That Meddling Meddler

[on_repeat]

WHO: Echo et AL
WHERE: Various about The Hero City
WHAT: Normal moments, action moments, normal action? Whatever happens in between the bigger events.
WHEN: May?
WARNINGS: N/A?

-----

Every morning, Echo woke up. Every morning, he answered his door, leaning against the frame before looking down.

"We need to stop doing this."

The orange tabby meowed, pressing against the man's legs to slink past him and the threshold. And after watching the cat take over his apartment yet again, he sighed, bending forward to grab the newspaper that came with it.

* * *

Place An Order

Because even in a city full of Superheroes, folks still needed saving...

...From exaggerated hunger pangs.

Ramen, hero sandwiches, pad thai – whatever it was, Echo was out there, picking up orders and delivering them to the awaiting customers in need of feeding.

"GrubDash!"


On The Way

There were plenty of times he was there outside of making an online food delivery.

Not every single event could be taken care of within twenty-four hours by one person, of course. That would be ridiculous. Echo chose what was realistically doable with the constraints he had to work with, which included being mostly normal as opposed to being someone with actual superpowers.

Anything within the lower to middle tier, really, scripted and unscripted. The latter at least didn't involve reading tomorrow's newspaper articles ahead of schedule.

He knew some things weren't fixable. But if he could change an outcome for the better, he took the risk.


Wildcard

[Other ideas/suggestions/scenarios/what have you go hereeeee]

Comments

Place an Order

[in_extremis]

"Hey, come look at this," the guy on the other side of the door greeted, taking both the box of donuts and Echo's hand to lead him through the room. It had been a normal address on paper, but upon approach the building was obviously abnormal; what might have been a lively apartment complex not long ago had been cordoned off at some point, which had been wilfully ignored by the local population judging by the state of the torn yellow tape and battered open doors. Not that the doors mattered very much. There was a very large hole scraped into the side of the building, like something had crashed down onto it from the sky and left the apartments within open to the air, pipes leaking sorrowfully and abandoned laundry fluttering in the city breeze.

The delivery was still called to a specific unit in the building, looking largely intact if a little ransacked. The guy who had placed the order didn't look like he belonged there by any means, obviously expensively dressed and meticulously styled, and definitely Tony Stark who did not live in an old brick walk up. He led Echo through the mess on the floor to a slightly listing fish tank, the table it had been sat upon slouched down on one mangled leg to leave the floor puddled with a generous slosh of the green water that had been in the tank, to which Tony gestured emphatically. It did shimmer slightly, in the light that made it in through the dusty windows.

[on_repeat]

There were many questions.

Maybe less than many and more like several, in this case. Echo didn't have a chance to protest or resist being led through whatever remained of the complex, mouth mostly agape at everything in passing. He understood that yellow tape meant they weren't supposed to be here, but that warning was completely ignored.

Despite how eerie it was, the deliveryman worked his jaw, finally speaking up when they reach the door to the still-standing unit. "–So I didn't get the wrong address." Not exactly a question, but a statement that needed confirmation. Stepping over and around some of the debris, Echo found a path of flat ground to stand on to take in the wonder Stark presented in all of its green-lit glory. "A fish tank?" Incredulity was tinged with a bud of curiosity the longer he stared at it. "I mean, what am I looking at exactly? The water? Or is there something in the water...?"

His brow then arched once he looked back at the sharp-dressed man, recognition kicking in at the last minute during the doubletake. "Waitaminute– aren't you Tony Stark??"

[in_extremis]

That was several questions that Tony wasn't sure if he was meant to answer, or let the deliveryman work out socratically on his own. He had figured out Tony's name, after all, so to that one he allowed, "Yes, and you're..." because he felt at a disadvantage in this situation not having a name himself, and drew out his phone to check the GrubDash app for a name. He produced, "Daphne," which did not seem correct as he stared at his deliveryman, but he had definitely heard stranger names from stranger beings. "Hey!" he continued suddenly, with the app open in his hand and glaringly bright in the darkened room as the reminder, "Did you bring that bottle?" There weren't a lot of places delivering alcohol at this hour in the morning, but champagne seemed appropriate enough for brunch to find someone willing to indulge Tony. Donuts, of course, were the traditionally accepted pairing for an outrageously expensive champagne. Probably, somewhere.

[on_repeat]

Even in the dim lighting, Echo's gaze fell flat while squinting. "It's Echo," he frowned, only to lose the moment of correction when Tony immediately switched gears.

Champagne and donuts? Yeah, it was a strange order, but Echo made it a point to fulfill the request. There wasn't anything wrong with getting a huge tip for going above and beyond, right? "Hold on," he replied, sliding one strap of his backpack off a shoulder so that he could unzip it, producing the fancy bottle with efficiency. "Oh good, it's still in one piece."

[in_extremis]

"Right, of course," Tony accepted, flapping his phone dismissively as though this was obviously a much more normal name than Daphne. Who was that? What app was he looking at? Didn't matter, the phone had to go away so he could take the bottle with an appreciative bow, then leave Echo there contemplating the fish tank as he swept around the counter into the chaotic kitchen.

"You'll have to excuse the mess," he said conversationally as he deposited the donuts on the counter and started working the bottle open, as though Echo had just walked into the normal untidiness of a well loved apartment, or maybe an ambitious renovation project that Tony had any control over, and not the aftermath of a foundation-rocking crisis, "I don't live here. Champagne?" It wasn't really a question. Tony was hosting this brunch and his guest would be well taken care of. The cork popped loudly in the small, cluttered space, followed by a splash hitting the grimy linoleum from the bottle's journey through the city, that Tony primly stepped around to search the cupboard for an intact cup.

When he finally returned, it was with a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles mug already fizzing to the brim that he handed off to Echo, not accepting any denial, so he could toast with a quick tink of the bottle against the porcelain before taking a drink directly from it. He still carried with him the cork between his fingers, which he promptly dropped into the water remaining in the fish tank. It sunk like a stone.

[on_repeat]

The bottle gone from his grasp, Echo shouldered and readjusted the backpack, his puzzled gaze bouncing back and forth from Tony wandering into what used to be a kitchen to the fish tank.

A few more questions came to mind in addition to the ones he already had, but no real answers were forthcoming. "Well, obviously," he replied in regards to the 'I don't live here' statement. What person in their right mind would? Unless they really wanted to be off the grid while remaining in the city at the same time?

Maybe it was better not to think too hard on it. He didn't even have a chance to decline the offer when he was handed the mug of champagne, frowning at it long after the toast was made. "What's being celebrated?" He then asked casually, watching the cork plug sink in an instant. That shouldn't happen. "Shouldn't this be done among peers? Or at least in a proper setting that doesn't look like the whole building needs to be torn down?"

[in_extremis]

The nature of the celebration was a work in progress, because Tony wasn't entirely sure where this was going himself, but he waved his free hand to try to craft a good enough sounding placeholder as he thoughtfully swallowed another mouthful of champagne. The rest of Echo's questioning was all very practical, if misguided, so Tony was nodding his appreciation when he finally produced, "New friends?"

He had to clear his throat, framing up the cork at the bottom of the tank between his thumb and forefinger before figuring these questions Echo was asking were bigger than this singular mystery and dropped his hand. "That's the problem with these alien invasion things, the clean up is always tricky and there's no good standard of what to look out for. A UFO crashes through a building, and you honestly kind of hope its Skrulls, because you know what they're bringing with them. You have a really bad day and it's not just the one UFO, but some metahuman has gone supernova and there's a new kind of magic brewing up at the Starbucks, and the teams qualified to do this clean up are stretched thin," he explained, then gestured to the cork again like this was the obvious fallout of that kind of problem.

リーバース！

[deal_me_in]

The order of spicy ramen had a very familiar address, even if the name for it was 'Zavala'. Familiar would turn out to be more concerning once Echo got to the apartment number, which happened to be his own. But the door was still locked as he'd left it, however he could hear the television on within, which he would probably never ever have been so negligent as to leave on.

And then there's a meow which can only be from one cat, but hadn't the cat been left outside before he'd gone to pick up orders?

[on_repeat]

The name alone made him feel like he had seen it somewhere before. Or perhaps he heard it used once in passing conversation. Whatever it was, it was brief, gone once he saw the address for the delivery.

Short montage of a flat look, a motorcycle revving, and responsible speeding down the streets soon cut to: Echo's apartment building.

Outside of his unit, the knob rattled. A muffled voice and the faint jingling of keys scuffled against the door, the locking mechanism turning with a rough click once it was inserted. And when the door pushed open, there stood Echo with the spicy ramen, his helmet still on with the visor lifted so that his mildly annoyed expression wasn't hidden from what he saw inside.

"...Okay, what gives?"

[deal_me_in]

"Oh hey buddy, that's some nice timing right there. You're definitely getting a tip," Cayde said as he lowered his phone from checking the time.

He was sprawled across Echo's couch, the orange cat sitting on his stomach enjoying head scratches as he purred like a little motor.

[on_repeat]

Questions. He had them. But one fought its way to the front rather easily.

"How'd you even get in here?" Echo asked, not missing a beat as he shut the door behind him and marched over to set the Exo's order down on top of the secondhand coffee table.

[deal_me_in]

Carefully scooping the cat into an arm as he swung his feet over the side of the couch to sit up, Cayde looked eagerly at the bag Echo set there before he blinked up at the man. How-

"Oh!" The Exo thumbed back over his shoulder towards the window. He set the cat down beside him, giving another pat to placate him before tugging the bag open to pull out his ramen bowl. "How else is a guy supposed to get in? Did you forget the hot oil pack- oh never mind, there it is."

[on_repeat]

Brown eyes followed the thumb, narrowing slightly as he tried to access the damage to the window that was always locked and secured before every errand run.

"Well, I know where most of my recent tips are going," Echo sighed, glancing back at Cayde while the latter was busy with his meal. He finally pulled off the helmet, plunking it down on the other end of the table as he tried fix his hair. "A little warning would've be nice? Why are you here anyway?"

Another order here!

[beepbeepmotherfucker]

Instead of risking his latest rental car, Eddie placed an order for some food from his favorite Chinese place. His date got rescheduled... again... so he's got nothing better to do than stuff his face with lo mein and watch old movies on TV.

He smiles when he opens the door. "Hey, thanks. Wow, that was fast. Must not be much going on tonight for a change."

[on_repeat]

These days, 'uneventful' was a blessing in disguise. Any delivery that didn't go awry because of Things Happening meant the food would still be hot and that made for a happy customer.

"You're welcome," Echo chuckles, the visor of his helmet up as he offers Eddie's order. "An' you're telling me. Traffic wasn't a nightmare on Riggin this time."

[beepbeepmotherfucker]

Finally, someone who got it!

Eddie takes the order with a smile. "No aliens or giant mutant cats?" This coming from a man who's seen both in the past two weeks.

[on_repeat]

Solidarity, that was where it's at.

Echo briefly remembers skimming over things of that nature in the paper, however. "Not that I've seen. Does a malfunctioning elevator count?"

[beepbeepmotherfucker]

If he paid any attention to the news, he may or may not recognize Eddie as the crazy guy who yelled at one of the heroes who was fighting the alien invasion.

He laughs, "Hey, man, if that's the worst thing that happens to you today you're not doing too bad."

[on_repeat]

Spending a few hours in a windowless box listening to smooth jazz wasn't ideal, but he was glad it didn't last any longer than that. "I mean, I'll take it. It was better than anything earlier this week," Echo grins, pulling his phone out to do a quick review of where he needs to be next.

When he looks up again, he feels like he should know who Eddie is. Instead, the thought shifts, turning into: "Wait, have you...been on the news recently?"

[ezra_of_lothal]

Really it was Ezra's night to cook dinner, Ben was working late, and Ezra had been well. Busy. It's Ezra's prerogative if he wants to spend what little spare cash he has ordering dinner for them, instead, right?

He actually had been expecting the delivery guy to have such a familiar face. "Echo?" Yeah, he thinks, from what little he can distinguish, through the Force, that it's actually Echo. But it's hard to be sure - Ben, for example, both feels mostly like, but also not quite not like Obi-wan.

"Oh thank the Force."

[on_repeat]

"Yeah?"

Echo did look different; the armor he normally wore was swapped out for plainclothes, torrent blue, white, and a dark gray being distinct color scheme all throughout. Whatever Ezra could sense past the physical was faint – perhaps his imagination? – but still, there was something there.

He just looked a little puzzled by the phrase. "What now?"

[ezra_of_lothal]

"The Force?" Ezra repeats, but then his shoulders slump. He's really hoped for a second...

"But you do actually go by Echo?" he checks. But now he's thinking about it, and just saying is thoughts out loud. "Is that a nickname or your real name? Do you have a last name?"

[on_repeat]

Second time around and the Force gets no sign of recognition. Echo smiles, but it's more of a trying one as he gets asked these questions. It's not everyday the customer asked about minor personal details, but Ezra is the exception.

"Ah, yeah. An old nickname," he acknowledges with a shrug. "I kind of got used to it. Last name's Fett."

[ezra_of_lothal]

Ezra doesn't really know the full history of the clones, so he's just left wondering where that last name came from.

"Right," he says awkwardly. He tries a different tack. "Know anyone named Rex?"

[on_repeat]

"I do, actually. Rex is my brother..."

Echo couldn't ignore the twinge in the back of his mind. How specific that question is. "Why do you ask?"