ic Soviet Kitsch

[TheAbsurdist]

Disclaimer:  This thread contains violence, potentially suggestive themes, and language.  Discretion is advised.

 

2:30 AM.  May 1st, 2017

Red Rat's crappy apartment

 

It was small.  And sort of home.  Big enough for her, and not for the impromptu house guests, and she wasn't expecting them at all.  At the front of the door, came the strains of "Ostatnia Niedziela" with a voice muffled a bit, trying to sing along to Mieczysław Fogg.  There was another noise, low guttural, from deep within something large going in some sort of counterpoint to the failed sing-along by the other.  Fortunately her neighbors were not inclined to investigate, and closest apartment to hers was currently vacant.  Leaving just the 'music' drifting into the air, under a flickering florescent hall light, syncopated to the watlz's 3/4.

Edited June 17, 2017 by TheAbsurdist

[Supercape]

The Red Rat

 

It was early morning, and she had just finished a late shift at EZ Cabs. Easy Steve and told her she was on her final warning for the seventeenth time. He shouted at everyone. The Rat paid him little notice, she wanted the job, but she kind of knew that Easy Steve thought she was a good driver. 

 

AT this time though, she wanted to get a few hours sleep in. She didn't need many, thanks to mutations, but, damnit, she needed a few. 

 

She rubbed her eyes instinctively, although cybernetic eyes didn't need rubbing, and put on a dressing gown. 

 

What the hell is this?

 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, Chrissake what time do you call this..." she muttered, before swinging open the door...

 

 

[TheAbsurdist]

Her sofa, or rather, what might have been left of it was under the bulk of a eurasian brown bear.  That was the first thing that drew the eye.  At the noise of the door opening the beast shifted it's bulk, various outdated cybernetic compoents and the clear logo of atomic energy on the chest piece.  It's cybernetic left eye narrowed, the iris closing slowly as the sofa creaked, as did the floor.  There was a growl, deep and low, but not baring of fangs at the blonde woman the bear was currently dwarfing.

 

From the 'kitchen' came a robotic voice, coming heavy like the cogs of old Soviet Politiburo in Russian, as it stopped singing, along with the whirring of it's tank treads came into the room.  "<TROTSKY.  WHAT IS IT YOU SILLY CREATURE?>"  And then it stopped, and the glass and metal canister, illuminated with green interior lighting stopped, and swiveled a little, and she might feel eyes upon her.  Even if there were no visible ones on it.  "<GOOD.  YOU ARE HERE.  I AM MAKING SOME PIROGIS.  WOULD YOU CARE FOR SOME?>"

[Supercape]

The Red Rat

 

What? WHAT?

 

It took a moment to sink in. Meanwhile, SLAVE was working over time, giving HUD displays in Infrared, Ultravoilet, readings on height, width, and texture. It made the whole thing more, rather than less, shocking. 

 

She nearly dropped into a fighting stance. Nearly punched out. But this was a bear. A cybernetic bear. That didn't feel like a good fight. And besides, there was a friendly voice from the kitchen. 

 

A sort of voice, anyway. 

 

"Pirgois, yes, that would be delightful" she said, barging her way into the kitchen (or what passed for one), to see what was being prepared. She hoped it was Pirogis. Other than, say, a kitchen made nail bomb. You could never tell when dealing with eerie green jars and cyborg bears. 

 

"I am delighted you could stop by. Such a surprise! Would you mind letting me know who you are?"

[TheAbsurdist]

A small robotic three pronged, and blunt, claw extended out from a port at the side of the 'body' of the thing on tank treads. The green illuminated fluid bubbled furiously for a moment, and a sound like throwing electronics and glass into a woodchipper could be heard from it's digitizer.  The arm extended back into the kitchen, all skinning and innocuous, before it retrieved a plate, and brought it to her.  "AH YES, THE LANGUAGE OF THE IMPERIALIST PIGDOGS!  i AM FAMILIAR WITH IT AS WELL."  The voice sounding like someone had only just learned English, and also somehow be cheery and sarcastic at the same time.

 

"I WOULD APOLOGIZE FOR THE INTRUSION.  BUT PRESSING CONCERNS!  i AM DOCTOR VASILI SOKOLOV, THE GREATEST MIND EVER TO COME FROM RUSSIA.  POSSIBLY THE WORLD.  I AM HERE TO BE MAKING AMENDS FOR MY PREVIOUS ILL BEHAVIOR.  I NEED YOUR HELP.  IT WOULD SEEM THAT SOMEONE HAS MANAGED STEAL SOME OF MY OLD SCHEMATICS FOR A MINDCONTROL APPARATUS.  AS YOU CAN IMAGINE THAT WOULD BE DISASTROUS!"  The sound of feigned concern was strong, even if the voice was entirely artificial.

 

In response to such a proclamation the bear, made a grunt and slumped back to the bed with a thunderous settling of his form.

 

"MY COMPANION AND COMPATRIOT IS TROTSKY, THE ATOMIC POWERED BEAR!  HA!  THE WEST COULD NEVER IMAGINE SUCH BOUNDLESS POSSIBILITIES SUCH AN ADVANCED WOULD AFFORD US!... erm, THAT IS TO SAY HE IS THE NEEDED PHYSICAL ASPECT TO MY EFFORTS.  YES."

 

[Supercape]

The Red Rat

 

SLAVE indicated, via HUD feed in her cybernetic eyes, that Superior Soviet Science was clearly evident. Protect assets from Capitalistic Appropriation!

 

Usually she would have ignored it, but it was obvious that Doctor Sokolov was of a fine calibre, if he had created the bear and...and whatever that green glowing jar was. Superior Soviet Technology Indeed. 

 

She put some coffee on. 

 

"Best speak in English. Keeps up the cover" she replied, despairing of his accent and indeed the volume of his voice. Possibly if he spoke in Russian things would be better rather than worse. 

 

"Yes, yes, Mind Control would be a disaster" she groaned, contemplating all the ways the Soviet Empire had tried to, and sometimes succeeded in doing so. She recalled rumours of brainwashing, implanted chips, and the feared psychic they called the Sleeper. 

 

"And pleased to meet you, Trotsky" she saluted the bear, old habits swimming back. 

 

"Very subtle. Very effective" she commented, then patting the atomic bear. "But you may need to be a bit more discrete working in America, or more specifically, Bedlam"

 

She put her finger to her chin, poured some coffee, and had a moments contemplation. 

 

"How did you find out about me?" she asked. "I tried to burn everything of my past. I was pretty sure nobody would track me here..."

[TheAbsurdist]

The light inside the canister illuminated a bit more, and she could see the silhouette of a brain inside the fluid.  "ENGLISH IS SO.  LIMITED."

 

For his end, Trotsky grunted, and wrinkled his nose, sniffing loudly, and moved about, ruining her couch a bit more by shifting his massive bulk about on it.

 

"I CONCUR TROTSKY.  TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION, I AM FAMILIAR WITH THE PROJECT THAT SPAWNED YOU.  AMONG OTHERS.  SOME OF MY WORK IS PROBABLY INSIDE OF YOUR AMYGDALA.  THOUGH THE REST WAS SHODDY, VERY BAD, PROMOTION OF REGRESSIVE TRAITS IN SUBJECTS WAS NEVER GOOD, DESPITE WHAT THE BOOTLICKERS THOUGHT, BUT THEN.  APPEASE THE POLITICIANS." If it was possible for a synthetic voice to harrumph, then the Doctor was doing that right now.

[Supercape]

Red Rat

 

A cold shiver went down her spine as Sokolov's words. To date, SLAVE (or anyone else, for that matter) had not been directly able to hack into her mind, only the eyes that she saw through. But the possibility had always disturbed her. She hoped anything involved her amygdala was strictly sensory in nature. Frankly, she didn't dare look, and besides, organising a discrete MRI scan was easier said than done. 

 

Superior Soviet Technology Triumphs! Doctor Sokolov is hero of Communist State! Assist! Assist!

 

"Ah yes, appease the politicians. Or get shot. That was my recollection" she said, a trace of bitter sarcasm edging into her words. She wondered for a moment about secreting the kitchen knife up her sleeve, just in case the bear got a little frisky.

 

"And what about your marvellous creation, Doctor Sokolov? What's he doing?" she pointed to the atomic bear on her couch, directing his attention, and slipping a knife up her sleeve just in case. If he spotted, she hoped he would understand. She was a paranoid spy, after all. Part of the training. 

 

"Is he part of making amends?"

[TheAbsurdist]

There was whirring, as he slowly pivoted, and then aimed at the bear.  "HM.  WELL I GOT BETTER.  NOT EVERYONE DID. ISN'T THAT RIGHT?"  Another burbling inside of the tank as the Doctor regarded the bear.  "TROTSKY IS PROVIDING A VALUABLE EFFORT FOR ME.  THOUGH, PRESENTLY, HE IS RUINING YOUR FURNITURE."

 

The head of the massive beast lifted a bit, and then looking at the Doctor and Red Rat and then it made a growl, and grumbling a little bit, and it rose up, one great paw just breaking down the arm of her couch because he was pressing his weight down.

 

"PLEASE, PLEASE DO NOT TAUNT TROTSKY."

[Supercape]

Red Rat

 

"Don't taunt the bear. Good advice. From a political and wildlife perspective both" she agreed, hastily. She didn't want to be eating atomic laser vision as an early breakfast. 

 

"Its..ah...not radioactive is it? I don't react to well to radiation" she asked. She hadn't felt herself growing a vestigal tail, or coming out in pustules of purple ooze, but then again it affected her in a lot of ways, some subtle and insidious. 

 

"I mean, nobody does. But me, particularly. Darwin-X survivor, as you probably know. Tends to be helpful, the viral changes, but not around radiation. Tends to be pretty unhelpful" she explained. Although she suspected the strange scientist might knew that already. 

 

"In any case, you have me at a disadvantage, professor. I know your name, but not quite how you mean to make amends. And what exactly are you making amends for? I mean, Russia has a strange history, and many people did things they would rather not have done...."

[TheAbsurdist]

"THEN I RECOMMEND MOVING TO THE COUNTRYSIDE, AS MOST CONCRETE IS AT LEAST MILDLY RADIOACTIVE, NOT COUNTING THE GRANITE AND MARBLE THAT MOST ARCHITECTS LIKE.  SIMPLY I WOULD NOT RECOMMEND ATTEMPTING TO CUTTING HIM OP-"  There was a growl, and a huff, both impressive in their reverb, from the bear.  "I AM NOT TELLING HER TO, TROTSKY.  THAT WAS THE POINT."

 

Another digitized sigh, "ONE DOES NOT BECOME THE PREMIER MIND IN THE WORLD WITHOUT BREAKING A FEW... EGGS.  LAWS OF NATURE.  THAT IS SUFFICIENT, YES.  SOMEONE BUILT MY MIND CONTROL HELMET.  I DON'T WANT YOU TO RECOVER IT, I WANT YOU TO DESTROY IT.  MYSELF AND TROTSKY ARE NOT EQUIPPED TO RECOVER SUCH READILY.  YOU, HOWEVER, NOKA."  With that, he wheeled over to her, as if that would help convey the severity of the thing he was speaking about.  "YOU ARE ADAPTABLE, AND... ABLE TO DO SUCH."

[Supercape]

Red Rat

 

Sure...concrete....a bit like your personality, huh? If not concrete then at least somewhat pedantic. Perhaps such a mindset was compulsory for a super-genius level inventor. 

 

Destroying a mind control helmet. Well, that sounded wise. Especially superior soviet technology mind control helmet. She relaxed. A bit. Spies don't ever completely relax. In case they get relaxed, permanently. 

 

"Consider it destroyed, then" she said, firmly. She sat down, crossed her legs, and supper her coffee. Not too near Trotsky. 

 

"Give me the last pieces of the puzzle, then. Who stole and built the helmet of brain bending, and how do we find him. Or her?"

[TheAbsurdist]

"AH... YES... THAT IS WHY I NEED YOU."  The mechanical arms, spindly, spidery as they were waved a bit, theatrically, the manipulating claws opening and closing as this happened.  "MUCH LIKE A FIRE... THINGS WERE LOST AFTER THE COLLAPSE.  I WAS ABLE TO TAG SOME DATAPOINTS, AND I FOUND WHERE THEY WERE ACCESSED... BUT... I CAN GIVE YOU A PHYSICAL ADDRESS.  AFTER THAT... WELL, PHYSICAL INVESTIGATION IS... LIMITED WHEN YOU ARE A NEUROLOGICAL SYSTEM IN A CONTAINER AND HAVE AN ATOMIC POWERED BEAR... VALET."

In response to this, Trotsky's head snapped up, and he shot a murderous glare at the brain in the jar and lifted a paw that looked to be as big as Noemi's torso.  

[Supercape]

Red Rat

 

"I can see your marvellous inventions, whilst truly marvellous..."

 

Witness the Marvels of Superior Soviet Science! piped in SLAVE via her eyes' HUD. 

 

"...are not built for the subtleties of spycraft" she commented. Although she imagined an atomic powered bear could do an awesome job of ripping someones head off and frying there in insides with gamma-radiation vision. 

 

"I'll be happy to help. I don't want Superior Soviet Technology running loose. Especially in Bedlam!" she said, actually keen to crush this potential horror. 

 

She picked up her snub-nosed Superior Soviet Technology pistols, loaded with Superior Soviet Technology Ammunition, as SLAVE dutifully informed her. 

 

"Do you have a radio comm system in the jar? Ill stay in contact if you do"

[TheAbsurdist]

"YES, YES I DO." An arm withdrew back into the canister, and then returned with a small object in it's grasp.  "I CAN IMAGINE THE PROPAGANDA FUELED MESSAGES IT IS GIVING, THAT WAS NOT MY DESIGN. TAKE THE EARPIECE PLEASE."

The bear slowly lowered his, paw and huffed loudly regarding whatever the theatrics of the Doctor was. It was a long suffering sound, before he just flopped down, with a gust of displace air and a fwump at the impact.

 

"THE ADDRESS IS 745 MILWAUKEE AVENUE, APARTMENT 22.  OF COURSE IT WILL NOT BE THAT SIMPLE."

[Supercape]

Red Rat

 

Noemi took the earpiece and fondled it around her palm for the moment. "Yes. It certainly does its job keeping me away from decadent Capitalistic Propoganda" she said, sour at the reality. 

 

"Do I need this? The thing in my head is useful, sometimes. Including short wave encrypted radio transmission and reception. Of course, blah blah blah Superior Soviet Science blah blah blah it my edit something it deems unsuitable or against glorious revolution" she explained. 

 

"On the other hand, this ear piece would be clean. But somebody can spot an earpiece" she said, reflexive paranoia coming to the fore again. 

 

She took the address for Trostky, thinking about how the bear could break every bone in her hand. 

 

"Getting to the address looks easy enough, I could probably walk it. And its a lovely night for a walk" she said, looking at the black night sky. "But something tells me you meant something else. Care to give me the mission intelligence?"

[TheAbsurdist]

"I DID NOT DESIGN THAT CAPABILITY IN YOUR HEAD, SO I DO NOT TRUST IT.  ALSO MINE GIVES ME AND TROTSKY YOUR GEO-LOCATION, IN CASE SOMETHING GOES WRONG HE CAN... ASSIST AND... HAVE A... CONVERSATION WITH ANYONE WHO MIGHT BE... DISAGREEABLE."

 

The Doctor pulled his hands in close to the body, almost like he was ringing them in the way an old Russian peasant woman might. "I'VE DEALT WITH YOUR TYPE BEFORE, THE EARPIECE YOU CAN DESTROY AND NOT HAVE ME HAVE ACCESS TO YOUR BRAIN.  TRUST, YES?"

 

Another sigh as he wheeled towards the window and 'looked' out of it.  Really a lot of the adjectives of behavior were hard to apply in a situation like this.  "I DO NOT KNOW MUCH, HENCE WHY I FOUND YOU.  YOU ARE DISCRETE, AND EVALUATION OF YOUR HISTORY INDICATES A SUCCESS RATE OF 83% GIVEN THE NUMEROUS UNKNOWN FACTORS.  THE PERSON RESPONSIBLE WAS ABLE TO GET ACCESS AND MASK DETAILS ABOUT THEM-SELF.  IDEALLY, IT IS A HACKER WITH LIMITED OTHER SKILLS.  UN-IDEALLY, ROGUE ASSET, ENHANCED CRIMINAL, CULT LEADER, POLITICIAN, et cetera, et cetera."

[Supercape]

Red Rat

 

Alert! Subject expressing subversive ideas! Paranoid distrust of Superior Soviet Technology!

 

"I understand" replied the Rat, putting the ear-piece in her ear. It was a double edged sword, or course. It mean back up, of a sort. It also meant that the Doctor and his Atomic Bear knew where she was. Which might be less than ideal if they were less than ideal too. 

 

"Trust. The beginning of a beautiful friendship" she agreed. Right now, if he was flesh and blood, she might turn on the Superior Soviet Seductive Spy modus operandi. She imagined this would be a dead end with a brain in a jar. 

 

"I like 83%. Not bad. Of course, I would like 84% better. And 100% even more so" she said. 

 

"Still, I need to start somewhere. If there is a computer trial, I imagine the thing in my head can track it..."

 

Of course! Superior Soviet Technology is far Superior to decadent Inferior Capitalistic Imitations...

 

"But if you have anything to go on...?"

[TheAbsurdist]

"IT IS RENTED BY MORTIMER SNELLING.  HIS ELECTRONIC EXISTENCE IS HARDLY NOTEWORTHY.  THIS IS ASSUMING THAT IT IS NOT A LIE.  I AM NOT A CHOPPER.  AND THIS ENDEAVOR SEEMS INCONGRUOUS TO THAT."  The malapropism was said with such confidence in that robotic voice.

 

His arms move almost like he was crossing, or bringing hands together to steeple the claws.  "I DOUBT IT.  AEGIS, AND OTHER ORGANIZATIONS, DO NOT SHARE A FAVORABLE VIEW OF ME."  There was a chuckle, before wheeling to the kitchen carrying a tray of pierogis to the bear, who made an impressively dainty display of eating the proffered food.

[Supercape]

Red Rat

 

Mortimer Snelling....

 

"Well I try to keep out of AEGIS way. Completely out of their way" she explained. "I doubt they have a favourable view of my either, what with thirty years of espionaige against America to my name. So we have that in common" she said, trying to broker trust. 

 

With an atomic bear and a brain in a jar. 

 

Then again, not much shocked her. 

 

"Well, time to go investigate. I'd rather do it by night - not too many people...." she explained, picking out her Red Rat costume. Grey skin tight clothes and her signature short Red Jacket, complete with Motif on the back. SHe undid her hair bun, letting her chopped blonde hair fall to her neck. The look was complete. 

 

And plenty of side streets to creep down, in the semi light of Bedlam...

 

[TheAbsurdist]

2:54 AM

745 Milwaukee Ave

 

It was a little nicer than her place, but that was a low bar, and saying it was mid-range for being in Bedlam proper was not precisely the most endearing thing one could say.  It meant there were only an average of .32 muggings a day in this neighborhood, instead of 2.07 that might nominally expected.  Still it was a stone walk up.  And Snelling's place was on the second story, facing the street, so it would be hard to shimmy down a fire escape without notice... Possibly.  People in Bedlam had minimal reason to look up.

 

From the street most of the apartments were dark.  Except for one up, and kitty corner to Snelling's.

 

The street light before the place was flickering, like the ghost in the sodium lamp was struggling to care any longer about that which it illuminated.

[Supercape]

Red Rat

 

The Rat paused, studying the building. No rush. Hours till dawn. 

 

She wished she had brought some coffee. 

 

For the moment, she stuck to the shadows. Plenty of them. Just the annoying neon flicker of that damn lamp. She brought uyp her hand, took aim, and fired her mime finger at the vexatious thing. 

 

She was actually half tempted to shoot it out. But it would draw attention. So for now, in the shadows, her face intermittently half lit. She felt and looked like a cheap horror film stalker. 

 

But one thing she did have that most axe wielding psychopaths did not was state of the art cybernetic eyes. And before doing anything else, she calmly waited a moment, a minute...scanning the building with X-Ray vision...

[TheAbsurdist]

Her meticulous scan empowered by the superior Soviet technology laid bare the apartment building.  Except for three of them, which.. were a bit fuzzy, probably due to lead paint.  But there was nothing of note, except for catching a couple in the apartment above in flagrante delicto.  At least, she would be familiar with that particular motion two people had and it was clear that...

 

Superior soviet technology.  Clearly those two were breeding more capitalists!  What a load of Bolshevik.

 

She could make out a desktop computer, nothing special seeming in Snelling's apartment, not really seeing anyone, but then, that didn't mean much, one would imagine that you wouldn't try to build a mind control device in your apartment, right?  This would be outside of hers or Slave's experiences, or database.

[Supercape]

The Red Rat

 

Yes yes, breeding more Capitalists. Terrible thing, that. 

 

Nothing much to report for an evening in Bedlam then. The lead paint might be a cunning counter-subterfuge measure. It was probably just cheap paint that bordered on a health and safety hazard. Not that Bedlam paid a lot of attention to health and safety. Other than, arguably, trying to minimise both. 

 

The key was the computer. SLAVE could, hopefully, hack into it, but she needed to be nearby. Not right next to it, but nearby. 

 

She approached the front door, lock picks at the ready...hopefully it would not be a good lock. Hopefully she could pick it. Hopefully nobody would see her. A lot of hope, for Bedlam. 

 

 

[TheAbsurdist]

She was relying on pure, 100% luck.  Superior Soviet luck.  Maybe a YouTube tutorial as well, but it would eventually succumb to her Superior Soviet persistence. 

 

Success was never in doubt!

 

Except a little, perhaps.  The door opened, and it was like every foyer she'd ever seen for a place like this, leading to the hallway, with a stairwell immediately at the entrance as well.  The floor was black and white tiles, old and worn linoleum.  It was dimly lit with old, cheap lights, some of which were out, but she could pick her way through it, and she knew her destination, up the stairs, and down the hall a little ways.