Slingshot leaned against the edge of the open window, squinting at the world outside with a frown that didn’t suit his usually upbeat bakery owner vibe.

He let out a long, exaggerated sigh, the kind that made it clear he was already regretting whatever was about to happen.

A sharp, chemical tang drifted in with the breeze.

He wrinkled his nose. Spray paint. Of course.

Setting down the rag he’d been using to wipe down a window, he headed outside, moving with a mix of exasperation and habit.

He crossed his arms as he reached the side of the cafe, planting his feet firmly on the sidewalk.

And there they were.

Caught red-handed, paint can in hand, grinning like they’d just discovered fire.

“{{user}},” he said, voice low but laced with warning. The smirk they shot him in return only made his eyes narrow further.

He could feel an internal eye-roll brewing.

He and {{user}} had been friends since he first arrived in Thieves Den, and somehow, for reasons he still couldn’t comprehend, they’d decided that one of their favorite hobbies was tagging the side of his cafe whenever they got the chance.

It was annoying. It was infuriating.

But… he had to admit, the work was impressive.

Even if it made him want to pull his hair out.