[center][color=D5FF00][i][h1]Mali Anson[/h1][/i][/color][hr][b]Location:[/b] Club Afterdark
[b]Skills:[/b] Driving (Cars)
[hr][hr][/center]
	"Oh I'm sorry,"[/color] Mali said in response to Relic's assertion that Zoie and her were 'fucked up.' [color=D5FF00]"I should have taken your sensibilities into account when picking the radio station. Would you have preferred Industrial, Noise or No Wave?"[/color] While none of these genres were "her thing," she could bear listening to them if she had to, but she certainly wouldn't want to listen to that kind of experimental music while on a drive. It was the kind of thing you had to be in a certain mood for. And perhaps she was hedging her bets, but Mali had purposefully picked out genres she highly doubted would be found anywhere on a radio, even in California.

	But her joking went out the window as soon as she saw the smoke and heard the command. Her expression harden, the steering wheel was firmly gripped with both hands (as best as a hand covered in plaster can grip) and the pedal got its figurative shit kicked in. She was just glad that since they were outside the city now they didn't have to worry about traffic getting in the way. She just hoped that they wouldn't get pulled over by a cop before she could get to the house. Oh, getting pulled over would be bad. Really bad. Knowing Zoie she might insist on not pulling over. That would lead to a high speed chase, and she had already had more than enough legal problems already.