"Hooo~" One of the taxi drivers thought a bit too loudly, spotting the rather attractive figure of the Geshrin armorer from a slight distance. He instinctively zoomed off towards her, shaking his fist at the fifty or so cars going in what he perceived as the wrong direction, veering off as he came too close.
Was it going to be Zhou's lucky day? Not that it mattered, as long as it wasn't another annoying foreigner, unbathed Freespacer or capitalist fatcat sweating on his fine Delsaurian leather seats, it'd be a refreshing change. "Heee~"
There was a faint screech as his minivan-sized vehicle pulled up to the small group of marines. The window gradually dropped, revealing a Nepleslian driver that was easily in his early sixties, a very creased and aged man with trenches and creases of discoloration carved into the blocky, yet oddly fine-boned Asian features of his face. A mane of stringy white hair covered by a thick wooly Gatsby cap seemed to flutter in the wind, while his dark brown eyes were hidden behind a pair of thick, perfectly round black sunglasses. He was dressed a plain yellow shirt with green suspenders, and a pair of plain grey slacks.
"You need~ a lift?"