Author Games: The Absent Empress

Quarterfinals: Reason

Tim had a lot of amazing things about him, but if Amanda could attribute him one fault, it'd be that he honestly hates travel.

"No. No, no, no," he said, shaking his head and wagging his finger at her. "You got me to come down here, but another country? Good luck, Amanda, but hell if I'll step foot away. I gotta get home to my dog anyways. Love you, girl. Let me know how it goes."

It was a moment where Amanda just wanted to run after him and screech, but instead, she packed her bags and took the flight. Why? Perhaps it was a sense of duty. A want to get things done. Something inside her that just screamed 'you must' and she had to answer the call. Besides, the rest of the group was going, and there wasn't that many of them. If they messed up or ended up dead what would happen then? No, she couldn't just ignore it. It was easier to accept that things had to get done.

To accept that her phone didn't ring half as often, that she barely got emails, and that people weren't that reliant on her after all. The company was going just fine. They would be until she got back to get them into gear for overdrive season. There's nothing to do but to complete this. Then, I'll go. They lose people left and right--it shouldn't hurt the Empress, once we save her ass, to go and lose another. Besides, from her files, she has lots of potential candidates still.

The files were what led Reason to her travels--and to Tokyo, which, of all the places, was likely one of the most laughable trips she'd ever made. It's like I'm a walking cliche for all superhero movies--that's okay, because this Golden Whore is making the best of her time. It hurt, a little, to mention the name. Of course, going through the files had come with a surprise--one of her friends, the one who'd quit messaging, and one of her allies, one who'd died. The same. It stung in an unpredictable way, but Amanda didn't have time to grieve. After all, people died every day.

It hurt, but having over half the team killed off had hurt as well. Everything hurt. Especially her leg, with the bruise, the stabbing, the gunshots. Things healed but healing took time and time took having the world in order. Until, she'd be running with everything she had. Popping a few painkillers every now and then? It's nothing. I won't get addicted to them, I'll use them sparingly, and when I fight...this pain will drive me. I'll attack with everything I have. And when we get her back, I won't attack anything again. It'll go back to normal. Just like that.

She hadn't had time to tell anyone about her plans, but that would have to be okay. People quit jobs all the time, and when a company was going down, it was always better to jump ship than to drown with the rest of them. So why did she feel like saying something would be so bad? Amanda shook her head. No. Don't think about it. Stop thinking.

The apartment around her was plain and that's what she liked about it. Bare walls, bare bed, and a packed bag with everything she needed rolled up and tucked away. A black gun rested beside her lap and she played with it, letting the tips of her cracked nails scratch against the surface. Smooth, cold polish reflected her, the ceiling, and the pain that cracked through her skin with every sigh and bitter pursing of the lips. The world was waiting. She was waiting.

For what?

Azazel had promised--given his word, though Amanda doubted his word was worth much--that the Empress was captured and hidden somewhere in Japan. That she could be found by going there and searching, in the larger cities. Someplace where it'd be extremely hard to actually find her, but someplace the entire group was willing to go and search for. Japan, of all places. God. At least I can get some food and a sense of a different culture here. That'll be interesting. They've got lots to offer and yet here I am...on business.

It was the same old tired story. She wanted something new. Instead, she'd have to continue hashing it until things settled down.

They didn't have a name. Or not a real one. Every identity that Amanda had found for the person was fake. Yet, staring at their image, Amanda couldn't pull herself to find something real in that either. An average body, an average face. Pale skin, dark hair. Dark eyes and a brooding look that seemed to stare through her soul, as though Amanda herself were nothing but a facade of a person. Pretending herself to be a superhero.