your _______'s a bright one

Zane pulled his hood up as he weaved between crowds. Maybe it seemed risky, heading to the busiest part of town to lay low and get an idea of the place, but he knew how to duck out of trouble if need be. And maybe he wasn’t in love with the idea of sitting on his ass while having no clue how much Orie changed since his last visit.

Plus…

He missed this place.

Being as large as it was, Orie demanded a lot of attention from Vitam’s Guardians. Even with all his fingers and toes Zane failed to count all the times he’d been rushed off to solve some issue or other. Mostly organized crime incidents and the like. The other Guardians had their strengths, while Zane contented himself with punching shitty guys. If anything, though, it gave him decent points with the locals.

Probably made himself some enemies along the way, too.

Whatever—if some boss recognized him, he’d handle it right here, right now.

Even if he had to—

“Hey!”

Zane froze by the massive fountain. The sculpture, cleaned and refined since the last time he’d been in Orie, depicted two mythological creatures: mermaids and sirens, said to guide and doom those who traveled the seas alike. But even being fictional, each sailer knew clear as day that the ocean carried beautiful wonders and horrible misfortune.

Sometimes, Zane struggled to tell which was which at first glance. When a woman grabbed him out of nowhere, he raised a fist—then stopped. Familiar black curls pooled over her shoulders and touched Zane’s nose. She gasped and backed away before he had to make her, clasping her hands together and bowing.

“Sorry! Sorry! Oh, geez, don’t even know your name and here I am, all shouting in your face and stuff. But you look like you know a thing or two about confidence, right?”

“I—”

“Like you totally have this self-importance to you I really like. I hope you know I noticed you and your friends sneaking past security with those bug guys, even if no one else did. You’re not from around here, right? Are you with a crime family? Wait, no, you’d have fake identification with you in that case. Phew.”

“It’s—”

“But I just wanted to say I love your vibe and it’s great to see you again!”

…

“…And also I wanted to ask you some stuff. Are you a public speaker kinda guy?”

Zane found himself, for once, stunned silent. This girl’s energy outdid even the most energetic woman he knew. She couldn’t have been any older than her mid-twenties, a bit and then some younger than him, which explained a lot.

Still, it was charming—it made him want to entertain her a bit. He checked to make sure his hood hadn’t fallen as he spoke. “Hm, hm. Depends. What’re you paying with? Advice ain’t a free resource.”

“Oh, come on! Pretty please?”

“Ehhhh.”

“Please?”

“Ehhhhhhhhhhhh.”

“Please please please please please please please please please please please please please—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. A thousand more ‘please’s and I’ll consider the debt paid.” That’s what he got for stealing Shay’s shtick…

The woman laughed, one of those full body ones where her happiness seemed on par with a virus. “Don’t test me, I just might!”

“Okay, I believe you.” Zane put his hands up as if under arrest. “So you’re looking for what? Speaking advice? Natural charisma donations? I can do both.”

She twirled her curls around her fingers, smile wobbling. “Uh—both would be super appreciated, but I guess since the latter technically isn’t possible, just speaking advice’ll do.”

“Cool. What’s the occasion?”

“Um…”

Zane frowned. She clammed up real fast, huh? It only increased his curiosity. “Hey, how about you introduce yourself first? Give me an idea of who you are.”

“Right—I haven’t even told you my name, huh? Urgh, this always happens. I totally get ahead of myself and start rambling.” She stuck a hand out. “I’m Effie Finlay. I’m a dockworker, and I’m starting a new group in town.”

“What’s the group about?”

“Well… it’s like—a labor organization thing. A union of dockworkers, sailors, of everything working to keep the ports running. I’ve been working at the same company since before I was legally allowed to work, so it’s not like this is all new to me.”

“Huh. interesting.”

Zane leaned in, and she blushed. “Yeah! It’s like… profits go up for the companies, but our wages are dropping, and they’ve been scrutinizing our work more and more. Less talking, more labor, no water breaks, can’t even stop to breathe without some hired security grunt yelling in your face. I’m not even getting into the humiliating security checks yet or the messy schedules making us go way over our maximum hours, all off the record. It’s not fair, and I’m not gonna sit by and watch the most hardworking people I know rot away with broken bodies, poor penniless beggars for tourists to point and laugh at like they could never become that.”

Zane believed her story. He hadn’t seen the worst that she described, but he imagined the slow escalation of the already miserable wages dockworkers earned years ago, and everything fit into place.

Miserable people praying on the desperate. Tale as old as time, tale Zane’s seen in so many different ways he almost admired the girl’s tenacity to be so open about it. She had no talent, she barely strung coherent thoughts together, but she still wanted to make a change.

And yet.

“It sucks, so I’ve been trying to mobilize us, but… no one takes me seriously. I have some people coming by our meetings, but I need to recruit more people fast before we get shut down by shipping companies. I figure, if I want people to listen to me…” She cupped her face in her hands, blushing harder than before. “…I gotta learn how to be someone people wanna listen to. And you seem like the type. Just a couple quick lessons, please! And then I’ll leave you alone.”

Just a lesson or two. A quick few words, and Zane would disappear from Effie’s life. She’d try, probably fail, but at least she’d tried—better than what most people managed.

Even if Zane wanted to help (and maybe he did, maybe) he didn’t have time. They’d leave before long. Before the hour ended, perhaps.

But still—

Still—

Zane’s heart spoke before his mind stopped him. “I got something better than lessons. How about you let me be your official rally guy?”

Her eyes sparkled, and he knew he fucked up, but the best mistakes always felt so good in the moment.