[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/KeAjc2u.png[/img][/center]
[center][sup]The Road --> Heckin' Miami[/sup][/center]
[color=#F3128D]"Noooo, Jaaaaws,"[/color] Mariah groaned in the spaced-out tone of someone with a concussion, [color=#F3128D]"Not my pickle."[/color] An unmistakably apathetic edge was to her voice. There she was, in the parking lot of a gas station, handful of scratch off tickets, as a ghost dinosaur ate her pickle. So it went without saying that, for the rest of the trip, she went ahead and sulked about it, you know, a whole two seconds before she went to sleep again.

 It was only when the vehicle rolled to a stop, after they arrived in Miami, that she actually woke up again. While of course, now would have been the time to actually asked what the fuck happened, Mariah instead exited the vehicle, immediately recognized her surroundings, then decided it was probably time to leave. She didn't even entertain the thought of going into the hotel. In fact, she made it clear that she was [i]not[/i] going to stay in this particular hotel, with an off hand remark about finding days old condoms underneath the pillows on  more than one occasion. 

[color=#F3128D]"I got a apartment near here anyway, sorta kinda,"[/color] she finished, sounding very energetic, [color=#F3128D]"So I'mma see yall in the mornin' or whateva."[/color] And of course, she barely waited for any sort of response before sauntering off into the night.

She took in a deep breath-- with it came the acrid scent of salt, sweet barbecue, and drunken piss on the humid Florida breeze-- Ah, Miami. [b][i]MIAMI![/i][/b]  

It felt good to be on familiar turf again. As she walked down the street, headed to a familiar Bodega, Mariah took her phone out, dialed a number, and immediately received an answer. [color=#F3128D]"Baybeee,"[/color] Mariah shouted into the phone excitedly, [color=#F3128D]"I'm back in town, slide me on the strip tonight! The Mainline just pulled in, sis!"[/color] She snatched up a bagged pickle, went to the cash register to cash in a few of her lottery tickets, and practically fucking skipped out of the shop, continuing her conversation on the phone in RAPID Spanish.

 Not only was she about to get into drag for the rest of the night, but she definitely was not going to sleep until probably seven am the next day. All that was left to do was round up her boys and hit the town. So all night she spent out, performing and socializing, running the streets as she usually did, and it was well past noon by the time she woke up the next day. 

She awoke atop the heap of blankets and pillows and fluff, sprawled atop the mattress on the floor, that she called a bed. Sounds of of not so muffled voices drifted to her through her slightly ajar door--  which could only be kept closed by wedging a sock between the frame and the door itself. This sacred duty had been neglected by Drunk Mariah-- damn her. Any time that happened she always ended up waking to the sound of Tory's shouted conversation, because he simply didn't possess an inside voice, and Maxwell bordering on an argument with him-- thus was her current situation.

 Groaning, Mariah grabbed one of her blankets and wrapped it around her shoulders, then proceeded toward the dining-room-kitchen-living-room-Max-bedroom-space-thing-- there was probably a word for it but who cares?

[color=#C2A7AF]"--No, what I'm tellin' you's that's dumb. Real dumb. Dumber than ya usual brand of dumb,"[/color] Maxwell was saying, [color=#C2A7AF]"You gon' hunt a whole drug ring by yaself? Dumb."[/color]
 [color=#CBABCB]"Ah, fuck you, ah yeah, ya, fucking you fuck no,"[/color] Tory retorted, [color=#CBABCB]"No is not dumb you fuck."[/color]
[color=#F3128D]"Where my--"[/color] but Mariah didn't have to finish the question, as Max slid her phone across their dining/card table. He went on bickering with Tory as Mariah scrolled through pictures and messages from last night silently. At the message from Claudette, which came twenty minutes ago, Mariah grunted, then put her phone down. As she turned away, Max piped up, [color=#C2A7AF]"What's the plan today?"[/color] 
Sucking his teeth loudly, Tory mumbled, [color=#CBABCB]"Changin' subject stupid fuck."[/color] Usually, that would at least get Max's attention, but he was instead staring at Mariah-- in a way that vaguely reminded her of suspicious cops.

Mariah pulled her blanket closer, mumbling, [color=#F3128D]"Mall?"[/color]
[color=#C2A7AF]"I'm comin',"[/color] Maxwell told her in a tone that was equal parts pleasant and insistent. She squinted at Max as Tory huffed a bunch of curses under his breath. With a shrug, Mariah turned to go get ready.
[color=#CBABCB]"--AYE! You goin to them stupid new friends you have?"[/color]
She halted, then stared over her shoulder at Tory with an arched brow.
[color=#CBABCB]"TELL THAT CROISSANT FUCK I SAY SHE A FUCK!"[/color]