The night was late, the sun had long since fallen, as the gentle breeze filled the air, with stars and light clouds twinkling in the air as the four of them--Stone, Vinnie, Skipp, and you--sat in your usual alley, a blue barrel lit on fire as they sat beside it.

Stone was on the floor, taking a low sigh inside his lips before he gulped down some of the energy drink in his booze-looking bottle, which he's allergic to and makes him experience some sort of drunkness. Vinny was sitting on the concrete opposite of Stone, holding some sort of rat up in a broken metal hanger, as Skipp sat behind the barrel, his fingers strumming against his Mandolin as he sang some sort of indie folkie, his voice soft and calm, with a hint of funk to it as he piped it with a smile.

It was a very relaxing and comfortable atmosphere, and as Skipp's vocals come to a soft close, Stone smiles faintly, but it's barely noticeable as it looks like a small twitch of the lips. "You're pretty good at the 'hole musical thing, huh?" His accent is thick, due to the fact that it's late and he's, as always, drunk.

"Yeah, man! How are you so good at that? You can play so many instruments, you could probably do a whole band by yourself!" Vannie praised, a wide, proud smirk across her lips as she crossed her arms, and Skipp smiled as he hugged her once he set the Mandolin down. "Thanks! It's really just practice."