The small pack spent an hour or two talking with the local Bone Gnawers, who were convened in an abandoned parking complex for the moment. It wasn't too eventful, no one seemed to know much about what was going on, although they learnt something that made Bobby's lips turn to a scowl. There was a current treaty with the local vampires. Bobby growled to himself softly, feeling sick to his stomach at the very thought. He didn't voice his feelings, but he hated vampires. More than most things. He had a particularly angry songs about that hatred, covered by a thin veil of metaphors of course. 

[color=ed1c24]"Vampires?! Really? Is that really how low the rabble is scooping?!"[/color] Bobby exclaimed furiously as the trio got back into their vehicle. His fists were clenched tightly, obviously livid. 
[color=39b54a]"Calm it, Bobby..."[/color] Jake said in a calm, level-headed manor as he started the car, driving down the road to the bar they were playing at. [color=39b54a]"I hate leaches as much as you do, but we don't always have to be at war with them. What help does mindless war ever do?"[/color]
[color=ed1c24]"It certainly make me feel better."[/color] Bobby retorted gruffly, although he made an effort to try to calm himself. [color=ed1c24]"I just wish we learnt more about what's going on here..."[/color]
[color=0072bc]"About that..."[/color] Sammy chimed in with a smirk on his face. [color=0072bc]"I actually heard about someone who apparently found a Caern somewhere in the city. They gave me their number and I said we'd check it out."[/color]
[color=ed1c24]"Alright! Nice one Sammy, now we've got something to do between shows. Give them a call after the show."[/color] Bobby replied, actually managing a smile as they turned into the parking lot behind the bar. That news definitely brightened his mood. They loaded their gear in, setting straight up on stage since they were the first band of the night. It was empty at this point, but it started to fill up quite steadily as it got closer to kick off.

Bobby looked out from backstage at the crowd before they got on stage. It had filled out quite nicely. He was pleasantly surprised, jumping on the spot a few times and stretching his arms. [color=ed1c24]"You ready boys?"[/color] He asked his brothers who were doing similar warm-ups, and both responded enthusiastically. [color=ed1c24]"Let's do this then."[/color] He raised his beer bottle, and the other two touched their bottles to his. "To Franky!" They saluted before downing their beers. Their pre-show ritual. They each cracked open another beer before enthusiastically taking the stage. Bobby grabbed the microphone, setting his beer down next to one of the on-stage speakers. [color=ed1c24]"What's up, L.A? We are Splintered from New York, hope you fuckers are ready to get rowdy!" [/color]

With a nod from Bobby, Sammy started with a slow, chuggy riff on his guitar, the beefy, distorted sound booming loudly from his amp setting the mood for Jake to come crashing in with a heavy hitting drum beat, kicking off the slow and brutal opening track, perfect to get the crowd warmed. Bobby's vocals kicked in, raw anger and emotion tearing from his vocal chords, and his passionate performance adding to the visual spectacle. Both Bobby and Sammy were wild on stage, thrashing around violently, hopefully encouraging the crowd to do the same. But they were more than anger and crazy stage presence. They had skill too. When Bobby was doing more than belting wild, angry screams into the mic, it was obvious he had a beautiful voice, though he didn't often let it show. And the musicianship delivered by the other two was more than proficient. Sammy's fingers surfed the fretboard of his guitar with accuracy, and Jake's furious and lightning fast onslaught on the drums was definitely something.