02 – Some Matrix Bullshit

Kayda reached over and swiped the bottle from Torch who was in the middle of pouring herself a second drink. Hypocritically, she took a swig right from the neck before either of them could react.

Monty snatched it right out of her hands. "No, now I get why she keeps you around. Just because you think you're going to die doesn't mean you have to pollute all my merchandise."

Kayda wasn't listening though. In that moment, her attention was only for Torch. Her eyes were warm and lively, colored like the sun ten minutes after it had disappeared. For a total whack job lunatic, she moved through life as if it were light. Or maybe that was an understatement. There was a lot of unspoken history that she knew better than to pry into. Yet that was something that she understood better than most people her age.

Still...she made it all look easy. Not unlike a daughter of Iris, Kayda once knew.

As she watched her newest friend from the corner of her eye, her heart grew heavy and her vision began to swim. Torch was not the first person to take that stool by her side. She wouldn't even be the second person, or the third.

"If you can guarantee me my half hour, I'll risk myself and tell you a tale," she said quietly and smiled with the politeness of someone who had never the seen the world.

Despite his size, Monty's hands touch was feather soft as he pulled up a stool on his side of the counter and leaned his broad arms out in front of him. "You of all people would have every reason not to tell anything to me."

"You're right. I hate you vile scum to the ends of the earth." Kayda's voice remained even as she watched closely to gauge his reaction. The tavern owner seemed to take that with grace. "If I could eliminate you all and bring you begging to your knees, I would. And I wouldn't hesitate to force you down with them, pry your jaws open and force the sands down your throat alive with ticks and bed lice. The Underground is the shit of the earth, toxic waste like nothing there ever should be. They're everything wrong with Neo Neo Neo and wrong with the world. I have no reason to be friendly with you, if you're still in good graces –"

"He was in good graces," Torch interjected gently. "He left the Undergound, Kayda. "

"He left active service." She bit back. "Doesn't change the fact that he wasn't eliminated from them. They still let him run around doing his own thing. He wanted some time off and he got it – it doesn't mean he's gone for good."

Monty was dark skinned, dark eyes, and had a mug like he's been on the losing end of too many fights. Kayda's brain was fizzling around the edges, watching his lips as he opened his mouth to speak. "How much has she told you about me?"

"You're like a bouncer between this world and theirs." Kayda made grabby hands for the bottle. He didn't give it to her. "If the Underground is like the mafia, you're like the black dude in horror movies."

"Excuse me?" He sat up and rested his head on his fist.

"You know, you die first."

Monty rolled his eyes. "I did a lot of things for the Underground – but you're right about one thing. Everyone down there is expendable." He nodded over at Torch. "That's what I've been trying to tell her all her life."

"Well it only really took 36 hours with me for her to figure it out so meh." Kayda stuck out her tongue like the fully mature adult she was. She sighed and looked longingly at her empty glass. Some stories weren't meant to be told. They were better existing in tandem without any interference to cross them into each other. When legends came together things got messy, and Kayda hated cleaning.

She took a deep breath before shaking her head. "Look, bruh do you have some pretzels or something, my nerves are going to blow out. Talking to you goes against every grain in my body and I feel like a sandbox with all this...graini...ness..." Kayda sighed and plopped her head down on the counter with a loud thunk.

Monty reached under the bar again and pulled out a bag of Snyders and handed it to her. "Time's moving."

"Relatively it feels like nothing has moved at all." Kayda muttered and dragged a handful of pretzels onto the bar to pick at them one by one.

"C'mon Kayda. At least tell him why they're after him."

"Yeah yeah, shush. I'm getting there." Kayda sighed and nudged her glass over to Monty. "Water please. Or coffee if you have it. This is going to be the longest half hour of my life." He sighed and got up from his stool.

"You know, Torch – Rhea – whatever the fuck you name is –" Monty returned with from his back room with three mugs of coffee and a bottle of water. "It hurts to look at you –"

"What?" She looked confused; Kayda hadn't told her everything either.

"You're not the first person to sit there beside me, laughing and joking like everything was no big deal. I've sat on this stool a thousand times in a bar dimensions away from here... except...there was more natural light coming in the front doors....and... there would always be people around...even at 3 in the morning..." Kayda looked at Torch and hugged her hands around the mug. "And that person sitting the stool there was a lunatic too. Just like you –"

"I'm beginning to detest this whole lunatic thing."

Kayda's eyes were filmy as if she wasn't all there. "And her hair was red, lipstick as dark as blood...she liked wine...and scotch – not together though. At least I hope not – this feels like it was a thousand years ago...but to be honest it's only been about...four years?" She raised the end of the statement. Time was relative for a lot of reasons.

Torch and Monty were both looking at her intently and Kayda sensed that her story had already begun.

"I guess there is a good a place to start as anywhere. This girl – this girl I knew in another life. She as strong, and crazy as they come. She wanted to start a movement, take back what truly belonged to her and her people. She was smart too, charismatic. I was proud to call her a sister – slightly less proud to her call her a friend – but hey when you're in a downward spiral you're in a downward spiral. Shit gets real and your decisions become...questionable. To be honest I was as blood thirsty as her at the time, I really didn't care – Anyway. I called her Nix – short for Phoenix – about as real as your name, huh Torchy?"

Torch rubbed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief.

Kayda chose to ignore her. "This was a long time ago...I think. The borders get blurry and I can never really remember how things ended exactly... but let's see." She tapped the side of her head as if it would jog the memories buried deep inside her brain. "I didn't go by Kayda at the time, Kayda is my most recent name... I had to change to it so no one would see me and so I could disappear here.

Back then I went by something different. Something that would get me recognized in an instant if I went back – not that I can." Kayda looked misty eyed at the ceiling where there was a moth fluttering by the hanging lights. "Back then...my name was Mya."

[[]]

I was foolish enough to think I was immortal at this point in my life. Despite having died more than once I had this annoying habit of always coming back. I was never really the suicidal type until after I joined the Revolution so there was nothing really wrong with the coming back bit. Things were getting shaky in that place around this time. The world was ending for a dozen different reasons and here we were trying to change something that was already broken.

Very atypically of me, I left some friends behind to take my place in this circle. I left my old circle – and for what? Not very sure to this day why those decisions felt like the right ones. My mind is a curious place, but man is it a pain in the ass to live with it.

I was born September 21, 1889.

To a god.

OP right? In any and all fairness, I don't remember anything of it up until the year 2000. And now the year is...I'm not really sure. It's always been a pain in the ass, being a child of the gods. There are plenty of reasons for it. Prejudice. Lots of Death. Limited potential. DEATH. A low tolerance for fatty foods. Weird voices talking to you from the walls. Weird voices talking in your head, and in your dreams. Weird voices in the rivers, weird voices in the trees. Weird voices scolding the weird voices. And a LOT of dEAtH.

And of course, on top of it all, there was all of the goddamned political discourse – because heaven forbid we (the minority) could agree on anything amongst ourselves. The world was separated into factions, sectors...divisions. At least most of the one I remember from this time was. It was a world built from chaos, withstanding order like a broken knee to a cast. It was a world just like any other. I had lived in a few others before, but they always had the same ideas. And the people could never find a way to accept others' differences. Such is the curse brought forth with consciousness.

My anger was a wrath worthy of the immortals. Although most people would just slap me your basic moody teenager label and continue their way. But when you can couple attitude with power, a new form of angsty is born – and man do people find it attractive. Alternatively, they are terrified of it and want to get rid of it. I was a person born of taboo, not just of a god, but a dark god. I remember the whispers that followed me as I walked down the streets. Another addon to the weird voices list. It's just like human beings to judge people by their parents. Like we're anything like them – or maybe we're just like them. Who knows? Psht. Yeah, it was a terrible thing to be born special in the world of the gods.