Life of a Spy (OPEN, please join)
Feb 16, 2010 22:13:36 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Feb 16, 2010 22:13:36 GMT -5
Tristy Traverson.
Age: 26
Occupation: Spy
Tristy sighed as she pushed her dirty blonde hair out of her face. All day, she had been at work like crazy. Life as a spy was a lot more difficult than it seemed. Blending was the hardest part, especially when you had to pretend like you are starving. Tristy observed everyone she passed by. Green eyes. Black hair. About 5'7''. Looks 16 or so. Tristy went over it in her head. Brown hair. Grey eyes. About 5'8''. Looks to be about 22. She needed to know all of this. She needed practice. Then, she listened to the words that filled the air around her. "I'll see you at 7." "We should get going." "Did that actually happen? You're kidding." "Are you sure you don't have anything?" The words blended together. Today, no one seemed to be interesting. Nothing amazing was going on that Tristy could report. She had been working so hard, but nothing came out of it. Oh well.
Tristy was only a few blocks from her house near to the Seam. When she finally arrived, she entered the house normally, and closed the door behind her quickly. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the house. It was so cramped at small when someone looked at it. Tristy walked over near her bed, and took the rug that lay next to it and moved it slightly. Then, she loosened the floorboards and climbed down a ladder. She smiled once she was at the bottom. In front of her was her personal spy lab, but not only that, but there was also many rooms that created a sort of extra extension to the cramped old house upstairs.
Suddenly, Tristy heard a knock on the door from the upstairs. She groaned, not even thinking to answer it, but the knocking continued. She quickly went upstairs, put the floorboards back in place with the rug, so that it looked like nothing was there, and she trudged towards the door, turning the knob to open it.
Age: 26
Occupation: Spy
Tristy sighed as she pushed her dirty blonde hair out of her face. All day, she had been at work like crazy. Life as a spy was a lot more difficult than it seemed. Blending was the hardest part, especially when you had to pretend like you are starving. Tristy observed everyone she passed by. Green eyes. Black hair. About 5'7''. Looks 16 or so. Tristy went over it in her head. Brown hair. Grey eyes. About 5'8''. Looks to be about 22. She needed to know all of this. She needed practice. Then, she listened to the words that filled the air around her. "I'll see you at 7." "We should get going." "Did that actually happen? You're kidding." "Are you sure you don't have anything?" The words blended together. Today, no one seemed to be interesting. Nothing amazing was going on that Tristy could report. She had been working so hard, but nothing came out of it. Oh well.
Tristy was only a few blocks from her house near to the Seam. When she finally arrived, she entered the house normally, and closed the door behind her quickly. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the house. It was so cramped at small when someone looked at it. Tristy walked over near her bed, and took the rug that lay next to it and moved it slightly. Then, she loosened the floorboards and climbed down a ladder. She smiled once she was at the bottom. In front of her was her personal spy lab, but not only that, but there was also many rooms that created a sort of extra extension to the cramped old house upstairs.
Suddenly, Tristy heard a knock on the door from the upstairs. She groaned, not even thinking to answer it, but the knocking continued. She quickly went upstairs, put the floorboards back in place with the rug, so that it looked like nothing was there, and she trudged towards the door, turning the knob to open it.
