Villia’s Journal

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*A small leather-bound notepad, not much different then the few others often found on her person, but this one appears much better condition with a band around it keeping it closed.*

I am unsure how to start this.. It was suggested after many of my most recent events of breakdowns that I find a outlet for my thoughts and emotions. Perhaps it shall help me to keep myself together through the many identities and changes I must endure for my work, it is easy to get lost in them. But, this goes against everything I have been trained. To carry around a so much intel, and not of clients, or those I am hired against, but myself.. While it is unnerving, I cannot help but feel a thrill of holding something so close that contains all my thoughts and fears, my identity.

So.. how to start this, do I talk about my day, who I am.. Yes, perhaps start there, get things out from the past, it is probably best. maybe I should of used a computer for this, ah well, less chance someone jacks it for parts.. Where was I, yes.. me.

Villia, taken from my past I had near forgotten, once known as Agent Villiana, only one of many names I seem to of accumulated in my time. When first I stumbled to this city, memories of the past repressed and seeking to hide, make something new of myself and just survive I had called myself Faye Woodsheart. There is still so much of my past I wish discuss.. But so too it is a danger to all and myself, even for but a simple journal, I am not sure I am ready to go back so far as that, so much destruction, death.. so much I still do not understand.

I was once a skilled agent of many a skill, I served loyally to those who made me.. But then it all went away. I found myself fleeing, from what I did not know, I came to the city under a alias I had used much before with story of seeking out employment to keep myself fed and sheltered, which was true. Silly me though, I trusted all too much and soon found myself prisoner to a local reigning gang the time. The Mad Pierrots. Upon going through all I had on me, they knew quickly I was no simple idiot dropped here for dead, I explained I could be of use to them, and was quickly put to do so. I excelled, amazingly. I surprised them and brought on much praise and honors. They made me a prospect and let me begin to earn my way into the favor of the gang through what I did best. I am a good listener, and with a silver tongue I talk my way out of many a situation. As much as some might think me weak, there is little that happens that I do not will so. My skills quickly became noticed, and many saught to have me their own. I found myself in basements and trunks of cars to speak with the leaders of factions about the city, all threatening to have me dead if I did not comply. Foolish men, so easily taken in by a whimpering woman promising them great things in exchange for her life. I had almost all the leaders at my call, to each the same was told. I was their true spy, to all others I lied and said the same, but really I was theirs and only they got all of my information. None knew that truly I sold all to the gang. I moved up to full member and was soon put to manage the clubhouse. Having clean record, it proved useful with the constant police harassment at our doors. I kept the place managed, the men fed and boozed up, patched them up after the regular occurrence of beatings and stabbings. I was well considered like a mother amongst the men. Soon I took up more management, organizing missions with the senior staff of the group. All trusted my word and listened when I spoke, I was one of the biggest assets.. But at the peak of it all, at the critical moment, I disappeared.. I still don't rightly remember what happened in those weeks I went missing, maybe it is for the best. Upon return Val had attempted to take the members then and defect into a new gang, some rebelled and attempted the same and began a war amongst themselves.. The cops turned the place over, as we had been abducting them for some time using them as pawns, forcing them to give us what we wanted. At the weakest time they tore the club house apart, made arrests, scattering what remained. Fearing my safety as many clamored to have me to their side, I could not go against those who had saved me. I fled. I miss those days and wish it had remained together..

I return now a new person, having spent time abroad far south tending to business elsewhere out of sight of many of those I had promised my employment, lost all the tails I had gathered. I was no longer the great informant and commander of men Faye, I was yet again a simple bottom feeder of information with but one or two employers remaining, only one with interest to rehiring me. I was Villia. Only but a few ghosts of the past remained, only thus far found one or two with memory of who I once was.. For the best in some cases I guess.

Perhaps I had not of drank so much at that party, my mind has worn itself out.. I guess this is a fine stopping point for now until I can regather my thoughts again. Maybe I may be able sleep decent for once without such thoughts cluttering my mind.

*Finishing the long writing, she sat back against the log upon the beach, her gaze falling out across the sands in thought of her past again.. Right over there, she had been held at weapon point and forced to swear to the celts.. and over there she had wrestled a fellow gang member in a drunken dare.. She felt her words were a mess, still so unorganized.. For a informant and agent she really was unorganized.. But it was out now at least.*

October 30, 2011 at 12:07 pm
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