of health 'behind the Iron Curtain,' as they used to say. It is my honor to inspire.>>

His expression turns thoughtful as she speaks of her own desire to live up to him, inspired by handlers who held him up as an example. This is not the first time he has heard such a thing-- Department X, the old USSR, they were not shy about propagandizing their first great success in creating a living weapon, even and especially among their own, but he does not react with any particular ego or haughtiness. <<You have done well for yourself, Ulianna Sofiya Saratov,>> he says instead, <<since I first saw you brought in. I do not see many children survive Department X, much less thrive and go on to serve so well.>>

He snorts. <<If a man then puts a shark in the desert, the fault is with him alone for being a fool.>>

He turns, to take his leave. <<I will be operating in this area for the foreseeable future,>> he says. <<If you should come to need help, leave a signal.>>

Akula has posed:
<<I will do so, then. I suppose then that shoreleave is over. I will have to begin preparing for missions once more.>>

There's nothing more than can be said, Winter having said it all. Ulianna - Akula - stands, salutes her fellow patriot, and returns to the sea.