Khor Kosavić - The Eel
The Brewery Disctict, The Jolly Jalopy
Alcohol sprayed onto the bar from a choked chortle. Antonio’s expression froze, unsure to settle on surprise or frustration until Khor pointed at the tv screen in the corner. “Turn it back, you have to see this.” Antonio complied, rewinding the news broadcast a couple seconds to watch whatever caused such reaction. It wasn’t long until he was snickering alongside Khor as well. “Was that a cartoon bomb?”
Khor started wiping themself clean, still chuckling. “The round ones with the burning wicks, yeah.” Antonio looked back to the bar smiling, wiping the mess away. “Who throws old mortar bombs around anyway?” Khor attempted to stand but fell back into their chair. “Go-getters, that’s who. People building a brand, an image with vision, gusto even!” Khor’s face suddenly scrunched. “Why the hell aren’t we moving and using round wick bombs Antonio?”
Antonio rolled his eyes, still smiling. “Probably because we don’t have the time anymore to get ourselves killed throwing cartoonish bombs at some boss’s building.” Khor gave a vigorous nod. “That we don’t. Shame, sure does look fun.” The tone began to turn, Khor slumping into their chair. Looking to the tv again it played the footage over earning one last scoff. Khors eyes began to darken before Antonio broke the silence. “You alright Khor?”
Thoughts broken, Khor lit up again, a smile flashing. “I love this city.” Antonio stood drying the glass. He’d been in this profession long enough to see a drunken ramble coming a mile awhile. Leaving the silence to Khor to collect themself they eventually let their drunken thoughts spill onto the bar.
“It’s a place, of broken dreams. Beautiful little fragments left to pick up and make into something tragically beautiful. Something earnt through blood. Something real. Ours. Wrought in beautiful blood. Tragic beautiful…” Khor trailed off in catching Antonio propping a concerned eyebrow. Locking eyes with him, sliding forward, Khor took one of his hands.
“Has anyone told you that you’re beautiful Antonio?” Antonio ripped his hand away and pushed Khor back into their chair laughing. “You’re an idiot.” Giggling Khor tried to steady themself. “You wouldn’t have it any other way. Anyway. Business.” Antonio nodded in agreement. “Business.”
Khor stabbed a finger into the bar. “Military birds. Crapping cargo on the city. Weapons?” Antonio tilted his head. “Most likely. Lads think there's reinforcements too. Del Guarde, if info’s good.” Khor ‘s face soured. “Deeeel Guarde’oooh. Lovely, and the Order just exploded with action today didn’t it.” Antonio looked back to the bottles stacked along the wall. “Yep. Also rumour is Vincent was taken in for questioning.”
Khor froze hearing that. Finding Antonio’s stoney expression in the bar’s backsplash mirror it took a moment before they could manage a reply. “Shit.” Khor’s eyes eventually rose again to Antonio. “Anything else?” Antonio shrugged. “Uptick in Gyfted abductions, massive rise in activity city wide, that’s about it.” Khor pursed their lips, processing everything they’d just heard, resting their chin on their hands. “Whole goddamn city’s exploding.”
Antonio grunted an affirmation and Khor’s head slid further into their hands. “We’re out of time then.” Khor slowly rose, fingers covering their mouth. “Out. Of. Time.” Brow scrunching, they let their hands fall to slap against the bar. “There’s some fucked up irony in that somewhere, isn’t there.”
Antonio stopped for the first time tonight, leaning against the bar, voice low. “Plan B then.” Khor frowned. “BlitzPlay. Couldn’t hide forever I suppose. William as runner, activate the cells, and tomorrow morning will be a very new day for the Brewery District.” Antonio’s expression fell. “Oh. You haven’t...” He stopped to take a breath. “William got himself killed this morning. Shot at some badges who found his package.”
Khor winced. “Goddamnit. Stupid kid should’ve known just to run. Freddy then, and keep those little shits in line. Things are going to get rough enough as it is.” Standing up with a stumble Khor picked up their helmet and Antonio stopped what they were doing. “Not coordinating the troops tonight?” Khor waved without turning. “Got a doctor’s appointment, urgent. I’ll still make it for go time.”
Antonio called out as Khor began sauntering toward the door. “You’re not riding drunk as a skunk.” Turning Khor gave a shake of the head. “Nah, got a ride with Rada.” Antonio recoiled slightly, looked away then back to Khor “I think you should take your bike.” Khor laughed. “Nah she’s good. Nothing like the gut shitting fear of death to sober you up anyway.”
Hesitating before closing the door, khor looked back to Antonio. “Thanks. For this. It was nice to feel like things were normal.” Antonio nodded, a warm smile forming before Khor closed the door and embraced the brisk night as another nobody one last time before getting into the car waiting for them.
The Brewery District, In transit
soundcloud.com/tokyoroseofficial/toky…“WOOOOHAHAAA!”
Rada hollered at the wheel, narrowly missing another car before ripping hers around. Tires screeching. Horns blaring. Metal groaning. Clearing the corner a moment of reprieve was quickly replaced by dread again as the engine roared once more. G-force squeezed what adrenaline was left out of Khor’s body alongside gears thudding and Rada cheering. “Nothing like a midnight cruise! Come on even you thought that was impressive.”
Rada looked over to find Khor pressing their entire body against the edge of the seat and door, arms splayed holding onto any false hope of security. Khor’s eyes caught hers for a moment and though nothing was said their expression begged that she turned hers back to the road. Sighing she kept her attention facing forward. “You know this is your fault right.”
Khor forced a response through clenched teeth. “
How.”
Rada gripped the wheel prepared to tear through another intersection. “Shouldn’t have given me the contacts to get such a nice ride.” The wheel spun, shortly followed by the car. Cabin filled with hollering again Khor squeezed their eyes shut trying to shield themselves from their current reality. The violence of motion was enough to inspire fear alone though and in opening them they found two bright headlights glaring through the windscreen.
The pitch of the truck horn blaring dropped like a rock while the car kept its pace. The wheels of the wall of steel beginning to slide in slow motion, the smoke building on its tires like water condensing from the air. Once clear the truck rushed forward. The pitch of screeching tires rising. Rada turned, unimpressed. “It’s not fun when you cheat like that.”
Khor again forced out a word. “Reflex.” Rada eased off the throttle. “I thought you were in a rush.” Khor let out a breath, unsure how long they’d been holding it. “Not that much. Jesus.” Rada tutted before exclaiming and rummaging around the centre console. “Got something I could use your help with actually.” She eventually tossed a handgun onto Khor’s lap. “Stupid thing won’t fire. Think you can make it work?”
Khor’s eyes sharpened on the weapon before grabbing it. “That’s an easy fix.” Briskly tossing it out the window Rada responded with slamming the brakes. “Wha- Dude! The fu-”. Khor cut her off. “You don’t want to be a courier Rada. Certainly not a smuggler. Stick to racing.” Rada blew a raspberry. “Rich coming from you.”
Khor looked to Rada, something about her determination filling them with dread. Looking back through the windscreen Khor nodded forward. “I do have an urgent appointment.” Without breaking her glare, Rada slammed the car back into gear. She made sure the rest of the trip was especially exhilarating.
The Brewery District, Hoc Joc HQ
soundcloud.com/thoughtmusic/nmrih2-dr…Khor almost fell out of the car. Legs still jelly from the trip. Turning to thank Rada the wheels were already spinning, screeching before taking off. Khor watched the taillights disappear around the corner as a voice came from behind. “She looks pissed.” Turning on their heels Khor greeted the woman curtly. “Akir.”
Taking a moment for one more drag on the last of many cigarettes’ Akir gestured for Khor to enter the tower. “Your late.” Riding the glass elevator upward Nocturnia began to sprawl out before them. It’d be a pleasant sight if not for the gravity of the moment. With the silence getting awkward Khor glanced at Akir. “Heard that Otto’s projects are coming along quickly, your brother been well?” Akir squinted toward Khor. “Won’t shut the fuck up about how the numbers keep telling him how bad my research is for business. Hasn’t seen mum and dad in months now.”
The silence became cold. The elevator frigid with tension. The release of the doors sliding open turned the focus of the two to the purpose of the meeting at hand. Akir pointed at a chair, Khor sat, and Akir slapped test results onto the desk letting them slide out of their stack. “You’ve aged a year.” Khor looked at her, then away, and back to her. “Uh… no shit? Everyone ages.” Akir closed her eyes blowing air through her nostrils. “No. Your as old as I am now. You’ve lost a year of your life.”
Khor sat expressionless. “Ah.”
Akir waiting for more than just an ah. Nothing forthcoming Akir pressed straight into questions. “How often have you been using your Gyft.” Khor responded flatly. “Pretty liberally.” Akir bounced her head. “Pretty liberally.” The bounce turned to shaking. “Well good work, at this rate your body will begin to fail in a few years.” Akir sat, head falling back onto her headrest. “Just what the hell are you doing Khor.” Khor spat back. “You know damn well what.” Akir began spinning a pencil in her fingers. “Alright. What for then. Why?”
Khor collected themself. Thought where to begin and settled on the start. “I used to hate this city.” Akir scoffed. “I still do.” Khor continued. “These Gyft’s. It’s like radiation. You can’t see it, but it permeates everything. Our communities. Our sense of self. Our bodies. But. One day I realised that blaming Gyft’s was just an excuse. All they did was expose who we really were and, in a way, showed us true freedom. Realisation of the self. Forced us to look in the mirror to see what was really there. With that I saw true beauty, tragic, but undeniable beauty. An undeniable reality.”
The pencil in Akir’s hands stopped spinning, eyes filled with a cautious curiosity. “And what is that?” Khor looked down and smiled. “That this city is a pure thing. Something that may even, one day, become something good in every intention. But as long as the outside world tries to influence or control it, then the city will keep lashing out, defending itself against perverse intentions for it.” Akir stared past Khor, unsure how to process what was said. “Alright. What are you going to do about it?”
Khor swallowed before looking Akir in the eye “I think it’s time to put a face behind the Eel.”
Her response was immediate. “No.” Khor pleaded. “Listen-.” Akir stood. “No!”
Silence filled the clinical room. Akir took a breath and began to pace.
“I have kids strapped to beds down there, Gyfted kids, who are a threat to themselves and society just because of some bad luck catching a Gyft they can’t control. They aren’t happy being locked up in a tower watching the world go by out the windows but then they hear a legend like the Eel, and they start thinking ‘I could be that, I could be free’. Gives them some hope, sure, but you turn that legend into reality and their hope turns into action. Action that gets them killed. Not just them, but people out there who worship that legend, people like Rada, and everyone in their way. All because you have some fucking fantasy about the future of this city.”
She stopped only to look at Khor as if they were a demon, her voice dropping low to a growl. “But you already know that don’t you. You’ve already lost kids because you made them believe in your own bullshit, haven’t you.”
Khor sat still looking down at the desk, leaning on the back of the chair. “We’re out of time Akir.” Akir’s eyes flitted. “What the hell does that mean.” Khor looked to her. “Gyfted abductions are increasing. Military incursions are increasing. The violence is increasing. It’s starting to fall apart, and I don’t know what happens after that.” Khor paused for a moment. “All I know is that people like us. We’re the target.”
Akir stopped pacing, eyes moving side to side, mulling over recent events in her mind, comparing them to her studies of the events that led to the culmination of warzone 13. Eventually her eyes became still staring at the wall as if she was lost in a grand view of the city before falling back into her chair. “We’re out of time.”
Akir stared at the ceiling while Khor toward the desk. Neither were sure how long had passed, and it wasn’t until Akir spoke under her breath that both their trances were broken. “Out. Of. Time.” Her eyes shot to Khor. “Ironic. Considering your condition.”
Khor allowed themself to smile, if only briefly. Akir put her pencil to paper. “So, what do we do.” Khor gestured to the lab. “Well, you keep trying to find a cure for the Gyft. That way people can at least wash the target off their backs if they choose too.” Akir nodded and spoke again without looking up. “And you?”
Khor clenched their teeth. “I’ve got some ideas on how the city could be secured.” Akir stopped writing. “That’s insane. Even if it was remotely possible, the famine from cutting off aid drops would be devastating at best.” Khor nodded. “That’s why I’m really hoping your brother has some solutions in his self sufficiency city program. If not, I’ll figure something.”
Akir snorted. “You’ll figure something. Great. Inspiring.” Akir shook her head and dropped the pencil, looking to Khor one last time. “I’ll be honest. I’m expecting that you’ll be dead within the week, and that might be the best outcome opposed to you trying to start a civil war.” Khor met her gaze. “I’d rather die trying than be tied down to a bed, and if we’re being honest, I’m sure those kids down there feel the same way as well.”
Akir froze, then came the fire in her eyes. “Get out.”
Khor stood and gave a half salute. “We’ll see who solves this first then.”
Akir spat. “Get. Out.”
The elevator doors closed and Khor disappeared downward. Akir wandered to the window scanning the city for anything that Khor might see in it that she couldn’t. Staring until her eyes strained, she turned away rubbing her face, walking back to her desk to get back to work, muttering as she sat. “To hell with this city.”
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