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[hr][b]Location:[/b] Club AfterDark
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Mali took stock of the situation. A strange woman walks in with boots caked in suspicious substrate. Mali might have been living on the West Coast [i](more like Pest Coast, am I right?[/i] Mali on managed to pass her songwriting course with a C)) for less than a month, but even she knew that clay of that sort didn't show up in the SoCal area, let alone enough to cake footwear as thoroughly as that. (speaking of footwear, they reminded her of Hannah. [i]Sigh[/i]) It was late summer, but it wasn't that bright out. Hangover maybe? The staff member that just came in seemed to know who she was. 

[color=D5FF00]"Is she that friend you were waiting for?"[/color] Mali asked Relic, glancing over at the bartender who hadn't noticed her request. He was carrying a separate conversation with that other guy. Maybe she'd need to be more aggressive. [color=D5FF00]"Look at you getting acquainted with so many older women. Maybe I should ask for some pointers."[/color] She ribbed, bumping him lightly with her elbow. She was mostly joking; Relic was being a sour lime, and being stuck in a bar during off hours was downer enough. But there was a kernel of sincerity behind it, because if she actually was his contact: damn. Even in this unflattering outfit/environment she was smoking hot.