Tough As Gold
By: K. A. Maxwell
Five in the morning.
The buzz of the alarm clock roused the occupant from her underwater waterbed.
Air bubbled up from her gills along the back of her neck before golden-colored eyes blinked and held open. With her scaly hands on the side of her bed, she pulled her body up and floated in the sea. Fists clenched, she rotated and struck a punching bag held by golden chains. She righted herself, arms up with her orange-golden, blue-tipped tail swinging side to side.
“One, two, three, four, five.” She sent each jab in quick succession, then, with a quick snap of her tail, moved to the next side of the bag and repeated her combo ten more times. She wore a seaweed sports bra that revealed her trim waist and muscular core. Once done, she swam around the bag, her tail propelling her with bursts of speed. She bobbed and weaved, then paused when her core and tail muscles burned. She steeled herself, charged, and slammed her shoulder into the bag.
Her wake-up routine left the young woman breathing heavily as she swam up towards the surface part of her townhome. As she approached a set of stairs, golden sparkles danced around and up her tail, transforming it into a pair of lean, finely scaled legs. Once she reached the surface, she approached another punching bag that hung from the main floor ceiling. She picked up a bottle of water, took a drink, and then repeated the routine, punching and kicking.
Ever since she decided to learn how to fight, Oriana Chandroni has done this routine every morning before breakfast. Up to a few days ago, she was on track to prove her toughness as a security officer. Her first day didn’t go as planned, however, after being kidnapped by veteran GVU security officers. She did get her hands on one of the criminals, but her years of training didn’t even come close against Lieutenant Felina Gatti’s fighting prowess.
When she emerged from the bathroom after taking a shower, she scowled at the punching bag and sent a roundhouse kick, wincing as the contact sent a buzz straight up her leg.
“It’s gonna be different this time,” she declared to herself. “One day, I’ll prove you all wrong.”
As Oriana entered her closet, she reached out to put on her GVU security recruit uniform—but then caught herself. Instead, she placed it in a plastic bag; she wouldn’t need it anymore. After everything that had happened, she couldn’t help herself and had jumped into that weird job battle royale thing without knowing what the prize was. She must have done something right, though, because she got a job interview and then the offer to become the new Junior Sales Executive at Macmor.
“Guess it’s back to high-maintenance mode,” she muttered as she hunted through her wardrobe.
Oriana slipped into an aqua-blue underdress with pumps to match, their cool hues reminiscent of the same tranquil waters in the sea. The underdress fabric clung to her form, accentuating her curves. Over this, she layered a sleeveless orange vest with a dark blue collar that added a burst of warmth and energy, contrasting beautifully with her pale-golden scale-skin and golden-orange hair with blue tips. The absence of sleeves revealed the toned muscles in her arms, a testament to her commitment to her training.
When it came to her sudden switch from security to sales, she wasn’t sure what to say of the move. The possibilities of working with superheroes and kicking ass while selling and making money, how could she not turn that down?
She tied her hair back and let its tail flow freely, then added a pair of earrings and some lipstick to complete the look.
Oriana walked into the kitchen, where she pulled out oats, milk, frozen berries, and protein powder and mixed it all within a blender cup.
A phone on the counter rang and vibrated. One glance at the caller ID made Oriana roll her eyes before answering it.
“Hi, Mom,” said Oriana.
“Ori-Ori, how have you been? Are you okay?”
“Mom, I’m doing fine, the same way I was yesterday, the day before, and the day before.”
“I know, but we were so worried after what happened. You’re not sad or lonely, are you? We can come over and keep you company.”
Oriana tried to smile at this. “No, I’m fine. I still have hundreds of text messages I have to read and reply to.”
“Your aunt, your nephews, your cousins, family you didn’t even know asked for you, my little golden fry.”
“Ugh, Mom,” groaned Oriana. “I’m a fucking twenty-six-year-old girl now. I can take care of myself.”
“Language,” Oriana’s mom scolded. “Ori-Ori, you used to never swear at your parents when you were younger.”
“I swear with love, Mom, always.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised you became this wild. Being in so many hotels gives you a lot of opportunities to meet all types.”
“Mom!”
Her mother chuckled. “Well, you’ll settle down soon enough. Your brothers are already married. Sooner or later, you’ll be an aunt with little ones swimming all around you. Your father is always seeking to mentor people to keep our business going. I’m sorry you couldn’t be part of that like your brothers.”
“Don’t be, really.”
“But you do get around, don’t you?”
Oriana snorted and took a long draw of her protein smoothie, giving her a much-needed pause. “I’ll let you know if something happens, okay?”
“Okay, but be careful. You used to love traveling with us so much. But you would always get yourself lost and—“
“Mom, I have a phone with a map and sonar, not to mention I have a place of my own with a mortgage.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” said Oriana’s mom. “We own some condos in Brahma as part of the family investment.”
“I know.”
“Valuable condos that grow in value year-by-year.”
“Give them to my brothers.”
“Don’t be silly. They already have enough. It will be there whenever you need it.”
Oriana shrugged and took another long drink. No point in arguing about family assets.
“Your father said hi,” continued Oriana’s mom. “He’s worried they are still making you do all that dangerous work, and that kidnapping kept him up late for the past week.”
“But I came out fine, didn’t I? Just a few scrapes.”
“Ori-Ori, you don’t have to take on dangerous jobs to prove yourself to us. You are always welcome, and your father would make you a vice-president. He would be so happy.”
Oriana growled. “I’ll think about it. Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, my Ori-Ori.”
She honestly didn’t know what her parents would put her in charge of. But at their first chance to get close, she knew her parents would stick to her like glue. Trying to feed her with silver spoons she never wanted nor needed. She finished her protein breakfast smoothie and picked up her shoulder bag, then struck the punching bag one more time—hard—on her way out.
Along the eastern river of Brahma City, the beach neighborhood of Tisfield Tides was a sought-after haven for young urban professionals. As the sun kissed the horizon, some of these fresh professionals jogged along the sandy shores in stylish workout suits, their footfalls mixed with the gentle lapping of the waves.
Oriana’s modern townhouse stood as a testament to contemporary design, seamlessly integrated with the natural beauty of its riverside location. With a striking blend of architectural prowess and aquatic harmony, the townhouse’s unique layout was perfect for her. The lower level was an extension of the river itself, as it submerged into the water.
As Oriana gave her home one last look, she hoped the mix of function and fashion spoke more of Oriana’s own style than her family’s.
An array of cars lined the curbs, their polished exteriors reflecting the sun’s rays. Some of these vehicles boasted flamboyant designs with too many bells and whistles for Oriana’s liking.
She passed by one car with an ugly lime color. The yellow pom-poms on the front and purple stripes on the side made Oriana shudder. It probably belonged to some kind of experimental artist who cooked the same way they designed.
Just a few paces ahead, a sleek silver sedan caught her attention, its streamlined contours and elegant finish contrasting sharply with the flamboyance of its lime-colored counterpart. Definitely a corporate creator-type.
Oriana herself never really considered getting a car, preferring to rough it, taking public transit and being around people.
She reached the bus stop where a group of people were waiting, some glued to their phones but others chatting amongst themselves. For them, it was the usual ritual of warming up before the daily grind. For Oriana, it was another major change in her routine that had happened in as many days.
“Rrrrrib, you’re dressed up today. What’s the occasion?” a yellow-skinned Mountain Oceanid asked. He was one of the regulars who took the bus to the subway around this time.
Oriana glanced at him and shrugged. “Nothing new. Just transferring to a different department.”
“You couldn’t handle doing security for one week?” asked a Drow, looking up from his phone.
“Nah, I wanted more of a challenge,” replied Oriana with a touch of defiance.
“Oh really?” The Drow’s eyes widened in surprise, bright green against dark skin.
“What?”
“Nothing. I didn’t think the challenge included you dressing in something like that.”
Oriana glared. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“I was only making objective observations. So, I assume you are working undercover today?”
Oriana pouted. She’d always wanted to work undercover.
The Oceanid’s tongue snapped out and into his bag of bugs, then back. “Ha ha. If she was, she probably wouldn’t tell you anyway.”
“Why is that?” asked the Drow.
“You specialize in deception, then try to get information from people. You then use that information against your opponents. Telling someone like you would be the last thing she should do.”
“I’m a lawyer, not a spy.” The Drow took a long sip of his coffee.
“I believe you, sure.” He took another lick of his breakfast and turned to Oriana. “But you, weren’t you in that whole kidnapping thing at Green Ventures last week?”
Oriana nodded. “Yeah.”
“And you’re already back to work?”
“I’m just a bit bummed I couldn’t beat one of the criminals on my own.” Oriana folded her arms and bowed her head slightly.
“Really? That sounds very senseless to me. You wouldn’t go far in law enforcement with an attitude like that,” said the Drow.
“I’m going to have my new boss help me with my hand-to-hand work,” said Oriana.
The Drow scoffed. “That’s not what I meant. Wait—your new boss is going to do what?”
“Help me with my hand-to-hand skills. I’m doing sales now, which will probably get me into more fights here and there, so my boss is gonna train me.”
“I never had training like that at my job,” said the Oceanid.
The Drow frowned and turned away. “Your insistent immaturity confounds me.”
“And you’re just an ass-kissing lawyer, jerk!” snapped Oriana.
The Drow snorted. “That dirty mouth will get you into trouble,” he said.
“What are you gonna do? Sue me for speaking the truth?”
The Oceanid’s cheeks puffed up as the bus pulled up, and he croaked. “This bus stop has never been livelier in the morning.”
Oriana sat on her own, put on a pair of earbuds, and listened to some music, blocking out the chatter around her, especially the Drow’s ‘objective observations.’ She lay back and watched the beach whiz by, energized for the new challenge ahead.
The transfer from the security department to Macmor was easy enough once she accepted Melinda’s offer. But it was different walking through the halls of the main building instead of security. Here, she was just like any other office civilian in corporate attire.
She made it down to Macmor’s office. It was about the size of a boardroom, with a few small desks on one side and a couple of larger ones on the other, some sprawled on the floor in different states of assembly—or disrepair. Oriana took a few steps backward and double-checked the room number. It matched, and beneath the number was a sticky note with “Macmor” written on it.
“Oi, you’re looking for Macmor?”
Oriana turned to face a tall, black-haired Arijog with hard, golden-yellow scales. They shifted into a skin-scale texture similar to Oriana’s. She held a large and clearly heavy crate.
“Yeah,” Oriana replied.
“Then you found it. What’s your name, lass?”
“Oriana Chandroni.”
The Arijog sneered. “Right, Goldy.” She went inside the room and put the crate down.
Oriana followed her. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? You’re working for Melinda, right? She called you Goldy.”
“I’m doing sales.”
“Makes sense.”
“Where is she?”
“She isn’t here today, so you got me, Vanessa.” She went back to one of the larger desks and glanced at her computer screen. Her long, thick tail slithered behind. “I’ve got stuff for you to do today.”
Oriana perked up. “Sweet, are we gonna fry some crime rings? Or protect a VIP client from buying contraband. Maybe go get that plant dude who kidnapped me to secure a business deal. I’m ready to handle whatever you throw at me.”
Vanessa looked up from her computer screen, eyebrows raised.
Another heavy thump brought Oriana’s attention behind her, where a familiar Antroid had set something down. She was short with a heavy build and a thick exoskeleton, especially broad along her shoulders and legs. She had short brown hair with black composite eyes, long antennae, and four arms.
“Vanessa, that’s the refrigerator you have there, right?” she asked.
“Aye. My assistant is a Nyxazon, so we’ll be two giant pits for all of your junk food,” replied Vanessa.
“I’m worried that if we add in all these extra things, we won’t be able to fit everything in here.” The Antroid made eye contact with Oriana and blinked. “Oh! It’s you. You made it.”
She had been in the job fight with Oriana that day.
“Hey, you’re Naida, right?” exclaimed Oriana.
“You two know each other?” asked Vanessa.
“Ms. Calanke held a competition for new jobs here,” said Naida. “We had to fight each other using things like staplers, pots, and pans. Wasn’t there someone who used a lawn mower?”
Oriana shrugged. “Anything goes. Someone used a deep fryer, but Commander Ebony disqualified them before they could throw hot oil on me.”
“That’s horrible. I’m glad she stopped them. Why would anyone want to use hot oil to fight someone?”
Oriana shrugged. “Beats me. The job market is tougher than ever, I guess.”
The Antroid offered her right hand. “I’m glad I found a familiar face in this chaos.”
Oriana smirked and shook her hand. “Same here. So you’re doing sales, too?”
Naida shook her head. “No, I got hired as the new office manager and manager for clients and accounting.”
Oriana’s mouth hung. Within a week, one of her colleagues already got a promotion?
“I’m working on building out our colony for when the team gets assembled,” said Naida.
“And that’s what you’re gonna be working on today: moving in,” said Vanessa.
“That’s it?” asked Oriana, frowning.
“And assembling and plugging in things,” added Naida. “The only way the Macmor colony can be at its best is if everything is organized and all of the support systems are in place.”
“But what about working on some contacts? Building sales prospects? Getting out in the field and knocking out people—I mean sales, knocking out sales.”
Vanessa stepped in front of Naida. “You don’t need to do any of that today. I want you helping us move in.”
“But—“
“But nothing.” Vanessa snorted. “Chloe and Melinda had something come up, and they put me in charge today.” She leaned in. “You’re helping us move in, or else.”
Oriana gritted her teeth. “Or else, what?”
Vanessa took two room-shaking steps into Oriana’s personal space and growled at her. It was at this point that Oriana took notice of Vanessa’s set of gills, webbed feet, and claws. She also noted the heavy crate Vanessa had carried in earlier. Oriana was up against a much bigger fish in the pond.
“Good morning, all of my Super Sales Warriors,” cheered a voice.
Everyone looked up towards the doors.
A very tall female elf in a blue suit with a white shirt stood in the doorway. She had blue eyes and long blonde hair tied in a ponytail.
“Hey, Hilda,” said Vanessa.
“Hello, Vanessa.” Hilda walked inside with a confident swagger, her brown pumps clacking.
Oriana had to crane her neck to look the elf in the eye. She remembered the face during the on-boarding presentation. Hilda Artemis, the chief brand officer in charge of all of Green Venture Unlimited’s brands.
“How is the big move coming along? Do you like the working space?” she asked.
“It’s too small,” said Vanessa.
“I agree, my Queen Artemis,” said Naida.
“Naida, just call her Hilda. And she’s not your queen.”
“Oh right, I mean Hilda. Sorry, Your Majesty. You’re very well regarded in the business world.” Naida cleared her throat. “I think the Macmor colony will get cramped within a month, and we will have to expand or migrate to a new one.”
Hilda nodded. “It’s the only space available for now. But it does work within my overall vision of Macmor: a group of Super Sales Warriors closely knit together so each person’s presence is felt. This way, there will be plenty of opportunities to build relationships and teamwork when facing even greater challenges and battles.”
