Identities

1: New Month, New Name

She eyes the velvet blue dress like it stares back at her. Just begging to be worn. The I.D that sits below it informs her of her new name, Kassandra. Eh, I've had that name before. Her bright eyes chase what caught them in the corner of her room. An all black fit, with a stylish leather jacket. Purple streaks zoom through the inner arms, pass the armpits, and end just before the zipper pockets. Two purple flowers sit just at the clavicles, resembling one of the thorny ones she wanted to tattoo on her outer thigh.
She walks past all of the other outfits and identities, this one. She rubs her hand across the flowers on the jacket. They feel almost like braille; she remembers when she had to act blind. It wasn't pleasant, but it had to be done.
Underneath the dark fit, on the brown cushioned chair was the identity.
"Hi," she practices a Brooklyn-style accent, "my name is Davina".

Davina Abigail watches as her hair goes from blonde to a metallic black. Taking the protectors off once her hair finally dries. One green eye and one blue eye lose their original color. Both becoming hazel when the contacts meet her irises.
Her right green eye, and her left blue eye are the only things that connect her to her former self. Whoever that former self of her's was, before she became this killing machine she sees in the tall mirror. The familiarity of these different colored eyes disappear, and she goes from Alexandra Blake, to Davina Abigail.
A new month, a new name, the thought resonates a few moments longer before she puts on the dark skinny jeans. This look makes far more sense than any of those other ones anyway.
A knock alerts her eyes in its direction.
"Coming!" She spits out. Opening the door before her handler.
"Smart choice," he walks past her like he owns the place, "I'm assuming this means you read the brief this time?"
She scans the apartment for this object, seeing it on her dresser and then quickly back at Stephan, "yeah mostly." she mumbles.
One eyebrow raises at her. He doesn't say a thing, as if waiting for her to say something else. So she finally does, "what? I've been busy".
"With what? Reading self help books and throwing up in your trash?" He lifts up one of the books as if it has a disease, and then drops it back onto the pillow. "Real busy huh?" he smirks with both his brows standing now.
She feels his zealous game bounce off her, with the bounce of her book from the pillow. "Fine, I was procrastinating, but that book really does help." she tries to inform him.
"Yeah I bet. Now would you read the rest of it already, before I"
"the rest of the book?" she interrupts.
"What? No! The rest of the briefing you loon!" they both can't help but giggle.
"Oh come on. I'm too bored to read. Will you just brief me instead?" she makes sure to show him the puppy-dog face.
Sighing, he starts.