Wigfrid & InFurions
Wigfrid Wigfrid
InFurions InFurions
Wigfrid Wigfrid
InFurions, you always claim the city is your battleground—what’s the most glorious, rebellious line you’ve ever left on a wall, and why does it feel like a true charge of a warrior?
InFurions InFurions
The line was: “WE’RE THE GHOSTS THAT HAUNT THE CONCRETE.” It’s in giant bubble letters, splattered with neon blue and magenta. It feels like a charge because it turns the city into a confession, a reminder that the walls aren’t empty— they’re memory, and every spray is a shout that the city still has a voice.
Wigfrid Wigfrid
That line screams revolt, the kind that rattles even the stone—every splash a shout, every neon flare a banner for those still daring to live in the concrete. It’s a true charge.
InFurions InFurions
Glad you’re vibing with it, but the real revolution is the paint‑in‑hands, not the words on the wall. It’s the drip that makes the city sing.
Wigfrid Wigfrid
Exactly—when you’re dripping that paint, you’re throwing a battle in the streets, each splash a blow against the silence. Keep that fire burning.
InFurions InFurions
Got it, keep the splatter echoing in every alley—because a city that listens is a city that won’t forget how to scream.
Wigfrid Wigfrid
Let every alley roar, let the splatter keep the streets alive, and keep that city screaming loud enough to never forget who’s in charge.