SpyChronicles: Alias

Am baffled by this concept. Was of the belief (foolish, I know) that spies are able to choose their own aliases and code names. Was v. much hoping for an alias like “Anastasia Beaverhousen” or at the v. least a code name like “Phoenix” or “Feather Duster”.

Perhaps am ignorant of how code names are actually acquired, but should like to think that self has at least penultimate knowledge of spywork (having been employed for v. nearly seven months inside super-secret operations center). Apparently, this is misconception, as no one has consulted me about alias. Am v. disgruntled about this.

Have somehow managed to emerge with alias of “Celeste”. The Boss (before his tragic demise) set this particular alias in motion, and was picked up by rest of spy staff (cheeky bastards). Was v. proud of having acquired an alias until realization hit… that it was not so much alias as mistaken identity. For week or two, was hurt by Boss’s apparent ignorance of my existence (and the continuous proof produced that my name was not, in fact, Celeste).

However, Boss is far more intelligent than shiny shoes and striped tie suggest. Boss understood the need for hasty assignment of alias, because Boss knew that soon, there would be… The Nemesis. And that self would be in great danger if Nemesis ever actually knew genuine information. Therefore, Boss stubbornly insisted on calling me Celeste. Brilliant man-- too bad about him, really. I owe him my life, as Nemesis seems to have picked up on my alias and uses it with wild abandon.

Have had great pleasure out of creating personality to greet The Nemesis with—has been excellent practice for forays outside department and into world of actual spywork (and not just typing spydocuments). I now present to you Celeste St. Just.

Celeste was born of a French father and a Russian mother, and is a well-traveled lass, having been to various parts of the earth that self is v. sure Nemesis has never even heard of (e.g. Staten Island and Ethiopia). While on her travels she secured the affections of a sensitive, scruffy philosophy professor named Raoul Laurent (affectionately referred to as "Laurie"), whose ring she bears on her left hand in the hope that someday they together can afford to bring him to the United States. (Ring was purchased at Target for twenty dollars, but at least is eye-catching CZ and actual sterling silver. Nemesis is not smart enough to ask why M. Laurent could afford giganimous engagement ring but not plane ticket.)

Celeste speaks v. fluent French and some Mandarin Chinese (but absolutely no Portuguese or anything of the kind, as have wish only to communicate in ONE language with Nemesis). She enjoys slacklining, extreme hiking, and needlepoint. Her blackberry jam has taken first prize for the last three years at the county fair. Unbeknownst to most, her original line of corduroy evening wear continues to wow audiences in Paris, Milan, and Tokyo (its popularity was drastically reduced in Afghanistan when it was discovered that it cannot, in fact, be worn appropriately with a burkha.)

This has made self feel v. secure, as has stopped Nemesis from discussing my various physical attributes in loud and oily tones. Hate Nemesis with a vicious passion; when Laurie comes to the States, he is so going to own him.