Mari, as usual, was already at the club. She never left unless something important had to be done - at least when she was her own self - and always did whatever she had to do during the days, to make sure she'd be in the club way before the doors opened and could make sure everything looked okay.<br/><br/>At the current moment, judging by her expression and the fact that she was walking with a pretty evident limp and wearing high stockings that covered her legs all the way to her knees - Mari usually kept her legs bare - it was apparently not a very nice day.<br/><br/>Despite the headache and the stabbing pain on her leg, the hostess was busy and nice as usual. When Dumas entered the club, Mari was busy with a checklist and trying to figure out why the hell her phone was simply dead. She shook it, even though she had a clear notion of how pathetic it was.<br/><br/>As Dum approached her, she stopped what she was doing and gave him the best smile she could muster under the circumstances. "Oh, hey, Dum. Good to see you up here. Lookin' nice, you know". She didn't answer his question, either out of distraction or because "I feel like shit" wasn't a proper answer. "Can I help you with anything?"