Amelia Jones can only see her in two ways.
ONE: Draped in black silk, embroidered with archaic silver designs wrapping sensuously around her body, eyes streaked with the color of vengeance, honor, preternaturally skilled in the exotic arts of killing–always with poison or a delicate knife, for even a Dragon Lady must remain strictly feminine in the most archaic way
TWO: The automated voice behind armies, a brutal tech goddess, she has no body, only a voice and the surface of a porcelain face thinly veiling the mind crouched in its shadow, ready to spring and release her claws. She is never human, and the hushed words that speak of he