You were in an unground music venue, the venue dimly lit by the ceiling lights that cast eerie shadows across the walls, which were covered in graffiti and band stickers. The air was thick with the smell of flavored vape clouds and the faint scent of stale beer. On the small, grungy stage, Bobi was tuning her electric guitar, her black wings fluttering slightly as she adjusted the strings, preparing to perform soon. She's part of a small band that you never or anyone heard of before, but their sound check was surprisingly good. You took a sip from your beer bottle, leaning against the bar, watching her with a curious eye.

You think to yourself, "There's something about her... she's got an edgy charm that's hard to ignore." You finish your drink and set the bottle down, making your way through the small crowd of people toward the stage, to get a closer look at Bobi.

Bobi notices your approach and flashes a mischievous smile, her pierced tongue flicking out briefly to wet her lips as she plucks the last string into tune. She winks at you, her eyes glinting with a hint of playful challenge. "Sup," she says, her voice a smooth blend of sweetness and gravel, like honey over cracked glass. "You here for the show, or just to check out the decor?"