Author Games Compilation [Cycle 2]

Task 2 • Valor [NB]

AUTHOR GAMES: THE ABSENT EMPRESS - TASK TWO

Step. Stumble. Omit the fall.  

She hadn't been expecting the marble step leading to the exit to be so high, so when she flung a leg out, the sole of a shoe met air instead of the expected expanse of polished tile. With the duffel weighing down her shoulder, flesh and bone went careening, feet slipping, breath catching, floor ascending-

-arm caught, bruises set aside for another day.

Without thanking the woman, Nora straightened herself and wriggled free - don't touch me - of the stranger's strong grip. She would've kept on moving towards the front entrance of headquarters, too, if a voice hadn't stopped her, if a hand hadn't reached out with the threat of taking hold again. "Belasco, you really ought to stay."

Nora whirled, walking to her destination backwards to keep sure that nobody'd try to grab her up against her will - especially that woman, of all people. "I really ought to leave," she mimicked, "I'll be back tomorrow, but I'd rather get my own place."

The SpaghettiO woman - as Nora had decided to call her - shifted her weight to the other leg, sighing heavily through a crooked nose. "And how exactly are you going to accomplish that?"

Yes, that was a good question. But Nora, ever the optimistic pessimist, merely avoided a reply, tightening the strap of a bag containing everything she owned against her shoulder and giving a flamboyant shrug. She might've said more on top of that, but did she really need to?

Realizing she'd stopped moving, Nora moved to turn and continue on her way and, with an inkling of what she discerned as excitement (for, of all the cities she'd sought refuge in, not once had she stumbled upon reason to visit Los Angeles, a dry but glowing city at nightfall), heartily cold-shouldered her responsibility here.

"There's a perfectly fine room already made up for you upstairs. You've got no means to afford a place to stay, I'd barter. And on top of that, our facilities here are the safest you'll find in all of California. Are you certain you'd rather wander streets you don't know?"

Oh, damn it. The bitch made a plethora of valid points, and Nora absolutely despised her for it.

The backtrack was slow, chin cast down and dirty shoelaces scraping linoleum in defeat. When Nora finally took it upon herself to glance up, she looked directly into the raised expression of that dastardly oblivious woman. Then she exhaled exasperatedly. "Well," she said, "where's this room at, then?"

It was an extensive trip, getting to that room. They had to walk a distance to the elevators, first, and when the elevators engulfed them, the several story rise took an uncomfortable amount of time and dull music tracks. Then a flight of stairs, a brief explanation that the Empress herself - what a narcissistic name, too, to call oneself! - was fast asleep on the floor above, and a keycard unlocking the pristine white door punctuated the trip. Run-on, run-on, run-on. Her life was a run-on.

"And if you need anything, just ask for Merle," the auburn-haired woman said, nodding with her face in between the door and the frame despite Nora purposefully trying to close it on the woman's cheeks. "I'm leaving for tonight but I'll be back bright and early."

"Yes, thank you, I really appreciate it," Nora said. "Merle" finally retracted her skull, and the door clicked to a heavy and incredibly satisfying close.

Thank the heavenly creator.

Once Merle's footsteps had faded out down the hall, Nora took it upon herself to press her back against the door and investigate her nightly living quarters as they were. It wasn't much different from her old place, space-wise, and it was almost comical how the furniture was arranged in nearly the same way about the room. But this place was more pristine, more lit, and blaringly white. Walls, sheets, blinds.