These people, all these people out here right now, these people were the smart ones. These were the people who knew when to move to to the next scavenged area, when to back down or when to stand up, and they knew what was useful and what wasn't. They formed waves, essentially. There would be no such people around, then you may see one. Possibly two. Then the next day, they all were there. The next they were gone. They were like an untrustworthy herd. A herd of paranoid sheep that were all ripe for the picking of the wolf that watched eagerly nearby. These were his kind of people.
Except when they did that.
The elongated white snout upon Echo's face rested blissfully on a flat piece of concrete, his eyes peering through his protective goggles with the same eagerness as a child on Christmas eve. More accurately, a child on Christmas Eve getting a sneak peak at
Smugglers didn't have the best reputation in these parts. They were like black cats. They could provide guidance, gifts and supplies. Your shadowed angel that followed in your footsteps and gave you just what you needed in that moment. But they were also the gleam of evil that you saw in people's eyes. They meant desperateness, despair. Your only hope that could ever so easily flutter away into the sky. Oh, their reputation wasn't a very good one.
But his was worse.
Echo was known as the spawn of demons. He was no black cat. He was a vulture. A malevolent vulture. When you saw that dreaded beak in your eye, you either were worth something, or worth nothing. Either way, Echo's presence was more than just desperation. It meant agony. And it often meant death. Because you were either picked clean, forced to start over your already blood thirsty life, or you were breathing your last, and he was ready to put his resourcefulness to good use.
Because that was what smugglers were. It was a part of their two faced appearance. They were resourceful. If you needed something, they would be your best bet. But It could cost you more than what you can afford.
With a big whiff of the aggression in his nose, Echo smiled under his bizarre mask. A fight had broken out and he had started to slowly crawl towards the scene. Fingers twitching as the gripped the rubble. A man had taken a swing at a girl, knocking her down. His demand was throw away though with that gorgeous hammer. If it weren't for the night and the reflection on his goggles, his eyes would be sparkling like fireflies. Hammer.
"But you gotta give me a kiss." He repeated tilting his head slightly, pushing himself to stand up to his full 5'4 height. He cackled, smooching under his mask. But then he jumped away playfully posing his hands in front of his mouth. "I don't have any." He cackled even louder.
"But you do."
He stiffened, glancing at the hammer. His head twitched under his shady hood. "And you do."He turned to the girl. Her hand was subtle, but not enough for trained eyes.