[center][color=D5FF00][i][h1]Mali Anson[/h1][/i][/color][hr][b]Location:[/b] Tinder's Place (Basement)
[b]Skills:[/b] N/A
[hr][hr][/center]
	Mali's fears about the horror movie rules still being in effect were further reinforced by the crash outside. For all she knew, it could have been a simple accident caused by the fog and haze shit that just happened to have occurred right outside (nearly 70% of accidents occur within 10 miles of home), but coincidences didn't exist, and the mundane, rational explanation was the least likely reason for the noise. No, there was something sinister still at work, but the question was how to keep going about things.

	Running straight into the danger to investigate would be the expected course of action for horror movie characters. But that's also how all the unimportant characters got killed off first and Mali certainly didn't have confidence that she would be considered important by any cosmic screenwriter setting this shit up. But on the other hand, running away immediately tended to make one easy pickings for the slasher villain until vital information is revealed about it. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

	It was around now that Adelaide slammed the phone, only further reinforcing the horror film conventions they had the misfortune of stumbling into. Mali should have just listened to her gut and turned around when she saw the smoke and fog in the distance. But, there was no helping it now, they were all stuck in this situation now. Better to go do something and maybe live than to die doing nothing. Mali moved to push herself off the ground, but when she looked down she noticed her hands glowing.

	For the second time in about 5 minutes she screamed, albeit, not nearly as loudly as when she saw the basement clown. In this case it was more out of surprise than explicit fear. There were only so many things she could handle at once. Real conspiracy theories? Sure. Ancient artifacts with hidden value coveted by said conspiracies? Why not. Silent Hill fog? Yeah. Weird haze shit? Maybe it's just allergies. Monster clown bitch? In the context of silent hill fog, barely yes. Magic bullshit on top of all this? Nah.

	[color=D5FF00]"Why are my hands glowing," [/color]she asked to nobody, expecting no answer in return.
[hr]
[hider=Roll Request]
Action Attempted: Figure out what the hell is wrong with her hands
Skills called: Perception, History
Reason for each skill:  Maybe there's something about the glowing hands beyond the obvious for her to pick up on. And although she's not consciously searching her academic background at the moment, perhaps during her research in undergrad she came across historical accounts or myths that happened to be pertinent to the situation at hand
Desired location: N/A[/hider]