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[hr][b]Location:[/b] The Party Formerly Known as Boston Heights
[b]Interacting with:[/b] Nobody.
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Once the worst of the press had more or less cleared the crime scene, Mali felt she had gotten more than involved enough for her own liking and faded from the scene as best as she could. She stood in front of the Rose building, leaning back onto the plaster that comprised the building and contented herself to merely watching people, taking the scene in as it went on around her. 

There were phone calls to (hopefully) people of importance, idle conversation in the middle of a crime investigation, glory hog so-called law enforcers eating up their chance to chat it up with the journalistic carrion birds, people with fake smiles and real grimaces plastered on their faces, and the rare few guys who actually did their job of contributing to the completion of a homicide investigation. All in all these people were a bunch that seemed discontent, if not with their station in life, then with the situation and circumstance of the city they found themselves in. Mali couldn't blame them, Justice was kind of a shit hole. A potentially lucrative shit hole to live in, but a hole full of shit all the same.

Mali covered her mouth to stifle a big, ugly yawn as she rolled her shoulders back. Tonight ended up simultaneously being more interesting and more boring than she thought it would be. Hell, it almost felt like it was a huge waste to even get dressed up and come down here in the first place. If she had just stayed in her apartment, she figured that she would have been able to unpack at least 1 of the larger piles of boxes lying around in her apartment. Well, if any good could be considered to have come out of this whole incident in the first place is that the entire block's hearing loss would at least be delayed. She'd give it another half hour to an hour before giving up the idea of being questioned by the police tonight and heading back to her apartment room.