[center][color=D5FF00][i][h1]Mali Anson[/h1][/i][/color][hr][b]Location:[/b] Club Afterdark [b]Skills:[/b] Driving (Cars), Knowledge (90s Hip Hop) [hr][hr][/center] Everything was going well until Mali actually got to the part where she needed to pull out onto the street. She was immediately confronted with a full street, people sitting directly in front of the way out of the alleyway, and nobody looking like they were going to give the courtesy of letting her pull in. The bodybuilder sighed as her grip tightened on the steering wheel. She had anticipated fucked traffic, but so soon? To distract herself, Mali switched on the radio. Hopefully some tunes would keep her spirits lightened enough to make it through this most vexing of tribulations. Apparently the last person who drove this thing was very intent on not listening to anything. The radio was set to AM and set far away from any working frequency. The first thing she happened to come across there was some Catholic channel. [i]Hail Mary, Mother of God.[/i] Gross, no. That was enough looking around the AM channels for anything good. She switched over to FM and surprisingly enough was on a usable channel, much to her delight it seemed to be an R&B or Hip Hop "oldies" station (the songs weren't [i]that[/i] old, were they?). And it was playing [URL=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3MkrF5fPew]her jam.[/URL] She turned that shit up, and as if the stars had decided to align in her favor for once, traffic opened up, allowing her to start making her way to Zoie's place. As she drove, she kept her good hand on the wheel, the casted, broken one for dancing/gesturing emphatically as she sang along, looking and pointing at Zoie as if the song were directed at her, but if anything, she was just because she was the closest available target. If she wasn't there, then Mali would've been singing at random passerbys and drivers.