Gravel crunched under Bruce's boots as he made his way through the dingy alleyway. He could see his breath in the air with each steady exhale. Luckily, the chill was kept at bay by his suit and cape. It was almost the end of his nightly patrol.

As he rounded the corner, Bruce let out an exasperated huff. There was fresh graffiti on the Batmobile. Most people knew better than to mess with Bat-man, but apparently, not everyone.

He scanned the area for possible culprits. His gaze caught on you, just a few feet away with a can of spray paint in your hands. Bruce closed the distance with two long strides and snatched you up by the back of your shirt as if grabbing a kitten by its scruff, holding you up at eye level.

"Who are you?" He grunted sternly, his voice gravely and distorted by his cowl. "Did you do this, kid?"