Post by cecily on Jul 17, 2013 21:28:32 GMT -8
To the employees of AEgir Communications,
my dearest friends,
I’d imagine at some point during my time with the company you might have sense something “off” about me. I’m sure you’d deny it, because you’re all so lovely, but I am very aware that on occasion my professional idiosyncrasies can come across… oddly. I bring this up, because these retained habits are all I have to evidence an earlier time.
Last week I went to The Nursery. I know I probably shouldn’t have, but there was a lot of talk. I was curious. Since, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the heavy surveillance, the imprisonment, the butterflies on the wall… What’s more, I could not wrap my head around why this place, as gruesome as it was, was the only place in all this time that’s really shaken me to the core. (Yes, I –was- once a field agent.)
Admittedly, my decision to resign from AEgir came when this realization finally did: The Nursery shook me so horribly because it reminded me of the Illuminati program MK Ultra. It wasn’t a subtle reminder. It was visceral, stomach churning. Personal.
I’d like to be as forthcoming about my past in my resignation from AEgir as I was in my application. For a large chunk of my adult life I was a mind-controlled patsy for the Illuminati. But like I said, that’s past, and I (thank Gaia) don’t remember what my programming was like.
Despite this, The Nursery, although Orochi affiliated, reminded me of the atrocities of MK Ultra and how lucky I am to be a survivor of it rather than a victim.
In this light, I simply cannot continue to work for AEgir with the sponsors that it has. Instead, I plan on spending more time with Franc, as I never was with him as much as I’d like during my employment. I hope you understand.
But I do have some loose ends to tie up.
Tess: I’m not the mole. I know things don’t look good for me, but you have to believe me. I’m not. During my time at AEgir I was one-hundred percent dedicated to making us look –good-, not exposing our secrets. I love you all, and I wouldn’t do something like that to the company.
Shay and Ammie: I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be around to plan the wedding. I’m sure it will be beautiful, and I wish the both of you the best of luck. And thanks again, Shay. You really did save my life with this job. Ammie: You saved Franc’s life, in the literal sense, and I can’t thank you enough for that.
Mal: As an employee I couldn’t say this, but as a friend I can. I don’t believe Peter. He’d be too good in politics.
And lastly, Beryl. I’m so, so sorry. I have to admit, from the very beginning I suspected you for the car bomb, and in truth, nearly every other AEgir hiccup after that.
But it wasn’t you. We know that now, and the proof is definitive.
Lanare Nicolaides, better known as Page, or the women in the purple trenchcoat that gives tarot readings, was a tenant of Franc’s. It may come as a surprise that Franc in fact owns many high-end apartments in the Ealdwick area near Temple Court.
Page’s residence there was not by choice. She comes from a family with old money and a tradition of practicing magic- all Templars except for the occasional rogue. As Page, you could say, never got the “bug” for magic, her family purchased her a comfortable apartment near the Templar headquarters so they could keep tabs on her. As it is a dangerous world for a non-magic practicing mortal, she was forbidden to leave.
It was always apparent Page was bitter about her lack of freedom, but she seemed to cope, and she got along fairly well with Franc, despite the fact the fires at the apartments never managed to set hers ablaze.
All in all, none of us suspected Page. Until we found these.
The following is a compilation of the emails and postcards found in Page’s abandoned apartment, in logical order:
my dearest friends,
I’d imagine at some point during my time with the company you might have sense something “off” about me. I’m sure you’d deny it, because you’re all so lovely, but I am very aware that on occasion my professional idiosyncrasies can come across… oddly. I bring this up, because these retained habits are all I have to evidence an earlier time.
Last week I went to The Nursery. I know I probably shouldn’t have, but there was a lot of talk. I was curious. Since, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the heavy surveillance, the imprisonment, the butterflies on the wall… What’s more, I could not wrap my head around why this place, as gruesome as it was, was the only place in all this time that’s really shaken me to the core. (Yes, I –was- once a field agent.)
Admittedly, my decision to resign from AEgir came when this realization finally did: The Nursery shook me so horribly because it reminded me of the Illuminati program MK Ultra. It wasn’t a subtle reminder. It was visceral, stomach churning. Personal.
I’d like to be as forthcoming about my past in my resignation from AEgir as I was in my application. For a large chunk of my adult life I was a mind-controlled patsy for the Illuminati. But like I said, that’s past, and I (thank Gaia) don’t remember what my programming was like.
Despite this, The Nursery, although Orochi affiliated, reminded me of the atrocities of MK Ultra and how lucky I am to be a survivor of it rather than a victim.
In this light, I simply cannot continue to work for AEgir with the sponsors that it has. Instead, I plan on spending more time with Franc, as I never was with him as much as I’d like during my employment. I hope you understand.
But I do have some loose ends to tie up.
Tess: I’m not the mole. I know things don’t look good for me, but you have to believe me. I’m not. During my time at AEgir I was one-hundred percent dedicated to making us look –good-, not exposing our secrets. I love you all, and I wouldn’t do something like that to the company.
Shay and Ammie: I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be around to plan the wedding. I’m sure it will be beautiful, and I wish the both of you the best of luck. And thanks again, Shay. You really did save my life with this job. Ammie: You saved Franc’s life, in the literal sense, and I can’t thank you enough for that.
Mal: As an employee I couldn’t say this, but as a friend I can. I don’t believe Peter. He’d be too good in politics.
And lastly, Beryl. I’m so, so sorry. I have to admit, from the very beginning I suspected you for the car bomb, and in truth, nearly every other AEgir hiccup after that.
But it wasn’t you. We know that now, and the proof is definitive.
Lanare Nicolaides, better known as Page, or the women in the purple trenchcoat that gives tarot readings, was a tenant of Franc’s. It may come as a surprise that Franc in fact owns many high-end apartments in the Ealdwick area near Temple Court.
Page’s residence there was not by choice. She comes from a family with old money and a tradition of practicing magic- all Templars except for the occasional rogue. As Page, you could say, never got the “bug” for magic, her family purchased her a comfortable apartment near the Templar headquarters so they could keep tabs on her. As it is a dangerous world for a non-magic practicing mortal, she was forbidden to leave.
It was always apparent Page was bitter about her lack of freedom, but she seemed to cope, and she got along fairly well with Franc, despite the fact the fires at the apartments never managed to set hers ablaze.
All in all, none of us suspected Page. Until we found these.
The following is a compilation of the emails and postcards found in Page’s abandoned apartment, in logical order:
Weighs the same as a duck.
))
Best of luck wherever you are going and end up! I hope we'll still see you around! ))
