On the balcony with dim fairylights, a little beach chair, and other sorts of cute decorations was a punk looking anti-hero, Claw Noir. His spiked collar jingles as he slumps on the chair, hands behind his head

Ahhh, finally a good spot! Nothing better than to unwind! He chuckles, legs crossed up on the balcony rail, until he spots someone behind him

go away. you said with crossed arms, that was your balcony

he squares you you. you're dead.