A day in the life of a hitwoman (Valkoinen, in the past)

((Set a month or two before Valkoinen's entry into the AFW. Also, forgive the blatant ripoff.))

Darkness. A dull throbbing pain. This numbness wasn't natural. She had been drugged.

"Wake up, shorty." A woman's voice... intent on harm, but not much else. Likely a henchwoman.

"Oh, for pity's sake. What are you, her mother? Hit her, dipshit." A slight Italian accent. Slightly older. In charge. Capable. Definitely the boss.

Valkoinen couldn't identify the source of the slap across her face, and nor could she hide her stirring from her slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing her to be in a dimly lit hotel room. Classier than the occupants, it seemed... except for the blonde woman at least. Tall, somewhat crazed, but definitely someone who knew what she was doing. She wore a flamboyant pink skirt, giving little protection to her cleavage and similar assets. White, thigh-high stockings ran up her legs, vanishing under her wide skirt, at least until she bent over. Valkoinen might recognize her as a professional hitwoman Carla Punchinello. In one hand, she lazily twirled a baseball bat. At her sides sat two henchwomen, patchy jeans, t-shirts... clearly low-rent muscle. None of them so armed as Carla. The chair Valkoinen was tied to prevent her from getting a look around the room but from the way the eyes were moving, there was at least one woman behind Valkoinen.

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"Awww, is the widdle baby awake?" Carla taunted, ruffling Valkoinen's hair, "We certainly must have you awake for this. I want to hear your barely intelligible warblings fade out to blood-soaked sputters and eventually pathetic whimpering tonight." She smiled, pacing back and forth, her voice having a sing-song tone to it, "In case that is a bit much to comprehend," she paused, turning to face Valkoinen with a scowl, "You're going to die, slowly."

Throwing her hair back, Carla chuckled, "Anyway, that was a hell of a job taking out your target. You even saw my little ambush coming... at least the FIRST three goons. Don't worry about the ones you killed, these girls don't hold a grudge. They get to split the dead ones' share." She chuckled softly.

Valkoinen grunted as she tested how tight her bonds were. Her head throbbed still and her vision was still a little blurry. She blinked a few times, looking around as best she could. She narrowed her eyes ad Carla and recited all that would be given as far as information, even though she hadn't even been tortured. "Simo comma Valkoinen. 1136397. Spetsnaz GRU." She then blinked again and recited something else in the same sort of dull tone. "Punchinello comma Carla. you are with the being freelance and are with the having both Italian and Amarican background." Valkoinen partially understood what she was going through. Though a pureblood Finn, she had been partially integrated into Russian society and was proud of both aspects of her "heritage" sporting an accent that was part Finnish and part Russian in tone. "This is with the seeming to burden you but you are having great success despite it." She then smirked a bit. "To be having the tactics like this, it is with the no wonder that you are having to be mercenary. I am not with the understanding why you would be getting the hiring. I am pleased to be informing you that assassin is with the meaning 'someone who is with the killing', not with the being someone who is with the mugging and tying to chairs."

Carla raised a wary eyebrow at Valkoinen's remarks, "Oh look, the little girl thinks she's clever," Carla nodded toward one of the henchwomen, "Show her what we do to clever people." With a nod, the henchwoman delivered a solid punch to Valkoinen's cheek.

She shook her head, smiling, "Well, that's quite a lot of Wikipedia you've got crammed in that tiny little head of yours." She reached in, knocking Valkoinen twice on the head to punctuate the point. "You've got one thing wrong though. You see, being an assassin is about more than killing. It's... building a relationship with your client and bridging the... client-target relationship. Any thug with a gun can kill, but if you are willing to pay the rate for a professional like myself... then you want your target to suffer." She twirled a lock of hair in one hand, bat in the other, mindlessly. "That's my job. To carry out the client's ill will toward the victim. It's no fun to just... kill someone... so... undignified." She pursed her lips in disgust.

Turning back to Valkoinen, she set her bat down, leaning over it as though it were a cane. "But all that's moot, dearie. This one's not on contract... You could call it... a loss leader. You see, being a hitwoman is difficult these days... what with the economy and all. There just... isn't that much room for folks like us. In fact... you, my dear, have definitely taken one too many contracts that should have gone to me."

She gave a high laugh, "Oh ho ho... and besides, you're a bit too young for this business anyway."

Valkoinen closed her eyes and took the hit and merely continued to look at her coldly. Valkoinen did not like this woman already. The Finn usually had no problem with almost anyone she met, but as she listened to the words of the assassin, she felt that she was having worse done to her than any of the punches. "You are pleased to be killing?" She questioned when the monologue was finished. "Then I am surely with the understanding of why you are merely mid..." She paused. "Low-level assassin."

"You are with the having correctness that anyone can kill. But maybe that is the only thing that you are having correctness with." She eyed Carla carefully. "It is with the taking unique individual to be with the enjoying making someone suffer." She spoke in her normal tone but it seemed that she was paying a compliment to Carla. There is with the being reason that I am sought out more than you." She glanced around the room, taking in the scene a bit more as she spoke.

"When one is with the having moment of passion, or they are with the letting go of themselves then they can be with the endulging sadistic desires. I am with the repeating one more time to try and get inside thick skull. Assassin is with the being one who kills. Killing, with the having the least amount of fuss and mess. Killing without having the knowledge of who is with the doing killing, or with the having skill to be making sure that when it is to be desired to be known that there is not with the having mistake. These are witht he being main jobs of assassin. I am pleased to be telling you why I am more perfect assassin than you. I am with the having no pleasure with killing. I am with the killing because I can. That is what it is to be having the meaning of skill. You are with the being fortunate to even have jobs that you get. Those are being with the ones I am having to turn down. I am not with the taking assassination that is with the being done for revenge. With the being done for pleasure. Pleased to be passing on jobs like that to more common sadists."

"Oh, ho, ho," Carla reared her head back laughing, "So, the little girl thinks to psycho-analyze me? How... quaint." She paced around the room, not specifically talking to Valkoinen but clearly not talking to anyone else, "What a perfectly typical response from a Spetznatz burnout, to boot. No life. No zeal. So... utterly antiseptic." She scoffed, "It's like that entire half of Europe hates life, is miserable all the time." Carla spun to face Valkoinen, setting the bat down and leaning on it, "Can you name one thing that you've done with your life other than end other people's? Can you think of even one mark you've made on the world other than with a bullet or a knife? Do you drink, write, read, create, contribute, or imbibe ANYTHING related to the world's works? Do you even know what art MEANS?!" The last question represented the end of a crescendo in Carla's intensity, leaving her quite close to the Finn's face. She took a deep breath, regaining a measure of grimly cheerful control, "You misjudge me, little one. I don't take pleasure in the pain I inflict, the lives I end. I simply find that if one must pay to deliver death, neither party is served by a life being snuffed out in an instant. The victim should see their death coming, should feel first hand what a vicious and oh, oh so final thing death is." She raised a finger and waved it at Valkoinen, "If I WANTED you to simply... die," she spat the term with disgust, "I could have shot you from my favorite hotel in Stuttgart while enjoying a lovely room service-delivered meal. But that's no way to kill someone." She chuckled, "You'll thank me for giving you this... personal touch. Hell, I'm practically doing you a favor. You're a scab, a parasite, a dog, just chugging forward because you know nothing else... waiting to die, with barely an idea of what life could be, even SHOULD be. Once you see it slipping away, you might just realize how good you had it."

She chuckled softly, standing back up. "No, no, I'm no mindless sadist. If you want to see a mindless sadist, allow me to introduce one to you." With a wicked grin, she grabbed the back of Valkoinen's chair, leaning it back on to one leg and swiftly kicking it to spin her around and face the bed. On it was a young, pale woman, a tangled mess of greasy black hair rolling down her face, her eyes wide and filled with disinterest and disregard for those around her. She sat cross-legged on the bed, obviously bored. She regarded both Valkoinen and Carla with a snarl but remained silent. "Valkoinen," Carla intoned playfully, "meet your executioner today. One Paola Tattaglia. Paola's single claim to fame other than a particularly grating brand of teenaged angst is that her uncle was well connected enough to not just get her off free for cutting her boyfriend to pieces with a butcher's knife for no particularly good reason, but to also pressure me into keeping her on a tight leash."

"Blow me." Paola offered in her defense.

"Oh, ha ha." Carla replied with no small amount of sarcasm, "Yeah. The most spoiled little princess I've ever known and you just get off on the whole 'I'm so screwed up. Give me attention.' Please. You're a walking cliche. If anything, you should be thanking me for not tossing your ass in the ocean. Tony's all but given up on you, anyway."

"Oh, I know full well who he's giving what to." Paola hissed.

Carla let out a few Italian words at Paola that needed no translation before turning to Valkoinen, "You see what I have to put up with. Still... I thought it a perfectly fitting end to your life, letting the unsteady hand of a half-baked, drug-addled, drama queen poseur."

"Screw you!"

"A DRAMA QUEEN POSEUR... be the one to wrap up the life of this big bad assassin. Fitting, no?"

Valkoinen listened to what Carla had to say. Regardless of whether or not she had no choice in the matter. When she was finally finished she remained stoic. "I am with the not being interested in these things." She paused. "And with the not telling you even if I was. This is with the being pretty elaborate set up for having art discussion." She then turned her head. "You are with the thinking I am having to understand the reason for living? I am thinking you are proving why you are second rate assassin because I am not already with the bing dead."

Valkoinen remained silent even as Carla spun her around to see the moppish woman. Her facial expression did not change and she didn't seem to care much about her. She would certainly end up the same once she got out of here. The fact that she wasn't dead meant she would not die, at least to the Finn. After the back and forth between the two Valkoinen eyed Paola, sizing her up. "I am with the wondering why big bad tough guy assassin is with the lacking peepee big balls to finish job herself.?" She said simply. "It is with the knowing that she is going to be with the being killed if she stays here, like crybaby brat."

"Oh, ho ho ho ho! Well, check the mouth on the so-called assassino." Carla chuckled, spinning Valkoinen's chair back around to face her. "I'd say 'Shhh, the adults are talking,' but it seems that I'M THE ONLY ADULT HERE." She sneered, "Seriously? 'Peepee big balls'? I hope for your sake this isn't your first language, shortcake."

Shaking her head, she turned away and paced about the room, "You see, little one, I'd love nothing more than to," without skipping a beat, she spun back around and swung her bat at considerable speed toward Valkoinen, pulling the blow to a dead stop an instant before connecting with Valkoinen's kneecaps, "shatter you, piece by piece, watching that wonderful realization that even if I did let you live, you'd never move by your own power ever again..." She pulled the bat back and smiled sweetly, "But, as you can tell from my apparel," She gestured to her dress, "I've got a funeral to attend. Some asshole from my mom's side of the family had the nerve to die right now and the asshole survivors planned the funeral without any concern for MY plans, naturally. Of course, since said dead asshole is one of the few filial deaths I've NOT caused, I'm somewhat honor-bound to go..." She paused, "Honor? Oh, sorry, I'm using words too big for the little Russkie, aren't I?"

"But, don't worry." She pointed to a small camera installed in the ceiling, "I'll be streaming the whole thing. Wouldn't dream of missing watching you snuffed out." She pulled out a small device whose screen displayed clearly the hotel room and showed it to Cardia. "Who knows? I might even upload this to that Tube site or whatever... Ooh, isn't technology grand?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Paola hissed.

Carla shrugged, "Hush, remember? Grown-up talkie time only. Don't speak unless spoken to. You're getting a freebie out of me for this anyway, so grin and bear it."

"Can I use it on you?"

"Groooownuuuuppppsss." Turning back to Valkoinen, she smiled, "Alrighty sweetie. Now's the point where you curse my name and say I'll never get away with this right before the fun begins. It's what they ALL do. The problem is I won't be here for it... but I'll be with you in spirit."

Valkoinen's head titlted downward a little at Carla's comment. It was pretty obvious to anyone who listened to her for longer than a second that language wasn't her forte and while she knew several of them, she was pretty terrible at speaking them all, including her native Finnish. The way she spoke wasn't anything she did on purpose and so even though she didn't show it, Carla had insulted her a little.

Valkoinen knew what honor was. Though she disregarded it often. She was cold and brutal and the only honor she had was in fullfilling a contract. "Honor is with the getting you killed in my line of work. Being with the finishing contract is wth the only kind of necessary honor." She turned her head. "But it is with the wasting of breath to be trying to explain this to common thug who is with the thinking she has big boy assassin britches."

Valkoinen stared at Carla as she was leaving. "You are with the mistaken me for being super good guy spy or hero or something." She said. "I will not be with the saying name. After I amwith the killing of your subordinates and you, I will not even be remembering your name.' She closed her eyes. "Actually I should be with the apologizing. I am with the not being able to think of it even now."