A veil of shadow was cast over the dim city lights, air beneath his boots as his leg dangled over the fire escape railing. He flicked the butt of his cigarette over the edge, The Jester's mask was discarded somewhere behind him.

Behind him, his apartment's window sat ajar, curtains flowing in the breeze over the city sounds. Quackity had shut his eyes for a moment, head tilted back against the brick. When his attention snapped back behind him, as a sneaker none his own went clang against the stairs above.