Through determination and skill, Echo exacted revenge on those who wronged her. However, revenge came at a great cost: her personal freedom and values. Now, Echo finds herself in the employ of The Black Dragon Clan, indefinitely. Although she appears faithful to Kano and his organization, her true desire is to free herself from his clutches and finally live her life as she chooses.
Johnny Cage Announcer names:
Echo! Echo! Echo!
[Hacker voice] “I'm in...”
8-Bit
Shy Guy
I swear I've seen you before...
Atomic Blonde
Weapons
Dagger
Throwing knives
Ruger handgun
Cattle prod
Fighting Style
“Black Dragon”
(Or whatever you want to call the combination of things Kabal, Alex, Kate, and Erron taught her, plus her previous self-defense courses.)
Echo, recalling the term “Echo Fighter,” uses a few moves she's learned from her peers. This can be seen in her throws, punches, kicks, and her handgun use.
Appearance
Main skin:
Anonymous - Echo’s mission outfit is inspired by techwear, a specific cyberpunk/hacker style. She wears a hooded techwear jacket, black drop-crotch pants, a grey waffle-knit vest that holds her throwing knives, and a white mask to hide her identity. She wears her usual stompy combat boots. Her Fairbairn-Sykes combat knife is strapped to her right thigh.
Extra skins:
Uniform – A sweater, skinny jeans, and combat boots. Black sweater, green sweater, blue sweater, gray sweater, Christmas sweater are options.
Outworld Explorer – Echo's desert outfit featuring lots of draping cloth, a leather knife holster that resembles a rib cage, her mask, and a hood.
Cyborg Chic – Inspired by X/1999, Echo wears a latex suit covered in cables and electronics.
Black Dragon Dirtbag – One of Echo's original concepts, more punk/grunge with a torn sweater and several piercings.
Torture Technician – Echo wearing her white mask, a latex apron with torture tools hanging from a belt, and latex gloves.
Hackerman – Echo's Kombat League skin. Hackerman costume from the movie “Kung Fury.”
Lazuli – Echo’s second Kombat League skin. An Android 18 costume, the classic striped shirt with jean vest, jean skirt, tights, and boots.
Customizable Gear
Mask
Starting mask is plain white and featureless. Several masks allude to famous masks in pop culture, and some are just neat white and black mask designs. Her final unlockable mask is her bare face/glasses.
Dagger
Her Fairbairn-Sykes combat knife is her starting weapon. I imagine her most powerful dagger is a Kamidogu.
Throwing Knives
Starting throwing knives are basic Japanese darts. The throwing knives vary from simple, classic designs, to elaborate metalwork designs featuring roses, stars, and stained glass.
Konsumables
Rubber Apron – 50% resistance to Blood Damage
Computer Tablet – Summon Echo to assist during the fight!
Canned Coffee – Restores 50% health over the course of 20 seconds.
Stage
Black Dragon Server Room
A large cement room with looming metal shelves, beeping and glowing electronics. Florescent lights overhead. Desk in the background. Interactive items include: computer monitor, trash can, keyboard.
Fatal Blow
Echo takes two throwing daggers and jabs them into the opponent's stomach. As they're bent over in pain, she throws a dagger into the air, and as it falls, she axe-kicks it into the opponents' head. As the final move, she pulls out her cattle prod and shocks the opponent, blowing them backwards. You can see sparks coming off the knives embedded in their body.
Friendship
Echo pulls out two Gameboys with a link cable, hands one to the opponent and starts playing. After a little bit, Echo’s Gameboy makes a triumphant string of beeps, and Echo fist-pumps in victory.
Brutalities
Like He Taught Me - Echo shoots the opponent between the eyes with her Ruger and then twirls it and puts it away. Shooting the opponent must be final move.
Feeling Electric - Echo jolts them with her cattle prod and they explode. Cattle prod must be final move.
Hat Trick - Echo throws three knives and they hit the opponent in the middle of their face. Must have performed a dagger throw from long-range.
Quick and Easy – Echo slits her opponents' throat. Must have performed a throw with the opponent's back to her.
Spilling Their Guts – Echo disembowels her opponent. Dagger stab performed at close range as final move.
Fatalities
Note: Fatalities cannot be performed on Alex or Erron when playing as Echo. If the player tries inputting a fatality, she will instead wave a little white flag and then hand it to them.
Write Off (Close) - Echo draws two throwing knives and launches one into each of her opponent’s thighs. The opponent drops to their knees in pain, clutching at the knives desperately. Echo approaches holding her favorite pen. She twists it open revealing the concealed blade. She caresses the opponent’s jaw lovingly before jamming the pen-blade into their temple, twisting it, and removing it. The wound sputters blood. As a last insult, she wipes the blade off on their clothing, then walks away.
Target Practice (Mid) - One of those wooden spinning targets (the kind you see at the circus) pops up behind the opponent. Echo throws several knives, outlining her target. She pauses to admire her work, and then pulls her main dagger from its thigh sheath. The final dagger is thrown at the opponent, pinning their head to the board.
Kharacteristics
Echo is more of a Mileena type, close range and fast. Reminiscent of Stryker with the amount of tools at her disposal.
Intros
Burner - Echo finishes a phone call with Kano, casually strolling up while she closes the flip phone and jams it into one of her pockets.
Ready to Go - Echo flips her dagger in one hand repeatedly then catches it by the handle. She stops, puts the other hand on her hip, and gestures with the dagger as if to say “Are we doing this or not?”
Dropping In – A helicopte appears overhead, and Echo slides down a rope ladder to the ground. She pulls out her dagger and walks forward.
The Esteemed One – A Shokan guard approaches, with Echo's small frame appearing between them. She signals for them to leave, and they bow and stand aside.
Behind the Mask – Echo faces the camera, mask pulled up so you can see her creepy eyes and blank expression. She pulls her mask down, adjusts the straps, pulls her hood up, and then faces her opponent.
Outros
Get in, Loser - The screeching of tires reveals Alex, Kate, and Kabal pulling up in one of the Black Dragon's Jeeps. Echo climbs into the back and she gives a little salute as they drive off.
Riding Off into the Sunset - Echo hears a horse trot up and snuffle behind her. She turns to see Erron riding up on his blue Outworld steed. Erron pulls her up onto the horse and they ride off together.
Let Me Get This - Answers a phone call from Kano, holding up a finger for the person to wait, and then walks away with the phone to her ear.
Is That All? - Echo makes a kind of disgusted tutting noise, turns her back to the opponent, and walks away, pulling out her tablet and typing.
One for the Money – Echo brandishes a dagger, holds it horizontally in front of her face, slides her other hand across it and throws it into the camera.
End of Round Taunts
The screen flickers and binary code fills the screen, then stops. "My apologies, did I frighten you?"
Checks her phone.
Cleans her main dagger with a cloth.
"Rude."
"Let's get this over with."
"I don't have time for this."
“Sorry, babe.” (Against Erron Black.)
“No wonder Erron left your crew.” (Against Kotal Kahn.)
“Lights out.” (Against Kate.)
“Little sister got the best of you.” (Against Alex.)
“Guess I run the show now.” (Against Kano.)
“A whole lot of talk and nothing to back it up.” (Against Kabal.)
“Our business relationship has ended, my apologies.” (Against Sheeva.)
“Didn't see that one coming, huh?” (Against Lady Xuna)
Intro Dialogues under the cut (more to be added later):
Erron: "Hey, sugar."
Echo: After sighing and rolling her eyes, "Do you want me to make you bleed, Erron?"
Erron: "Do you really have to ask?"
-
Echo: "Do you want to get dinner after this?"
Erron: "How could I say no to a face like that?"
Echo: "It's a date then."
-
Erron: “Brains and beauty.”
Echo: “Stop, you're making me blush.”
Erron: “I got a few other ways to make you blush.”
-
Echo: "Is this about last night?"
Kabal: "You cheated!"
Echo: "Blue shells are not cheating!"
-
Kabal: “Let's see if all my training paid off.”
Echo: “If I lose, it's because you're a lousy teacher.”
Kabal: “Yeah, yeah, blame it on me.”
-
Alex: "Kiz kardes, are you mad at me?"
Echo: "No, this is only a little friendly rivalry between siblings."
Alex: "You know we can talk this out, right?"
-
Echo: "What do you want, Kate?"
Kate: “Just trying to make you lighten up.”
Echo: “I'm going to kill you for that pun alone.”
-
Kano: “Got another job for ya, luv.”
Echo: “How long is this one going to take, Kano?”
Kano: “As long as it needs to.”
-
Kano: “So, you and the cowboy, eh?”
Echo: “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Kano: “I know everything that happens at the base, luv.”
-
Johnny Cage: “Have we met somewhere before?”
Echo: Nervously.“Not that I'm aware of...”
Johnny Cage: “You look familiar.”
-
Echo: “Big fan, Mr. Cage.”
Johnny Cage: “Wait, really?”
Echo: “Is that so hard to believe?”
-
Lady Xuna: "Your present is sunk in darkness. What of your future?"
Echo: "Hopefully a little more buoyant."
Lady Xuna: "Then let us guide you, Paloma."
-
Lady Xuna: "Care to tell me about your cowboy?"
Echo: "Can't you just read my mind?"
Lady Xuna: "Where's the fun in that, my dear?"
-
Echo: "How fondly you look at the Thunder God, my lady."
Lady Xuna: "Is it so obvious, dear friend?"
Echo: "Not even your veil could hide it."
-
Echo: "Suppose I join your Defenders...what benefits are there?"
Lady Xuna: "A life guided by justice, freedom, and peace. One not controlled by a mastermind of torment."
Warnings: Graphic violence of the torture and murder variety. Implied child abuse. Implied SA.
Word count: 4019 (!?)
Summary: Erron Black conducts a job interview in the forest and things get messy.
@chadillacboseman
On the surface, this job seemed simple enough to Erron Black. Meet the contact, take out the target, dispose of the body. Basics. But the details were where the mission got...a might strange. The contact was accompanying him on the job, first of all. Not only that, but they had laid out the entirety of the mission themselves. He didn't know why Kano was trusting this mystery contact to do good on their part of the deal but Erron assumed that if there were any problems, like anything else, they could be solved with one well-aimed bullet.
Though, once Erron was informed how much the contact was willing to pay for this job, he knew exactly why Kano was taking the risk. 20 million dollars for a single bounty, transferred immediately upon completion of the job, in front of Erron for verification. Upon receipt of the transfer, Kano would send Erron a message confirming the payment. Then, both he and the contact would head back to the Black Dragon base. It was as much of a job for Erron as it was a job interview for the contact. The whole thing was...weird, in Erron's opinion. But Kano didn't pay him for his opinions.
It did occur to him, however, that Kano was sending him out on a mission, in the middle of nowhere, by himself, to meet a person (or many persons) he'd never done business with before. The whole thing sounded like a death trap. For Erron Black, that just made for an interesting night.
After a not-insignificant drive that crawled into the night, Erron found himself at a crossroads near the base of a mountain. He was relieved to have the majority of the driving done. Goddamn, he hated driving.
And It really was the middle of nowhere, too. Forest as far as the eye could see, except for a single road that snaked up the mountain, and the road he was currently on. He double-checked the coordinates Kano gave him and this was definitely the spot. He steadied his hand on his gun and opened the car door, the crunch of autumn leaves beneath his boot announcing his arrival as he stepped out of the car. So much for subterfuge.
Then, there was silence.
He eyed his surroundings, brows furrowed.
An owl hooted mournfully in the distance.
More silence.
“Huh. Kano wasn't kidding about the cowboy thing.”
Erron spun around, gun leveled. No one there.
“Up here.”
He looked up. A figure wearing a ski mask and dressed completely in black, eyed him from a tree branch about twenty feet away and fifteen feet up. They gave a single, small wave.
“So, you're the contact,” he said, raising his gun at them.
“I am,” they said. Their voice was flat, emotionless.
“You can come down...nice and slow.”
“Only if you promise not to shoot me. I'm unarmed.” They raised their gloved hands in the air and waggled their fingers, showing their lack of weapons.
“Cross my heart,” Erron said dryly.
The figure began their descent, moved from branch to branch with ease and dropped to the ground. Erron kept his gun steady as the figure approached him, their hands at their sides, palms open as a show of faith. They stood in front of Erron, met his gaze, the barrel of his gun practically touching their chest. They were smaller than he expected. And curvier. It was actually a woman, he determined, despite the deep, robotic tone in which they spoke.
“I have two duffel bags and a backpack hidden in piles of leaves near by. They're required for the job.” A beat. “You can put the gun away, you know.”
“Thinkin' I might keep it out for a while,” Erron said coolly.
The woman-in-black rolled her eyes, but her tone remained the same. “I'm not going to try to kill you. I couldn't, even if I tried. Plus, this job is kind of important to me. Can't blow a job interview by killing the interviewer.”
She had a point, but he remained wary. The gun stayed out. As the woman trudged her way through the trees, Erron followed. There were two piles of leaves that looked larger than the rest, and he watched as she lifted a backpack from one pile and shrugged it onto her shoulders, then grabbed two duffel bags out of the other. She began walking towards the car.
“You mind opening the door there, cowboy?” The woman tilted her head at the car.
He grunted and sauntered over to the car. Ever the gentleman, he opened one of the rear doors and watched her shove the duffel bags into the backseat. The backpack remained with her. The woman made her way to the passenger seat, settling the backpack between her legs as she got in the car. Erron closed the rear door and got back into the driver's seat, his eyes never leaving her.
“Where we headin' to?” he asked.
“North. There's a cabin about three miles from here. We'll park far enough away that they won't see the headlights and then we'll walk the rest. I have to disable the security system before we approach the house. Our target should be asleep, but I'll sneak in and immobilize him. I'll give you the signal to help me retrieve him.” Direct, to the point. He liked that.
Erron gave a short nod and pulled back out on to the road. It was quiet. Erron wasn't one to talk on the job and the woman didn't seem like much of a talker herself, if he was being honest. The silence was surprisingly comfortable. However, Erron did notice the amount of distance the woman put between herself and him, the way she leaned almost entirely against the door.
The woman straightened up after a few minutes passed. “Stop here, please.”
The car eased to a halt, and Erron turned it off.
Unzipping the backpack, she pulled out a cellphone, and began swiping and typing on it. After a minute or so, she put it away.
“Security system is disabled. Follow me, please.” She got out of the car and grabbed one of the large duffels from the backseat.
Erron did as requested, hand on his gun the entire time. They began their walk in the autumn cold, up a winding road with only reflectors at the shoulder to guide their way. Soon, he found himself at an opening in the forest, a wooden cabin before him.
The woman unzipped the duffel bag. Curious, Erron watched as she pulled out several zip ties and a blackjack. She stuffed the zipties in her jacket pocket and held the blackjack at her side.
“I'll give you the signal when I need you. I'll flicker the lights.”
And with that, she began walking towards the cabin. Either she had a key to the place, or the door was left open, because just waltzed right through the front door. Strange. Puzzled, he leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed over his chest and waited.
And waited.
The lights on the second floor flickered twice.
That was his cue.
He walked up to the cabin, found the door still unlocked, and made his way inside. He took in the surroundings. It was a fancy little place, from what he could see in the dark. Helluva lot of money went into this joint. It was the kind of place he'd want for himself some day, when his body finally decided to give up on him.
He began climbing the stairs, taking note of the photos along the stairwell. Several family photos of vacations and staged holiday photos: husband and wife beaming and a young blonde girl smiling softly.
Erron felt something twinge in his chest, narrowed his eyes, and kept moving.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he looked down the hallway the woman standing over an unconscious man in what he assumed was the bedroom. She was binding his hands together with the zipties. Upon closer inspection, Erron saw that the man's feet were already bound, he was gagged, and there was a large lump forming on the man's head. It was the man from the photo in the stairwell.
“Will you carry him, please? I can't lift him myself.” She gestured to the man on the floor and shoved the leftover zipties in her jacket.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he drawled, leaning down and scooping the man up onto his shoulder.
“He should be out for a while. Long enough until we get to our next destination.”
“Where we headed to, now?” he asked, eyebrow cocked.
“Pig farm,” she said, casually, “About an hour from here.”
That statement gave Erron pause and he smirked beneath his mask. Little lady knew what she was doing. Maybe she'd fit in after all.
They made their way out of the house, the woman stopping to scoop up her duffel bag, and then back to the car in silence. Unceremoniously, Erron dumped the man into the trunk, closed it, and they got back on the road. With his companion giving directions, they made their way to the farm in just under an hour.
The woman wrangled the duffel back out of the car. She went right to digging through the bag again, pulling out a tarp, several thick towels, a roll of trash bags, a pair of scissors, and thick rubber gloves. With a snap, she laid out the tarp, put down a double layer of towels, and gestured at it.
“You can drop him there.”
Erron pulled the unconscious man from the trunk, laid him out on the towels and tarp, and began leaning against a tree. He watched her, now very curious.
She readied three trash bags, laying them out in the grass next to her. She began cutting away the man's nightclothes and underwear, putting the pieces in one of the trash bags. Then, she began pulling on the heavy rubber gloves.
“Hey, cowboy. Can you keep your gun ready? Things may get a little...hectic.”
From behind her, she heard the hammer cock on his gun.
She reached into her bag and produced a switchblade with a beautiful marble handle. She flicked it open with a flourish. Erron had to give it her. She had style.
Then, with her knifeless hand, she began slapping the unconscious man awake, “Wake up, asshole.”
A few more slaps. The man came to, and once he saw the ski-masked person looking down at him, he started screaming.
“Stop.” She held the knife to the man's throat. “If you don't stop screaming, I will do several things you will not like.”
He sounded like he was crying now, but he wasn't screaming anymore.
Erron watched her get very close to the man's head. She was talking, but he couldn't quite make out what she was saying. The gag was pulled from the man's mouth briefly and she leaned close to hear him. Whatever he said, she didn't like the answer. Her knife, now pointed down, began jabbing around on the man's chest. Several wounds blossomed in his flesh, blood running in rivulets to the towels beneath. Again, she removed his gag, but the man did not speak, so her blade moved to his hands, and began carving lines down his digits. When he began screaming, she shoved the gag back into his mouth and held the knife to his throat. He stopped screaming. She pulled the gag away a third time, and the man began speaking again for much longer. Whatever he said this time, however, seemed to satisfy her. She put the gag back in his mouth and stood up, twisting the knife in her hand as she looked down at him pathetically whimpering.
She was thinking.
It happened quickly. Seemingly incensed, she grabbed the man's genitals, and hacked them off her knife. The man started screaming deep, body-shaking screams and jerking around on the tarp as she carved away at his flesh. She didn't seem to care about his screaming this time and launched the man's parts into the pigs' holding pen. The pigs squeaked and snorted and gathered to investigate.
The woman turned to Erron. “You can shoot him now.”
And Erron did. He approached and leveled his gun. One shot in the head and the man went silent and still.
She stared at the body for a moment, as if contemplating her next move. She got the scissors back out, cut the zip ties on his hands and feet, and removed the gag. Those items went into the trash bag with the dead man's clothes.
She went to her duffel bag one last time, pulling out a very sharp, very heavy-looking saw. “This may take a little while. Get comfortable, if you like.”
And she went to work again. There was a detached efficiency to her movements, treating the dismemberment like a house chore. It was something that needed to be done, and that was that. Limbs were carefully carried to the pigs' pen, taking special care not to drip blood on the grass. Can't leave evidence. Once the limbs were out of the way, all that was left was the torso. She beckoned Erron closer with the curl of a finger.
“May I have some assistance?”
“Sure, sugar.” He left his post at the tree and walked to her.
She snapped open a trash bag and handed it to Erron. Then, she started sliding the towels out from under the body and began putting them in the bag. The towels were heavy with blood and made awful squelching noises as she pressed them down.
“We can lift the body using the tarp and slide it into the pen. On the count of three.”
The trash bag was placed on the ground, and Erron did as he was instructed. The body landed with a heavy splat in the muck, and the pigs seemed delighted.
The tarp was placed back on the ground, and the woman rolled it up, folding the sides in as she went, making sure no blood was spilled.
“Bag, please.”
Erron held the bag open once more, as she stuffed the tarp into it. Her bloody rubber gloves followed. Then the saw. She took the bag from him, tied it shut, and then shoved it into the bag with the discarded clothing and zip ties, finally putting the whole bundle into the third bag.
“Kano said there's an incinerator back at the base. That correct?”
“It is.”
“Wonderful.”
She took out her phone, set it to flashlight mode, and scanned the ground to make sure she didn't leave evidence, then put the phone away.
The woman paused, her body shifting towards the pig pen, and began watching the pigs snuffle as they devoured their late-night snack. From her lips, a slow, steady exhale, as if the tension was leaving her body. Satisfied, she faced Erron again. “I think my work here is done. Shall we?”
The trash bag was handed to Erron, and the woman picked up her (now empty) duffel bag. The trash bag was tossed into the trunk, the empty bag into the backseat. They got into the car once more, and Erron was the first to speak.
“I think it's time to discuss payment.”
She turned to him, and saw his gun was readied and pointed at her temple. She did not flinch.
“I'm getting there, cowboy.”
She clicked on the overhead light, not breaking eye contact with him. The laptop was retrieved again, and she began typing. It took a few minutes, but eventually, he felt the small cellphone in his vest pocket vibrate. He took it out and looked down at the screen. There was a notification from Kano.
[Cleared. 20 mil. Evac on the way.]
The phone was placed in his pocket, and Erron lowered his gun. “Well. Looks like the boss is pleased.” The gun returned to its holster.
“Good,” she said, stuffing the laptop back into her bag, “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr...?”
A gloved hand extended towards him.
He took her hand and shook it gently, “Erron Black. You?”
She thought for a moment, then answered, “You can call me Echo.”
He nodded and released her hand.
“Now that the festivities and formalities are out of the way, do you mind if I take this off?” She pointed to the ski mask. “It's terribly warm.”
“By all means.”
Echo grabbed the crown of the mask and pulled it off, shaking her hair out as she did. She ran a hand through it to brush it out and turned to him. “Much better.”
He tipped his hat back slightly as he looked at her. Well, I'll be damned.
It was the blonde girl from the photographs on the wall. A little older maybe, but it was definitely her. Same white-blonder hair, same freckles scattered on her nose just so, same eyes.
Erron worked his jaw for a few moments, taking in this new development, then started the car. “We're meeting some of the others at an evac point. It's a little ways away.”
She made a little hum of acknowledgment as she retrieved a pair of glasses from her backpack, put them on, then leaned back against the seat with her eyes closed.
The first rays of sunlight were beginning to ignite the horizon when Erron decided to speak.
“Your pa must've been a real sonuvabitch for you to do all that.”
Her eyes flickered open and she shot him a withering look.
“...are you judging me?” she asked, voice still flat.
“Believe me, I ain't one to judge.” He really wasn't.
There was a long pause before she spoke again.
“He was my step-dad, but yes. He was not a good person, and by killing him I prevented him from hurting more people. He was a monster. And now he's going to be pig shit.”
“From the sound of it, darlin', he was always pig shit.”
There was a small huff that vaguely resembled a laugh from her side of the car.
“You're not wrong.”
The silence returned and they continued driving for an hour or so. Erron drove the car through a wooded area, bumping over rocks and debris, then turned off the ignition.
“Get your bags. Let's get movin'.” He said, getting out of the car.
She did as she was told, grabbing her backpack and the two duffels. Erron took the trash bag out of the trunk and began to close it.
Echo stopped him. “Wait.”
She pulled out her phone again and checked the trunk for any signs of blood. “Clear,” she said, and then closed the trunk.
The car was left to rust in the forest, now abandoned.
Echo followed him through the woods to a clearing where a helicopter waited for them. Erron approached first, holding his hat in place, and the two men in the helicopter eyed her with apprehension.
“She's with us. Name's Echo,” he explained. He jerked his head towards the open door, signaling for her to get in. She ducked, clutching her bags, and climbed into the cabin of the aircraft. Erron followed suit and one of two Black Dragon members secured the door behind him. Echo took a seat against the window, Erron taking his seat next to one of the field agents.
The helicopter began its ascent. As they flew, the one field agent kept shooting glances at Echo while she looked out the window.
Erron noticed.
He leaned close to the field agent, voice low, “Eyes to yourself, friend.”
The field agent looked alarmed and then kept his eyes to the floor for the rest of the way.
The trip was relatively quick. When they arrived at the Black Dragon compound, Erron lead her through the doors and through the bustling bays and storage rooms. All eyes were on them as they walked in, people whispering to each other about the new person with Erron. He stopped one of the men in the bay, handed him the trash bag and told him to burn it. The man nodded and scurried off. They continued through the compound to a set of double doors. When the doors parted, they revealed a burly man with a metal plate where his right eye should have been, sitting at a desk littered with beer bottles and papers. To his right, a man in a metal mask with glowing red eyes and strange, curved swords strapped to his back stood with his arms crossed.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here, Erron? This our little friend?” The burly man asked.
Erron nodded. “She goes by Echo.”
“You must be Kano,” she said.
“In the flesh, love.” He grinned at her, then turned to the man on his right. “Kabal. Can you take our little friend outside? I need to talk to Erron alone.”
The masked man nodded and strode up to her. “Follow me.” His voice was raspy, and reverberated inside his metal mask when he spoke.
He lead her outside, and closed the doors behind him.
Kano leaned back in his chair, plopping his feet on the desk. “What do you think, mate?”
“She's something else, amigo,” he said, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops.
Kano's eyebrow raised. “Good investment, eh? Give me the details.”
“Thorough. Clean. She don't have a problem torturin' or killin' people. Knows her way around a computer, I 'spose, but you'd know better'n I would. Little weird, though.”
“Fuck, aren't we all?” Kano laughed. “You're dressed like a fuckin' cowboy and I got a motherfucker in an iron lung out there.”
Erron let that one slide, too tired to retort. Unfortunately, Kano had a point.
Kano took a swig of beer and slammed the bottle down on the table. “So, she passes?”
“That she does.”
Kano gave a satisfied smirk. “Alright then, bring her back in. I need to talk to her alone.”
Erron nodded, strode through the doors, and approached her and Kabal. “Kano wants to talk. Privately. You can go, Kabal.”
Echo gave Kabal a long look as she walked away and followed Erron inside again.
Kano gestured for her to sit, and she did so, dropping her bags to the floor. Kano looked at Erron and waved a hand towards the door. Erron turned on his boot heels, meeting Echo's eyes briefly. He gave a small tip of his hat and left.
A shark-like smile spread across Kano's rugged face. “Echo. First things first, love.” His jovial tone shifted. “I don't know if I should fucking kill you for infiltrating our databases or be impressed. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Not my fault your guy did shoddy work. He's the one who compromised your data, not me.”
“Well, he won't be doing anything again, in a couple hours. Not once I'm done with him.”
“Sucks for him.”
He laughed at that. “About our arrangement. You do what I tell you, when I tell you, and I'll keep you alive and protected. Any sign of betrayal, any hint you're trying to leave, and I'll kill you.”
“You'd be doing me a favor.”
“What if I torture you first?” He upped the ante. “Throw you to the boys, let 'em do what they want. They'd love a pretty little thing like you.”
She shrugged. “Wouldn't be the first time something like that happened to me.”
He snorted. “...You're a bleak cunt, aren't ya?”
“Possibly.”
He chuckled, and rested his cheek on his fist. “I think we'll get along just fine, love. What do you say? You in?”
“Don't have much of a choice at this point, do I?”
“Heh. I'd say not.”
“...I'm in.”
He smiled that shark's smile again, took a final swig of beer, and then gestured broadly.
“Well then, Echo...welcome to the Black Dragon. Let me show you around.”
Summary: Kano welcomes Echo to the Black Dragon and Echo makes Clerks references.
Author's Note: Sorry this took so dang long. Writer's block and stress, you know how it is. Drabbles and Session 3 in the coming weeks. Alex may make an appearance shortly.
“Well then, Echo...welcome to the Black Dragon. Let me show you around.”
Kano rose from his chair and walked over to her, his heavy steps the only sound in the room. He was massive, taller than her by several inches and very broad. He gave her a long look with his organic eye as he passed her and pushed the door open.
“Come on then, girlie. Let's get to it.”
Echo followed him, her bags in hand. Kano began to lead her through the compound rather briskly, gesturing apathetically at things as they went. The compound was home to some of the full-time BD employees, she learned, and had amenities to suit their needs. Besides the practical spaces required for the operation to run such as storage rooms, the loading bays, the offices, the base also had bunks and lockers, and some fancier rooms for the more privileged members of the group, such as Kano himself, Erron Black, and Kabal. Additionally, there was a mess hall with a bar attached to it, bathrooms and showers, and a laundry room. It was like a college dorm for the morally corrupt.
Kano began to lead her down a metal staircase to the basement, every step they took resonated loudly in the stairwell. Not far from the staircase was a gray door. The chill down here made Echo suddenly very grateful that she was wearing a sweater.
“This is where you'll be staying,” he said.
When the door was pushed aside, it revealed what looked like a server room with an office at the forefront. The servers twinkled and hummed in the back of the room, big bundles of cables snaking from their ports and weaving across the floor. There was a large wooden desk with a double-monitor computer set-up, a very nice gaming chair, some sort of phone/intercom, and a lamp. To the side, there were two more doors. Kano booted the first door open, revealing a sparsely decorated bedroom. The former IT and cybersecurity person's room, she assumed.
“You can toss all of that shite,” Kano said, “He won't be needing it.”
Echo nodded, understanding the implications. She added that to her to-do list.
He kicked the second door open, revealing a bathroom, and then went to the center of the server room and leaned against the desk with his arms crossed.
“You can leave your bags here. This is your domain now, love,” Kano declared, “Once we're done with this tour, I want you to scour every fucking inch of the work that drongo did. Fix it. I have the passwords and security codes you'll need, but we'll be changing them shortly after. Any open port, any fucking flaw, however the fuck you found us, I want it fixed. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Kano.”
“You'll also be handling the ordering of supplies and shipments for us, just as your predecessor did. We have multiple drop-off locations and you'll arrange the pickup of the shipments. You'll be auditing them and making sure everything is there. Any discrepancies, you come straight to me. You'll be doing some orders weekly, some monthly. I'll show you the ropes. Think you can handle that?”
“Yes, Kano.”
He grinned wolfishly. “Good. Now, for the terms of your deal. I'll pay you a monthly salary to cover any personal expenses, but you ain't getting the percentage from jobs like the others. Deffo not as much, anyway. Just consider our protection your compensation. Maybe if you do well enough, I'll give you a bonus, yeah?” He chuckled, then continued, “Since you can't leave the base, any basics you need you can just order like everything else and take it out of your stipend. I'll give you half of your salary this week to get you started, the rest at the end of the month. That work?”
Echo nodded.
“Well, then, now that the terms are out of the way, follow me. We have something to take care of.” He stood up again and made his way to the door.
She dropped her bags to the floor and followed Kano out of her room, up the echoing stairs. They were back on the main floor, in the midst of all the hustle and bustle. He lead her down the hallway, passing several storage rooms, lockers, and bunks until they reached another gray door at the end of the hall.
“Ah, here we are.” Kano shot her a toothy smile, cracked the door open, and lead her inside.
The room was cold and bare with the exception of a single dangling light bulb and a grate in the center of the floor. The was a chair in the corner. The floor was intermittently stained. That told her all she needed to know about the purpose of this room.
There was a man lying on the cement, his hands bound behind him, and a gag in his mouth. He looked dirty, as if he'd been there for a while and there were deep purple bruises on his arms and face already. Some bruises were already fading to a sickly yellow-green, which confirmed for Echo that he had been there for at least a week. When Kano entered, the man's eyes went wide with fear.
“Looks like we just found your replacement.” Kano sneered, jerking his head in her direction.
Echo looked down at the man, her expression placid.
Not satisfied with the beatings the man had already received, Kano landed a few kicks to the man's stomach and laughed. Kano seemed to be enjoying himself a bit too much, Echo noted. The man dry heaved a few times and coughed fitfully, curling in further on himself as a defensive measure. Kano leaned down and grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and pulled him to his knees easily, his strength far outmatching the injured man's.
“Now then, mate. About your severance package.” Kano pulled a handgun from the holster on his thigh. The man flinched.
Kano flipped the gun in his hand and held it out to her by the barrel.
“Why don't you do the honors?” He turned and smiled down at her. It was not a friendly smile.
Kano watched as her pale, thin hand wrapped around the grip and tightened. He let go of the barrel and Echo looked down at it, feeling the heft of it in her hand.
“You know how to use a gun, don't you?” Kano asked.
Echo nodded once.
“Then show me.” He folded his arms and took a step back. He was smirking.
Echo leveled the gun at the man's forehead, her cold eyes meeting his fearful eyes. After a moment, his expression shifted to one of resigned acceptance. He knew this was coming. It was just a matter of when.
“My apologies. It's only business," Echo said flatly.
She fired the gun, the sound ringing painfully in her ears. The body collapsed backwards, blood and brain matter hitting the concrete in a grotesque display that reminded her of an abstract painting. Echo handed the gun back to Kano, her eyes not leaving the corpse in front of her.
Her first kill.
It took a moment for that to sink in. One of many to come, she suspected.
Killing was just part of the job, wasn't it?
He looked down at the body, “We'll take care of that later. By the way, this is our room for torture and body disposal. You'll be spending a lot of time here, too. Heard you've got a talent for it.”
Echo blinked, but otherwise did not show her confusion. The cowboy must have said something.
Torture and dismemberment were part of the job now, too, she supposed.
“Whatever you need done, I'll take care of it.”
“I like your attitude, blondie.” Kano laughed and turned towards to the door. “I'll introduce you to the crew and then you can get to work.”
He took her back upstairs to the main room and yelled for everyone to gather around. They stopped their work and wandered over to their boss and the new girl. The crew was a collection of...unique individuals. A fair mix of men and women, rough and tumble types, piercings and tattoos abounded. All shapes, sizes, colors and creeds united under the idea of unimaginable wealth and Kano's false promises.
“Listen up, you lot. This here's Echo. She'll be taking over security and logistics from now on. The other guy was...fired, you could say.” A few in the group chuckled. “Anything you need ordered you go to her. She'll also be auditing anything we bring in, so make sure everything's top notch, or you'll have me to answer to. Now, get back to work.”
The Black Dragon agents scattered, going about their business.
Kano looked down at her. “Get yourself settled. I'll call you when I'm ready for you.”
“Yes, Kano.”
Kano left her in the loading bay, making his way back up to his office to do who knows what.
Echo paused and assessed the situation. She'd been up for well over 24 hours now. She'd already accrued several items on her to-do list, and it seemed she'd be working with Kano at least part of the day restructuring their security and computer systems.
She needed a cup of coffee. Or two.
Possibly three.
To the mess hall she went.
The mess hall was part bar, part dining area, with the bar to the right and dining tables in the center. At the farthest end, there was a table with buffet-style food warmers, and the object of her desire: a coffee pot. A wave of relief fell over her so strongly that she was was able to ignore the lingering looks from the other Black Dragon agents as she crossed the room. There was a stack of clean mugs perched next to the coffee pot, so she grabbed one and poured herself a cup. She reached for the cream and tried to add some to the steaming mug, only to discover the container was empty. With a frown, she examined the room and saw a door leading back to the kitchen. She approached, empty container in hand, and knocked on the door.
After a moment, the door whipped open, revealing a short woman with striking blue eyes and salt and pepper hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing a chef's coat.
She eyed Echo suspiciously, “Who the fuck are you?”
“My name is Echo. Do you have more cream?”
She huffed. “Echo, huh? Yeah, let me grab you some.”
The woman took the empty container from Echo's hand, disappeared into the back room, and soon reappeared with a carton of half and half.
“I'm Agnes,” she said, handing the carton over.
“Agnes,” Echo repeated, “Thank you.”
Agnes gave her a second suspicious look, complete with a raised eyebrow, and then she vanished behind the door once more.
Echo finished making her cup of coffee, promptly chugged half of it, and poured herself more. Mug in hand, she made her way down to the cold basement once more, seeking the solace of her new room. Once the door was closed and locked behind her, she sank into the desk chair, cradling the coffee in her hands like it was the only thing anchoring her to the earth.
Reality was careening towards her as she stared at her coffee mug: She was now part of an international crime syndicate. Job duties included: cybersecurity, logistics, torture and dismemberment, and murder.
Her CV had taken an interesting turn, to say the least.
Desperately, she wanted to make light of her situation to comfort herself, to poke fun at the Man in the Iron Mask, the Australian Terminator and goddamn Tombstone upstairs. Was this a mercenary group or a nineties video store?
I'm not even supposed to be here today.
She wanted to laugh, she really did. But she couldn't. She was too busy realizing her life as she knew it 36 hours ago no longer existed. The humor wasn't going to work this time.
This was her life now.
She was Echo, a member of the Black Dragon. And that's all she'd ever be again.
Every inch of the Black Dragon network, every port, every backdoor, every possible penetration point or weakness had been combed over and corrected.
Echo couldn't remember how long she'd been awake or how many cups of coffee she had, but she knew that no one was infiltrating their network or databases any time soon.
And she knew Kano was happy. That's all that really mattered.
Now, she just wanted to sleep, but she couldn't. Not until she cleaned out what was now her bedroom.
She checked her watch. It was one in the afternoon on Saturday, which meant she had been awake for two days. One heavy sigh later, she made her way upstairs. There were multiple storage rooms in the main hall of the base, and surely, there had to be cleaning products somewhere in one of those rooms. They had a kitchen, after all, so at the very least there had to be some sort of spray cleaner and some trash bags. She debated just asking Agnes for the items, but she was always busy and Echo didn't feel like interrupting her. Plus, she needed to know where things were.
Crossing the main room of the base, she made her way back to that long hallway and approached the first door. After shoving the door open, she saw the room was filled ceiling high with those tall metal shelves every suburban Dad has in their garage. The shelves were, to put it simply, a fucking disaster, and Echo felt pain deep in her soul at the sight of them.
There was stuff everywhere. Things piled on top of each other. Boxes ripped open haphazardly. She was pretty sure there were bullets scattered on the floor in the corner.
This...
This would not do.
She added another item to her to-do list.
Regardless of the condition of the storage room, the search began, with Echo peering into boxes and shifting things this way and that. It took a little while, but all the bottom and middle shelves were thoroughly looked over and there was not a single trash bag or cleaner to be found. Hands on her hips, Echo stared up at the highest shelves and scanned them, hoping she could at least see something. In the corner, she could swear she saw the bright yellow of a lemon Clorox bottle. She pursed her lips and glanced around the room.
No step-stool or ladder. Of course.
Climbing the shelves wasn't safe in the slightest. Nothing would endear her to Kano more than falling and breaking something during her first week on the job. As she was contemplating her options, the sound of heavy boot-steps grew near. Echo slipped behind the shelves, keeping herself hidden until she could see who it was.
The man who entered was tall and muscular. Taller than Kano, even. He had olive skin and shiny black hair piled into a bun on the crown of his head. He wore a headband and a mask with a distinct skull pattern on it, but otherwise dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt. Echo recognized him. He was one of the people in the loading bay when Kano introduced her to the crew. She watched as he crouched down and began rummaging in a box, pulling out four blocks of what looked like modeling clay.
Echo slowly emerged from her hiding spot and cleared her throat. The man looked up at her, startled, as she approached him.
“Excuse me. My apologies. Would you be willing to help me with something?”
“Sure.” The man stood up, and for the first time in her life, Echo truly understood the meaning of the word “loomed.” He towered over her. As he stared down at her, Echo noticed his eyes were two different colors. One was black, the other was amber and accented by a scar that started above his brow and disappeared into the black fabric of his mask.
“Can...can you reach that yellow bottle up there?” She pointed to the Clorox bottle.
“I can,” he said, placing the four blocks of clay on a shelf for a moment. He strode over the corner, reached up and grabbed the yellow bottle with ease, then handed it to her.
“Thank you so much. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. You're Echo, yes?”
“Yes. I am. And you are?”
The man extended his hand to her. “Alexander Demir. It's nice to meet you, Echo.”
The formality confused her. None of the other Black Dragon members acted like that. Additionally, the more he spoke, the more she realized he had a melodic accent that she'd never heard before.
She took his hand, finding a firm, but gentle handshake, and responded in kind, “It's nice to meet you, Alexander.”
He smiled, although she couldn't quite see it beneath his mask. The upward swell of his cheeks peeking from the fabric gave it away. “Do you need anything else?”
“You wouldn't happen to know where they keep the trash bags, do you?”
“Agnes might have some in the kitchen.”
“I don't want to bother her. She seems rather busy.”
“It's alright, I'll ask for you. Come on.” Alex gestured for her to follow him, and so she did, Clorox bottle in tow.
They traveled back through the main loading bay, back to the mess hall, where a few BD members finished their meals and chatted. Alex knocked on the main kitchen door, and Agnes popped her head out of the kitchen.
“Alex, weren't you just fuckin' here?”
“Hello, Nessie. Do you have any trash bags? Echo needs some.”
Agnes looked at Echo, who was practically hidden behind Alex's broad body. “What she goddamn needs is to eat something. She's been here two fuckin' days and I haven't seen her get anything but coffee.”
Alex looked down at Echo, who did not make eye contact. Agnes wasn't wrong.
“Just the bags, please,” Echo said.
“Gimme a second.” Agnes disappeared behind the door, and moments later, reappeared with a fist full of large black trash bags that she passed to Alex.
“Thank you, Nessie,” Alex said, handing the bags to Echo, “I'll see you at dinner.”
“Thank you, Agnes,” Echo murmured.
“You're eating something today,” Agnes said, and gave her a look that indicated this was not up for discussion. There was an unspoken “or else” that hung in the air.
“I suppose I will see you at dinner as well, then,” Echo replied over her shoulder, before hastily leaving with Alex. She stopped in the loading bay, eyeing the stairwell, and when Alex didn't hear her footsteps, he turned to look at her.
“Alexander. Thank you again for your help. I really appreciate it.”
“It's no problem. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
The more time she spent with Alex, the less afraid she felt. “I will. The same for you as well. I place orders every Tuesday.”
Alex nodded, and waved as he made his way back to the storage room to retrieve his C4. “See you at dinner. Unless you want Nessie to find you.”
“See you at dinner.” Echo bowed slightly, and then went back downstairs to her room.
There was a lot of cleaning to be done. And then hopefully, she could sleep. After dinner, of course.
Pairings: None! Just FRIENDSHIP between Echo & Kabal.
Warnings: None. Mention of Kabal's accident?
Word count: 970
Summary: Kabal has a bad night and then things get weird.
Author's Note: I originally posted this story in July of this year as a stand-alone because I loved it so much, but it's technically Session 4. I just posted Session 3.5, so go read that if you haven't.
------
It was another one of those nights. Waking up overheated and panicking. Long, ragged breaths through his respirator.
Fucking nightmares again. Ugh.
Kabal rolled out of bed, resigned to the fact that once again, he was going to be awake at some ungodly hour because his stupid brain wouldn't stop punishing him.
With a deep, frustrated grunt, he tossed on sweatpants, a hoodie, and his boots, carefully secured his oxygen tank in its holster, and went up to the roof of the Black Dragon compound.
The cold night air always felt good to him. The burns had royally fucked up his ability to regulate his body temperature, so he preferred cold whenever he could get it. And tonight was a perfect autumn night, in his opinion. The air was cool and crisp, the stars were out, bright and twinkling, while the moon sat nearly full and heavy in the sky.
Boots smacking on the concrete, he walked around the roof, stretching his arms above his head to shake off the vivid memories of Kintaro, fire, and the scent of his burning flesh. Some days it was easier than others to shake the memories. Enough walking and stargazing would take care of it eventually.
God, he really missed Stryker. He started wondering what his old partner was up to these days, probably got a promotion or something, but his fond wondering was interrupted when he spotted a pair of legs sticking out from behind one of the vents. He stopped and stared.
Shit, had someone brought a body up here? Why would anyone bring a body up here?
He zipped over to the legs, a blur of violet behind him, only to discover Echo, of all people, sitting there instead of a corpse.
She froze at the sight of his boots. Her eyes trailed up his body, and then settled on his masked face, wide-eyed with surprise. Clearly, she was not expecting to see anyone here.
She had headphones on. They must've blocked out his footsteps, he realized. Then he realized what the headphones were connected to.
“Is...is that a Gameboy?”
She went stone-faced. Not breaking eye contact, she slipped the Gameboy underneath her sweater. “No. It's not. And you never saw me here.”
Kabal smirked underneath his mask. “That was totally a Gameboy.”
“You saw nothing, Kabal.”
Oh, this was too good. He was going to have fun with this. “What were you playing?”
“Nothing. You saw nothing. I was merely admiring the stars.”
He crossed his arms and sighed dramatically. “Come on. I won't tell anybody. Promise.”
She stared at him, eyes narrowed. He stared back. At least she thought he did. It's hard to win a staring contest with a guy in a mask.
She exhaled through her nose, defeated. “If you must know, I was playing Tetris.” She pulled the Gameboy out from under her sweater, disconnected the headphones, and held it up.
“Can I see?” He plucked it from her hand and sank down onto the concrete next to her, careful to leave space between them. The Gameboy was one of those clear purple versions where you could see all the little components inside. “Do you have other games? Not a big fan of Tetris.”
Another sigh, bordering on a groan. “Yes.” She reached beside her, producing a black pencil case littered with gold star patterns that she held out to him. “Here.”
He snatched it out of her hand and opened it, “Oh man! You have all the good shit.” Elated, he picked through the cartridges like a kid on Christmas morning, the plastic clacking around in his hands.
As he parsed her collection, he could sense she was not happy at all. “Look,” he began with a huff, “I won't tell anyone about this. But you have to let me play sometimes. That's the deal.”
“You can't be serious.” She said, an eyebrow raised.
“I would never joke about video games.”
Echo weighed her options, head moving side to side as she did, and then murmured, “I also have a Gamecube, if that helps pay for your silence.”
He went completely still, and then turned to her slowly. “...do you...have Smash Bros. Melee?”
Echo blinked at him and nodded, “Yes. Yes, I do.”
Kabal extended his hand. “Deal.”
“Deal.” She shook his hand, a gentleman's agreement.
They broke the handshake and Kabal took out Tetris from the console and popped in a copy of Super Mario Land instead. He slid the button into the on position and listened for that pleasant Nintendo “bing!”
He paused for moment, a realization striking him. He turned to her, suddenly curious, “What are you doing up at this hour anyway?”
There was no point in lying, Echo decided. Kabal already knew too much. He had poked a giant, Gameboy-shaped hole in her carefully constructed facade and there was no going back now.
“I have nightmares sometimes.” She admitted. “You?”
“Nightmares.” He admitted in return.
“Kano should really start paying for a company therapist.”
“Shit, probably, yeah.”
Kabal settled back against the vent, getting comfortable as he began to play, Echo leaning close so she could watch. They continued playing games on the roof, until the first warm fingers of sunlight clutched the horizon. Knowing others would soon be awake in the compound, their little gaming session came to an end. Echo became paranoid about anyone seeing her, so Kabal walked her back to her room with the games and Gameboy hidden in his hoodie. They parted ways, and Kabal told her he would see her later in the week to whip her ass at Smash Bros.
“Prepare yourself. I main Mr. Game and Watch.” She said, as she began closing the door.
“God, you're the worst.” He gave an exaggerated, disgusted groan.
