Living as a vagabond half the time still had Regan marveling at just how well stocked Sing Sing was. Part of him expected the luxuries to vanish one day, because in reality they would run out of stuff. Still, might as well enjoy ‘em while you’ve got ‘em right?
He wouldn’t mourn the loss of spray paint, though. That shit could disappear at any point now. Granted the artists around the place might miss the stuff he was sure, but there were natural ways to make paint, right?
It was hard not to raise his eyebrows when Toby admitted to having spent the better part of the last couple of days attempting to remove the message from his wall. “It took you a couple of days to decide that?” He asked, going along with the joke, even if he wasn’t entirely certain this was a subject he was comfortable joking about. Someone was targeting people in the compound and that didn’t sit well with Regan, not at all.
The friendly smile slipped from his features when Toby admitted that his sister and to a lesser extent his daughter were both having a tough time dealing with the message that had been sprayed on their wall. “Sorry man, you should have to deal with this shit.” Nobody should, but he felt like it was really fucking low to go after children – which was essentially what this spray-painting idiot had done. “That just seems to be our damn luck around here,” he replied with a shrug. “Worse comes to worse you could always paint over it.” And pray that the idiot didn’t decide to christen the new canvas with another message.
“Would you believe I’m here for essentially the same reason?” Someone had to get rid of the new message after all. “The fucking idiot put up a new message, one that’s either aimed at Zach or Evan, or maybe both of them.” Regan leaned back against the doorframe as he spoke, surveying the various options for cleaning supplies. Part of him wondered if Toby would be able to pick up on his true reason for focusing so heavily on the spraypainted messages; that he was using them as a distraction from his own issues.