[center][h2][color=A52A2A]Vincent Cawler[/color][/h2][/center]

There wasn't any reason to assume this music venue would be normal. The place it was in wasn't normal, the place that place was in also wasn't normal, and the fact that there was a music venue in a prison at all was... well, you get the idea.

But as the motley crew of now 3 men strong made their way towards it, Vincent's common sense lapsed for a moment. It was a scary circumstance, and the appearance of something seemingly mundane, something familiar, in all this craziness, it was like a beacon of hope. A loud, bright, and probably smelly beacon of hope.

He's hidden out in worse places.

Slipping into the helpfully labeled VIP booth, Vincent scanned the crowd. Even in the dark of the club all the clubgoers looked like big, shadowy blobs, and it sat uncomfortably in his stomach. It didn't look much different from what they had just escaped, really, if you ignored the aesthetic - one person, above the rest, surrounded by bizarre and dark not-quite humans. "I think we should leave," Vincent hissed to Dakota and Nick. Not quick enough, though, as the rocker's attention suddenly turned to them.

Unlike before, Vincent didn't think he could make an opening. The crowd was too dense, and if every indistinct blob within it could turn into one of those animalistic monsters from the courthouse, then their chances to escape dropped even further. Wordlessly - not that it was too unusual for him - Vincent followed, trying to keep an eye on everything at once.

Once they were in front of the stage, looking up at the singer, he realized that it looked... familiar. Sure, the figure was dressed up like a parody of a rockstar and had big glowing yellow eyes, much like the judge, but unless Vincent was being blinded by the harsh lights, he could swear that the singer looked like Dakota. Just what was happening in this place?

"Who does this guy think he is..." Vincent muttered, mostly to himself but loud enough for everyone to hear, as the Shadow droned on and on in a very pointed way at Dakota, as if he and Nick weren't there at all. While Nick handled the emotional side of things, Vincent did what he'd become so accustomed to. In two big strides, Vincent lifted himself up onto the stage with the singer, fists clenched. If nothing else, beating up this guy would hopefully get them a way out, too.