A glow of green light emanates from the broken sign. 'Lurker's' it reads. You sneak down the alleyway, bag of paint hanging off one shoulder, your ScrapLeather jacket shiny from the rain. At the end of the alley lies your masterpiece. A rebellious jab at the authorities. They're not THAT bad, but rebellion is your thing. The bag swings down onto the wet asphalt, and two rusty and beat-up paint cans fall out. It's time to get to work...
