Rather than work on an existing wall of someone else's domain, Bay simply conjured a wall to work on in the middle of nowhere. The Thing was parked nearby, full of art supplies she conjured up for her activities.

She taped up her stencil, and did her best to control a spraycan of black paint across the white brick wall she picked as her canvas. It was bad, she couldn't put together why it was bad. She couldn't maintain a consistent pressure of the spray. Her hand was shaking as if she's never held a can like this before.

She tossed the can into the ground, "What is wrong with me!?"

Anyone who comes near Bay's domain will hear loud metal music. And I mean loud. Drums and guitars screaming at a volume no person should reasonably be within. It's a perfectly listenable rate at the edge of the yard, a yard too large for the single two floor building present on the edge of a driveway.

Then a little too loud (but not dangerous yet) at the edge of the building. The building is clearly several garages that have been renovated into other spaces, with an upper floor that’s probably a guest house based on the stairs to the upper level’s entrance. Most of the garages are closed, save one. Standing center to that open space is a small box on a pillar, the box contains several pairs of earplugs with a sign.

Take A Pair

Naturally in Bay's art studio it is so unreasonably loud it would cause harm after prolonged exposure. Bay has a canvas she's effortlessly filling with colors and shapes, paints and brushes along a table next to her easel. Swaying a little to the loud music but otherwise unbothered.

Bay regularly drives The Thing around the Horizon (where roads are available) looking for places and things to explore. So she can get herself just about anywhere if you want her to find you.