SA Alyssa Higurashi

Con/Crit, Plottings, and Coconuts all go here! The usual anonymous courtesy offered to posters.

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I can not wait to get these frakking stitches out. They itch.

This damn thing is starting to itch. Pain, I expected. Itching is bordering the line of frakking intolerable. Maybe I should just take the damn drugs and knock myself out.

On the plus side, Georgie was considerate enough to drop off the shit-ton of paperwork that I have to fill out due to a death on the field. "Be happy," he says. "It seems pretty cut-and-dry. At least there's no IA investigation."

No, no IA. Just 40 or so forms. In triplicate.

I guess there's a lovely lesson to be learned from all of this. You can't even escape paperwork if you're shot.

....Frak. Thanksgiving. Twelve messages about it.

The mission couldn't have lasted a week longer?

Oh hell.

I just finished filling out my discharge papers, thank frakking everything. I hate this place. Hospitals smell like -- stale air and disinfectant. The lighting sucks. The food sucks. And there are needles.

Not looking forward to the flight back home. Getting crammed onto one of those seats and feeling every bit of turbulance while sitting next to someone who takes up too much room and seems to think I need a frakking babysitter is not my idea of a good time.

Still haven't told my mom. Not looking forward to that either. Oh, hells, now typing is starting to hurt.

And FYI? Typing one-handed sucks.

[Posted via VERY SNEAKY TEXT]

Someone. Get him. The frak. Out of my hospital room. Before I finish what I interrupted.

( Phone Call to Karl Whedon )

[Private, written on a napkin and then shredded]
Feeling hungover without the booze sucks.

I thought I knew better than this.

Lock it down, Higurashi.

[Private, Written Then Burned]
He's in now. The background check held up. Thank God. Both covers would have been blown otherwise. Thug 2 is smirking at me too much now. Gotta be a way to use that. He comes back here, he goes to his own place - Grace needs her space, and she's not ready to commit to him yet. Matt wants her to quit, but... Little Miss Independent. Plus, now that he's working for the same outfit, they're getting good and stuck.

The boss likes that. I think this will work.

If I can keep it shut down and out. I've done this before, but never when the other person knew... never with a partner. And Karl...

Write it out.

I burn when he kisses me.

But he's not kissing me. And so I can't kiss him. Keep it divided. Play it smart.

But, God, I think I'm going to have to kill him after this.

[Private, written then deleted.]
Thug 2 likes blood. Likes it. He's unpredictable. If I don't find a way to use it, it could be a problem. Still haven't gotten a good read on Thug 3.

Taking them down is not my job. Get in, get the information, get out. But days like this make me want to. I'll have to find another way to get close. This place has seen enough 'accidents.'
[/Private]

[Encrypted message to Karl made of randomly circled letters on a Domino's Pizza menu]
Position secured. Standby. Next message 9/29.
[/Message]

[Private, written on a single sheet of paper and then burned]
Contact made. I sold it. Grace Kim. Walked into a door to get the bruise all nice and legit. No one would bruise this body. Not sure if they think I killed my former employer across state or if I just ran. I'll let them make up their own mind. At least they know I won't tolerate being hit.

Passed Audition. Thug 1 leads with his right. Thug 2 incapable of professional detachment. Can use that. Thug 3 impassive, stands by door, keeps his eyes moving. Target interested. Too much collateral to get close. Give it a day.

Need to arrange an 'accident.' Red seems to be his favorite - better to go after the dyed Purple? Something will open up.

The duffel search was thorough. Putting me up at a local Howard Johnson - 'credited to my account,' the bastards. Secure for now. Usual suspicions, no sign of paranoia - maybe Thug 3? Can turn that? Should do the drop test.
[/Private]

[Encrypted message to Karl, written on the back of a Kit-Kat wrapper and slipped into the drop-off point]
In position. Next contact 9-26-09.
[/message]

[Private]
Initial surveillance complete. Two infiltration possibilities - 'dancer' or mechanic. I don't have the hands for a mechanic. Fuck all. Why does it always come down to this?
[/Private]

[Encrypted message to Karl, written on the back of an M&Ms wrapper and slipped into the drop-off point]
Code C12. Initiate contact tomorrow. Standby for further information.
[/Message]

If it's not one thing, it's another.

Monday assignment in Texas. Almost finished packing. Flight leaves at five. Oh happy day.

[Private]
I'll be going undercover for the first time in months, and Karl will be my outside contact. It's never something I questioned before, but... it seems like I don't know him half as well as I thought I did. It's a cake assignment, but anything and everything could always go wrong. And it just takes one stupid mistake...

He's a professional, though, no matter what else. I'll just trust to that.

In New York. Family BBQ tomorrow.

Mischa, if you're still around - we should meet up. If I'm still alive.

It's always interesting to pop in on the boys in security and see just what those little hall cameras pick up. I might be paying them a visit later depending on what Karl has to say about this.

Also, I think something got into the coffee machines. This is almost drinkable.

So, the question is... purple or pink?

"Real Fact" #717

The mango is the most-consumed fruit in the world.

...great, now he's got me doing it.

A fine day for the air conditioning in my apartment to break, that's all I have to say.

Looks like the company that is bringing you flesh eating robots has given a press release -- and good news, folks! They're vegetarian robots.

Which is better, 'cause everyone knows vegetarians aren't crazy.

( Interoffice, highly coded, extremely confidential email to Karl )