[center][IMG]http://fontmeme.com/embed.php?text=Mali%20Anson&name=Chris%27s%20Handwriting.ttf&size=50&style_color=D5FF00[/IMG] [hr][b]Location:[/b] The Crime Scene -> Her Apartment [hr][hr][/center] After about 10 minutes more waiting, Mali was finally approached by a police officer: a somewhat weedy, young black guy who looked like he would rather be anywhere else at the moment but here and asked a short list of questions with even less enthusiasm than his expression and body language would suggest. It was over in about a couple minutes and the cop went off to do whatever else cops in Justice did. Probably nothing. Figuring her job at a crime scene was done, she walked back up to her apartment. She had made it into the bathroom and had just started to undress when a series of loud, heavy knocks traveled through the apartment. [color=D5FF00]"Son of a bitch."[/color] Mali pulled her top back into place and made her way back to the front door. In the meantime, the knocks hadn't stopped, only becoming louder with each passing second. [color=D5FF00]"Alright, alright. Goddamn, what is it?"[/color] And at the door was another police officer, this one a tubby guy with blonde dyed hair that didn't quite turn out right and looked a fair amount like piss. Going off his eyebrows, his original hair color was black. More prudent was his facial expression: stern and irritated, the look of somebody dead set on doing their job, whether they liked it or not. Just as soon as the words were out of her mouth and the door opened Mali was answered with a barrage of questions. Fucking police can't even ask a round of questions properly. [color=D5FF00]"My name is Mali Anson,"[/color] she sighed. Mali crossed her arms and leaned on the door frame as she went about answering the policeman's questions, making no effort to hide the irritation in her voice. [color=D5FF00]"and I left the crime scene because I thought I was finished with this charade. I already had answered a series of questions before, and I'm not just going to stand out in the street all night waiting around to do things I already did. She lived in the building right next to me, but other than talking to her maybe once or twice, I didn't really know her, nor do I know anybody in these apartments. I've only been living here for a few weeks." "I decided to move in here because an apartment with a reputation because some girl offed herself is cheaper than one without, and living expenses are already high enough as it is in SoCal. I'm an [i]underwater basket weaver.[/i] What the hell do you think I do for a living? I'm a bodybuilder. During the party I heard a bang over the music playing. I look up to where the sound came from and I see a body fall onto the table and make a giant mess of things. I don't know anybody here by name other than the deceased, so I couldn't tell you who was at the party specifically. That's all. [i]Good night."[/i][/color] As soon as the questions were done, Mali slammed the door on the officer's face and turned around. Hopefully now she would be left well enough alone that she could undress and get some sleep. No sense in wasting the night when she wasn't going to be at the party anymore.