#* echo;

[gallaxians]

           calling upon @sxoulmxses, trading ♡ for a starter!

He spun the pen around his fingers, his teeth burrowed into the corner of his lip. His notebook was scribbled with notes, more incoherent than the last. “I just need you to go over that again.” His hand raises to run through his hair, the roman numeral of three imprinted on his wrist. “Can you tell me what happened the night of the robbery? What was the police response like?” 

[gallaxians]

                    @skfriends || echo and ?? 

He’s grown accustomed to following the sounds of sirens. Sometimes it leads to a story; but more often then not it’s just a dead end. Still, Echo persists. There’s police cars everywhere, swarmed outside some apartment building that had an eery silence to it. Not his typical piece of interest, yet he still hadn’t found a story for his deadline tomorrow. It could be anything; but the journalist was at a block. So, he starts to ask around. Pattering to each person and coming to a stop beside one of the few left he hadn’t spoke to left. 

“Any idea what’s going on?” He asks softly, gazing up at the apartment complex that seemed to have no life signs. No one had gone in or out, it was more than unsettling. Maybe there was something here after all. “Do you live here?”