The Misadventures of "Sam" and "Cass"

Thyra put the dagger back in her pocket and walked out the gate. It was starting to grow chilly. Luckily, she had a shawl.

"Well, let's go," she said, mentally running through all the information about "Sam" that she had memorized. Of course, most civilians wouldn't notice if she said she had a dog at one moment and then said she had a cat the next (especially if they were drunk), but she was going to get this mission done right.

"God, I hate these shoes," she muttered.

Got Your Attention

Aedha grinned broadly. "S.A. Barnes gave an ultimatum." The Espionage Tactics class was Aedha's favorite, especially since the instructor was quirky and overall acceptable in Aedha's view. "He said if anyone was able to acquire the personal contacts of a regular high class citizen with all the requirements of a Standard Informational Profile without their suspicion, then he would give us 50 extra points worth of assignment grades. I thought a party would be a great place to give it a try."

Profile Pictures

"Oh. My. God." Aedha stared in horror at her communicator. "I look like my face was rolled in mud. Unbelievable. Do they not have money to get quality photos or something?" She scrolled down a little further until she came across Thyra's new picture. She snorted.
"Well you look completely washed out. Ghost-ified or something."

"Hey, check out our new profile pics. -A" She sent quickly to Thyra.

((I only had one ink pen on hand and it was quickly runnin out of fuel. Instead of being smart about it and choosing another medium, I decided to risk it and it died on me. I finished the rest of the portraits by dipping it in water and hoping to God it works out. It didn't.))

Guess What!

"Hey T,
So today in Military History and Tactics, I made this high security communications channel. Check it out!
Freaking Senior Agent Helms keeps on intercepting my messages to you
-A"

Aedha smirked down at her communicator, sending the message with a flourish before leaning back into her chair and glanced at the clock.
15:24. Twenty-six minutes forty-five seconds exactly until class was over. Oops. Make that forty seconds now. She yawned, twirling her stylus in her hand. This class just drones on and on. If Thyra doesn't freaking receive the message, she might as well die right here. A proper burial is better than this.