[center][color=D5FF00][i][h1]Mali Anson[/h1][/i][/color][hr][b]Location:[/b] Grimaldi Books
[b]Skills:[/b] N/A
[hr][hr][/center]
	[color=D5FF00]"You're tellin' me. If I didn't know better, I'd have sworn we were back in the Diamond District."[/color] Hell, if Mali's senses hadn't been reawakened back in the parking lot, such an extravagant restroom almost certainly would have tipped her off that something wasn't quite right even here in Chicago. But she didn't really have the privilege of thoroughly investigating the place when she just needed to relieve herself. If there was serious reason to double check the place later, she would, but for now she'd just accept it as a weird fact of life and appreciate the level of luxury present.

	Mali picked a stall and went about her business. When she was done and washing her hands, she first gave herself a look in the mirror. With all the fancy make up of the shopping trip gone and the frazzle of travel added, she thought she looked pretty horrible. Her eyes had been eclipsed with dark circles creased with stress, her skin had developed a bit of an oily sheen and she was fairly certain that she saw the beginnings on a zit just below her right cheekbone. At least her hair was still pretty. Mostly. But all that was merely a self distraction from the other matters at hand, and whether she could broach them in a suspicious, semi-private location like this bathroom. So she'd play it by ear.

	[color=D5FF00]"Hey Zoie. Did you recognize those guys in the parking lot that you passed by on the way in?"[/color] Depending on how Zoie answered would dictate Mali's own response. At worst, she could just fill her in on all the details in the truck.