So instead of just stepping out of my comfort zone I'm gonna hurl myself headfirst out the window and write for all three nindroids at once, whoo!
(...I actually really enjoyed writing for Echo. He's a sweetheart, 10/10 deserves better.)
I really, really want to get this fic finished soon (the next chapters for Raising Hell and DCTN are just sitting there, like 80 percent done, but hnksjghf I gotta FINISH) so hopefully I can move it along a little quicker! Once we hit the Garmadon chapters it should speed up, I've already got the majority of those written. In the meantime, here's three lovely nindroids doing their best to have a good holiday, enjoying weather I kinda wish we'd see where I live for once.
A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed as usual, I love you guys! Trying to catch up on responses as always, but shout-outs to Bob, Momomomo, Angel Star Ninja and other Guest because I can't reply to yours that way, thank you so much, you guys are wonderful!
Not for the first time since he's set foot in Ninjago, Echo once again finds himself grateful that he cannot feel the bitter cold - nor will the lowering temperatures hinder his movement as terribly anymore. (The last one a credit to Nya and Jay, of course.)
That does not mean he has to like the crystallized water that started falling last night, and has yet to stop piling itself up on every available inch of ground, though.
"I know that I am…new to this," Echo says, frowning sightly as his boot sinks a foot deep in the slushy snow. "But I find myself questioning why everyone is so excited for snow? So far, it seems only to cause problems for humans."
And mobility in general, he thinks, trying not to grimace as he stumbles clumsily through the thick drifts.
"It is a seasonal thing, I suppose," Pixal says, brushing a clump of snow from where it's gathered against the furry hood of her jacket. Echo isn't entirely sure why they're all bundled up as they are, sweaters and coats and hats that Pixal had explained to him are ugly, but must be worn anyways because Jay's mother made them for them all. It's not like they really need the shelter from the cold, though Echo must admit it's...nice, looking as colorful as the other humans.
"Just wait until you actually experience the pleasant parts of it," Zane speaks up, where he's walking effortlessly over the snow, a contrast to Echo and Pixal's frustrated wading. "When we meet back up with the others, we'll show you how to build snowmen, and have a proper snowball fight."
Echo's not quite sure why anyone would want to fight in the snow, but so far he's enjoyed the activities the other ninja get into, so he smiles and nods. "That would be nice."
Then the snow around his legs finally wins out, and Echo face-plants gracelessly into a thick layer of the cursed white matter.
"Echo!" Zane yelps, at his side in an instant, pulling him from the snow. "Are you alright?"
"It's just snow, Zane," Pixal says, stepping over and brushing some from Echo's forehead. "There. Alright?"
Echo nods, trying not to let his embarrassment show on his face. It seems that he fails, because Pixal's expression creases in sympathy.
"It's perfectly normal to have trouble walking through snow this thick," she tells him. "This area hasn't been shoveled yet, either, so it's deeper than usual. Zane is just an outlier, because he cheats."
"I do not," Zane says, miffed. "My elemental powers merely give me the ability to-"
"Yes, yes, perhaps your elemental powers would like to share this ability with the rest of us?"
Zane gives a long-suffering sigh tinged in amusement, but he brings his hands down, concentrating, and clears a neat path in the snow for them. "There," he says, standing back up. "Sufficient?"
"It'll do," Pixal says, ushering Echo onto the path. "This is why we brought Zane," she tells him. "He's a very good snow-clearer."
"And that's all?" Zane frowns.
"An argument could be made for more," Pixal smiles, linking her arm with his.
Echo watches them, noting the way Zane's eyes soften and glow, as if lighting up the way the human ninjas' eyes do when they're happy. It's fascinating, Echo muses, how human they appear.
He would like to be that way, he thinks. Eventually. If possible.
"We're almost to the store," Zane tells him, a bit apologetically. "It should be much easier to get around when we reach the inner city. Hopefully the sun will have melted the worst of it by the time we head back."
"Don't let the others hear you say that," Pixal says. "They're fairly excited about this weather."
"The store," Echo repeats, frowning a bit. "Why are we going…there, again?"
"Lloyd and Jay — the small blond one, and the loud one with freckles — will be released from the hospital tomorrow," Pixal explains, as she brushes an errant snowflake from Zane's cheek. "So we are having a celebration. Ronin and our other friends have been working hard, but they could always use a little help."
"That is not the reason you used earlier," Zane says, with a hint of amusement.
Pixal blows a short breath out. "We are with Echo now. I'm not going to insult Ronin in front of him before he has the chance to decide what he thinks for himself."
"I liked Ronin," Echo speaks up, remembering the gruff-voiced man. "He was very straight-forward. And funny."
Zane bites back a laugh at that, for some reason. "He would appreciate that, I think."
Their surroundings begin to change the further they walk into the city, the snow thinning as great buildings sprawl up around them, stretching high into the overcast sky. Echo stares up at them, wide-eyed. He'd seen the city from afar earlier, but actually walking among the giant structures is a different experience.
There are people now, too, running back and forth on the streets as they hurry to escape the cold, scarves and coats pulled tightly against them. They seem in a cheerful mood though, Echo realizes, as they stop to call greetings to the three of them, their eyes widening as they recognize Zane. There are a few that recognize Pixal as well, a young girl who points at her, shouting happily about a samurai before her mother hurries her off, sparing them a breathless thank you before escaping the cold.
It is pleasant, Echo finds, being greeted. Seeing smiles, hearing different voices. It is a strange experience, but one he thinks he likes.
"Here we are," Zane speaks up, stopping in front of a large building. Echo squints up at the sign, his processors informing him that it's a popular department store, whatever that means. "Do you have the list?"
"I don't need a list," Pixal says, as they pass through the large glass doors. "It's just decorations, anyways. This might be a good opportunity to pick up Christmas gifts, however."
"You still haven't purchased yours yet?" Zane asks.
Echo doesn't hear Pixal's response. He's too busy staring.
Loud. That's his first thought as they step fully into the store, the sudden cacophony of sounds hitting him like a crashing roll of thunder, except the thunder never stops. There are voices, more voices than he can count, all echoing throughout the giant building, mixed with electronic chiming and other sounds he doesn't recognize. It's also bright, almost too-bright, hundreds of ceiling lights and chandeliers and blinking signs filtering through his processors, almost too much to handle at once.
And then Echo is surrounded by the people, and he starts to think it might actually be too much too handle after all.
There are so many. So many different people, so many different voices, so many different colors all pressing in on him at once, passing by him at dizzying speeds, small people and tall people and loud, loud people, their voices crowding in on him until Echo can't even hear his own thoughts, and he's stuck with the dizzying feeling that he's losing hold of himself-
"Echo?" Zane's concerned voice filters through the haze. He blinks, vaguely realizing that they've come to a halt among the dizzying crowds of people, standing just aside near some of the display stands. Pixal stands on the other side of him, her eyes worried. "Are you alright?"
Echo tries to answer, but his voice processors feel as if they've rusted up again. He takes a breath. Then takes another, even while reminding himself that such a gesture is useless — he has no lungs to fill, no heart to steady, even if it feels as if his processors are racing a mile a minute, and there's a sharp tightness crushing in on him, like the silent feeling of loneliness except for more intense, more vibrant, voices and bodies and people and noise, so much noise, all pressing in at once, crowding his senses and pushing him back, back, back-
-back into a nearby stand, sending the glass case which rested on top crashing to the floor. The shattering of glass sounds like rain, and brings the same heavy, sinking feeling of uselessness that the promise of water once did. Rusted joints and helplessness. The loud voices fade out into a blur, a sound that reminds him of the roar of the ocean in a storm, crashing and merciless and-
"-focus on my voice, just my voice, alright? Echo?"
Echo gives a gasping intake of air, blinking rapidly as shapes and colors solidify again before him. He's moving, he processes almost blankly — slow, steady steps as he's guided through the doors by — Zane, that is Zane's arm around his shoulder, Zane who claims to be his brother, Zane will know what's wrong with him-
"-okay, here, just keep with me-"
Zane is pushing them back through the doors, out into the snowy, frigid air, and Echo inhales another gasping breath, the sudden quiet bringing him back to awareness a bit.
"Alright, let's — let's sit over here, is that alright?"
Zane brings them over to a quiet park, abandoned in the cold temperatures. Echo nods as he leads him over to one of the benches that line the sidewalks, just in front of a frozen fountain. Zane makes sure Echo is firmly seated, brushing fallen snow off the bench, before taking a seat next to him. It's quieter where they are, removed from the sounds of cars in the streets, and the winter winds rustle quietly through the tall trees that stretch around them.
"There," Zane says, draping his own scarf over Echo's shoulders. Echo blinks at the gesture, confused. "Better?"
Echo nods, still unable to find his voice. From the crushing feeling or the slowly-growing shame, he's not sure.
"Pixal remained back in the store," Zane continues to speak, explaining. "She'll take care of the display stand, so you don't have to worry about that."
Zane's expression shows nothing but confidence in Pixal's abilities, the same happy look Echo notices he wears whenever he speaks of her, but Echo's heart — not heart, Echo doesn't have a heart — sinks nonetheless.
He is Echo Zane, built to help others. He isn't built to ruin others' belongings in a moment of irrational weakness. He certainly isn't built to simply cause trouble for Zane and Pixal, who have been nothing but kind and good to Echo since he's known them. But here he is, causing those problems regardless, and of no help at all.
They'll send him back, he thinks, in a sharp moment of terror. Any rational argument that Echo should not feel such fear anyways is washed away in the wave of panic that he's going to lose this, that he'll be sent back to the lonely darkness of the lighthouse, away from the double that could be his brother, away from the bright happiness of Zane's family before he even has the chance to understand it-
"I'm sorry," Echo blurts out, almost desperately. "I am ashamed that I reacted like that, I-"
"Oh no, Echo, I'm the one who should be sorry," Zane says, regretfully. "I should have anticipated that. It's my fault."
"But I — it was my fault, I should not have reacted as I did-"
"You had every reason to react as you did," Zane speaks over him, firmly. "I should have seen that coming. Of course, you aren't used to atmospheres like that, I should have remembered-" Zane cuts off, shaking his head as if he's the one ashamed. "I apologize for putting you in that position. It was thoughtless of me."
Echo is utterly baffled.
"But I…" he starts, weakly. "I was the one who reacted incorrectly. I…I do not know what came over me, the feelings, I-" Echo cuts off, remembering the strange surge of fear he'd felt, the overwhelming sensation of panic. "I should not have felt that way. I'm built better, I should be better."
Zane is quiet for a minute, staring at him with an odd expression on his face. Echo notes that it's oddly pained.
"You have a right to your emotions," Zane finally speaks up, quietly. "I know it's…a strange concept, at first, but it's true."
Echo blinks. "My…emotions?"
"What you feel," Zane says, patiently. "The quiet feelings, the loud ones, the ones that seem like they'll overpower you. They are normal, I promise. There's nothing wrong with feeling other things."
Echo shifts uncomfortably, looking down at his hands. There's still that small flash of surprise when he links them, the strange feeling of waiting for rusted creaking and resistance when none ever comes.
"Why are we like this?" he finally asks. "We are — we're robots. Nindroids, or however your family puts it. Not humans."
Zane leans back, blowing his breath out quietly. "To be entirely honest, I'm not sure," he admits. "I had thought, for a long time, that it was simply the way father built us. But then Pixal…she's like us as well, and she was built by Cyrus Borg." Zane purses his lips. "I have to wonder if it's not simply inherent to all nindroids, but I don't think that's the case. Perhaps it's the way we were built. Borg cared for Pixal, as our father cared for us, and perhaps that spilled over as they built us."
"Pixal was built by Mr. Borg?" Echo asks, hesitantly. He had suspected as much, but he had hesitated asking where Pixal had come from, unsure of whether he had the right or not.
"Yes — though she claims otherwise, Pixal is a far superior nindroid than I am," Zane smiles. "The only exception was my core, which I once shared with her."
"Is that why Pixal has electrical wires for tasing people in her hand, and you do not?"
Zane gives a snorting laugh. "Do you really think Jay hasn't tried to force one of those on me?"
Echo finds himself giving a small laugh in response, and feels a flash of pleasure as the heavy feeling in his chest lightens. He takes another steadying breath, deciding he likes the feeling.
"So our…our emotions, they are…as real as the others' are?"
Zane looks at him, his eyes softening. "Jay hasn't tried to tell you the story of Pinocchio yet, has he?"
Echo frowns in confusion. "Who?"
"Good," Zane says. "Don't worry about that. I have a better story. About a nindroid who didn't realize he was a nindroid, and a bunch of stubborn ninja who dragged him into their family."
By the time Pixal messages them that she's on her way, the snow has picked up, drifting thickly down around them.
"-sorry about the story, that ended up….a bit longer than I meant it to be," Zane is saying, apologetically.
"I liked it," Echo says. "I like your family."
"I do, too," Zane smiles softly. "And they like you - Echo, whoever you decide you want that to be. Just remember that, alright? Whenever you feel too much, or feel like you shouldn't feel — it's normal. And you can always come to me."
"..alright," Echo finally says, turning everything Zane's told him over in his head. "I…it is an adjustment, all…this, but eventually, I'd like to try the store again?"
"Of course," Zane says, smiling. "When you feel you're ready. Until then, we can start with the party? There won't be as many people there, and they will all be friends."
"That sounds nice," Echo says. "I'd like that."
"Good. And Echo?" Echo turns to his brother, watching Zane's serious expression. "My family — they're yours, too."
Something in Echo's chest tightens again, but it's a different sensation this time. A little painful, perhaps, but in a pleasant way. In a way Echo likes.
He opens his own mouth to thank Zane for understanding, for explaining, for — simply being Zane, he supposes—
When a fat clump of snow smacks into his brother's head, leaving an expression of utter shock on his face.
"Ha! And I thought you claimed your reflexes had improved!" Pixal calls cheerfully, dusting snow from her gloves as she strides toward them. She grins brightly at him. "Behold the famous Ice Ninja, Echo."
Echo covers his mouth with a hand. He doesn't want to laugh, because Zane has been so kind, and Echo doesn't entirely understand why Pixal has hit him in the face with snow, but the look on his face is so funny.
Zane blinks, carefully wiping the snow from his face. Echo's laughter dies a rapid death at the smile that crosses his face. Echo is not well-versed in the instincts of the ninja, but he knows the look in Zane's eyes means nothing good.
Pixal knows it too, as she quickly grabs his hand and yanks him to his feet, dragging him across the park and into a sprint.
"Run," she gasps, through breathless laughter. "Echo, run!"
Echo glances behind him, but he's quickly forced to turn back ahead before he trips in the snow again. "Wait, why?" he asks, heart beating loudly.
"This is a snowball fight," Pixal explains. "And Zane is the Ice Ninja," she repeats her sentence from earlier. "I only managed to tag him because he was unprepared. If we do not take better ground, he'll-"
The ground beneath them suddenly freezes solid, and Pixal and Echo's cries of surprise echo through the empty park as they slip, sprawling out against the sheet of ice beneath them. Zane strides casually up to them, staring down at both of the them with the hint of a wickedly triumphant grin on his face.
"Bold move, Samurai X, bold move," he says, casually tossing a snowball from hand to hand.
Pixal makes a face at him, then sweeps her leg under his, sending Zane sprawling over them both with a yelp. Pixal bursts into laughter, which quickly turns to a shriek as Zane mashes his snowball against her face. Echo, still slightly confused at the giddy feeling welling in his chest, decides that it's a confusing feeling he likes. So he holds onto it, throwing his own head back and letting his laughter join theirs.