echo1

hhhh i’ve been really into thinking about echo lately and how his personality has gotten warped since he’s been held captive in the laboratory. i talked about some of this in person, but i’m gonna go over it to commit it to my memory ✌🏻

echo has always been really gentle and soft-spoken! he’s definitely the type who doesn’t like to attract attention or cause anyone any kind of inconvenience and the thought of it really stresses him out. there was probably something about his family or childhood that made him react to others with this kind of trepidation. in his efforts to not be a bother to others, he developed a very comforting outward persona — always saying that he’s fine and gently turning down invitations for any kind of socialization. no one really knows anything about him. he never seems to talk to anyone longer than he needs to. he goes to school full time and works as an office janitor at night to support himself. he often eats at strange hours but his one vice in terms of spoiling himself is buying sweet things at the convenience store. he usually has a little assortment of treats on him at all times. he’s often tired from a lack of sleep, so they work as little pick-me-ups throughout the day. he doesn’t have a lot of extra money after rent and school essentials, so his wardrobe is usually worn and outdated. his shoes might have holes in them. when he gets awarded with the internship at the lab he can’t believe his luck — he’ll be able to get school credit and be paid more than he’s making at his night job. he’s been working tirelessly for so long that it feels surreal.

once it becomes apparent that he likely won’t be leaving the lab and will most likely die there, echo’s “don’t worry about me” personality comes out in full force to mask everything else. he uses all of his energy and false sense of grace to comfort kilo and make him feel as protected as he can. consoling him and watching over him feels the best to him in this situation. he would much rather be able to help this person who didn’t deserve to have this happen to them... being able to pull kilo into his lap and stroke his hair until he falls asleep gives echo a stronger sense of purpose than anything else has before.

of course, he can’t protect kilo from everything. even when he tries to cover him with his body and hold him tight, the laboratory staff wrestles them apart and holds them down while they’re given daily injections. he tries to soothe him by petting the side of his face once the staff members have left their room. echo doesn’t cry once.

after some time the unknown medications they’re being forced to take via injection is causing notable changes. kilo is very obviously experiencing a growth spurt of some kind, prompting echo to be by his side as he tries to massage the cramps from his arms and legs. eventually their meals can’t keep up with echo’s rate of growth and he’s connected to a series of intravenous supplements. even when kilo eventually becomes too big to fit into his lap properly, echo never hesitates in treating him as if he was still the same small, scared boy.

the effects that echo feels are... different. it’s more of an internal sense of unease. it’s a constant bubbling of anxiety and nausea and sometimes his limbs tingle like pins and needles. eventually sharp pains roll through his abdomen and hips and he bites into his bottom lip so he doesn’t alert kilo by making noise. the injections start to make him feel light-headed and heavy. one day, he wakes up on the floor of the room and he’s wrapped up in bandages. he doesn’t remember anything, but the pain radiating from his abdomen tells him right away that he underwent some kind of surgery. the staff keep him drowsy and heavy-limbed for weeks, carting him off for several more surgeries, each more painful than the last.

he can remember bits and pieces of being examined. feeling like he’s being pulled and stretched in ways that make his stomach turn. there’s something Wrong and he has too much cotton in his brain to connect his thoughts. he feels gloves hands sinking into his aching hips, pressing thumbs hard against bone and echo feels so brittle that he may crack. everything feels wrong. it doesn’t feel like his body anymore. back in the room he shares with kilo, he curls into a ball while he waits for the medication to wear off and the lead to lift from his limbs so he can cautiously explore himself. the collection of slow healing scars burn at the slightest touch and echo makes the mistake of gasping out loud once or twice. his hips are throbbing — they feel wider somehow, though he can’t be entirely sure about anything with the medications lingering in his system. still, while he may not have been in the best shape before, he was fairly certain he hasn’t been quite so pear-shaped. the collection of new softness covers around his hips and extends to his lower abdomen. it feels foreign, but somehow doesn’t bother him as much as he initially thought.

he’d had suspicions about other parts of his anatomy being modified — he had dreams in his many medicated hazes where he could overhear scientists giving instructions and reading off vital signs. they didn’t take anything from him, but. they definitely added some things. echo wonders if that was the first big surgery — something they planted inside him. it’s hard to remember in such a heavy fog, but bits and pieces of memories and feelings are starting to rise to the surface. echo feels nauseous.

he’s never felt particularly connected to his own body nor has he ever taken a particular interest in gender or masculinity. if he had to guess, people would probably consider him to be feminine? he didn’t really care. hyper-masculinity never appealed to him, but overall this wasn’t anything he could afford to stop and ponder for too long. echo always had to be moving forward. as weeks pass, flesh heals and nerves connect and once he’s given a lucid physical examination, echo confirms that he has effectively been made intersex. more than the horror of that, however, was why they needed to do this at all. when he frantically asks this question, finally breaking face, he’s put back to sleep.

when he wakes up a final time since all of these sedations and operations have started, echo is immediately overwhelmed by pain — a throbbing ache felt all across his body and centralized at just below his stomach, where he feels something (some things?) sitting inside of him, making him feel impossibly stretched and heavy. when he tries to move and adjust his position the foreign objects move against one another and send a spike of adrenaline and nausea throughout his body. as one of his hands trembles down his body to investigate, the other clamps down over his mouth to try to restrain his horror. so that’s what they did. in the back of his mind he’d had that sick feeling. they put some kind of a womb in him, and now they’ve filled it with something.

echo’s nerves feel so sensitive as he tries to adjust his position in any way that relieves pain. he’s trying to hold back a reaction as he feels the pressure in his gut and the sharp pain driven into his hips shift and bloom all over again. he didn’t want to looked at the warped state of his body, but he did it anyway. he wished he could take it back. his hands tremor as he tries to find some way to support himself, feeling faint almost instantly. his voice dries up in his throat, forcing the most anguished and desperate cry to escape before it cracks in half. the thought of kilo hearing him is terrifying all on its own, but. echo realizes that he needs someone. he needs comfort. he’s finally been pushed to the point he can no longer pretend he’ll be okay. he’s writhing and sobbing freely, wondering if it’s fine that he finally lets someone look after him this time, because he doesn’t feel like he can handle this on his own. his brain kind of breaks down into a place where he can’t feel shame in seeking the help of another person and calls out of it. scientists behind one way glass windows take notes. echo wanted to be strong so badly, but they broke down every last line of defense he had. he doesn’t even feel like a person anymore —- he’s just some kind of receptacle.