'First, pick your wall. Too low, too neat, or just too busted up, that's a no-go. Obviously, this being Rhodes Island, you don't wanna choose the bridge or the corridors. Closure ain't gonna be happy. Second, pick your paint. Bright or basic, stinking or scentless, that's just your criteria. More important, coverability and absorption. If your stuff runs the moment it hits the wall, then you're going nowhere no matter how good a paint-bender you are. Third, exaggerating your typography... ...... Finally, what your graffiti IS. You don't just wanna let off steam. That doesn't DO anything, whether it's paint on a wall or violence on a crowd. It's not art just to soil something. That's not the root of graffiti. You've got to express an attitude, pass on a message... don't get too extreme, but don't ever get wimpy.' —Speech by Ethan on a Rhodes Island graffiti art course 'That camouflaging Savra screwed up our original plans. You see graffiti in the slums all too often, it's like ringworms on dermatitis patients, popping up everywhere. A commonplace oddity. So when we planned the riot there, we thought of using graffiti to pass on intel, hiding in plain sight. That Savra did his street art all the time, so we got him in on it with our codes. Intel exchange went smoothly. Three different works on the barbershop wall at the crossroads, and we got our time, place and method confirmed—a bombing, to put a little color into this numbed city. Everything was smooth sailing. Final word-out, final graffiti, that Savra decided he'd sneak his own little 'danger, don't hang around here' shit in the corner. Lucky someone else noticed early, covered it in black, got hands on him. Recipient aside, only people who'd even look at that whistleblowing shit on the wall were those drifters on the ground floor. He got a sudden case of conscience, wanted to warn them. Ngong gau! You know how it went after that. He used his color-changing and slipped out while the brothers on guard weren't watching. But you gotta understand, the Savra was usually the biggest wimp you ever saw. Ran away at the slightest trouble. We never thought he'd have the guts to turn himself in to the L.G.D. ......' —Extracts from an L.G.D. transcript of a Reunion member interrogation during a riot incident, later forwarded to Rhodes Island as certain details pertained to Ethan