[hr][hr][center][h1][color=ff6600]Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway[/color][/h1][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/f26313342dd138ccf044108965890512/tumblr_mez1s5irMs1rcj004o4_250.gif[/img][hr]Location: Riley's Apartment[/center][hr][hr]Tuesday rolled her eyes at Marc, grimacing a bit at Felix, as if they were partners in crime, the pair of them. She was sick and tired already of Marc's judgment. It didn't matter to her very much everything he had done for her, all of the times he came to visit her in prison. Addiction and self loathing had blinded her, and instead she flashed a winning smile at Felix, enjoying the anonymity for a brief moment. She could be [i]anyone[/i] she wanted to now, no one could tell her no. If she fancied herself to be a stripper or a rock star, Felix would be none the wiser.

Until, of course, someone pointed out she was fibbing. 

[color=ff6600]"No, it's a day of the week,"[/color] Tuesday laughed. She considered for a moment playing around with her fantasy. Perhaps she'd claim to be an undercover agent, an investigative journalist, a graphic novelist, a politician... [color=ff6600]"You should've heard what they called me after I stabbed a bitch."[/color] Winking a bit at the author, she couldn't help but hope for shock value. It was perhaps the best thing about her brief stint in solitary. It had given her credentials, almost, something to show she wasn't another trafficker addicted to their own product. 

Following Marc over reluctantly, Tuesday realized with dismay that Marc would run into Ronnie. With most people, Ronnie was able to convince them that she was the saving grace of the Deadlight District, that she wasn't Tuesday the drug smuggler, and instead Chloe, the poor misunderstood child who made a mistake years back. [color=ff6600]"If we're going to talk about the traits of an adult, I'd like a joint first,"[/color] Tuesday commented, mostly kidding. [color=ff6600]"There. That was honesty. Mark it in your notebook, won't be happening again until I die."[/color]

As Riley opened the door to the apartment, Tuesday quickly took in the scene. Some man--hopefully [i]not[/i] a cop, but she wasn't very optimistic about it--and Ronnie were already present. No sign of Riley's creepy roommate/girlfriend. But as Riley pulled her into a hug, Tuesday tried to hide her dismay. She had been actively avoiding running into her sister while in Justice. And being at her apartment, it tended to spoil that effort. It wasn't that she didn't like her sister or anything...

She just couldn't stand the looks of disappointment from her twin. [color=ff6600]"Not too shitty, yourself?"[/color]
[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#00ccff]Cecily Ashworth[/color][/h1][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/7f5e382eec1051c023227a3e128fe40d/tumblr_inline_nvc0llyX4Z1qlt39u_500.gif[/img][hr]Location: the Morgue[/center][hr][hr]Cecily frowned a bit. How had the head surgeon gotten the connections to work with Queensguard? And then, after Wallace was murdered in the [i]hospital[/i], Dr. Brinne had been sent here to replace him. She rubbed at her face a bit, and for once, she didn't admonish herself for the terrible lab practice. It was all too neat and too tidy, but too chaotic and too messy at the same time. It didn't make any sense, all of these people and all of these connections. And what sort of favor could Dr. Chang have possibly done for Queensguard? For a moment, horror gripped her. Had the favor been killing Wallace? 

[color=00ccff]"Vatican cameos,"[/color] Cecily muttered under her breath, wishing that she had stayed in Pittsburgh and gone to graduate school, instead of moving to Justice. She missed her old apartment, the safety, and knowing that her roommate, Casper, was 6'4" and could handle any danger. It had been a simpler time, when the biggest challenge in her life was reconciling conjugated pi bond systems in organic molecules. 

[i]Didn't Alicia work for Queensguard?[/i] Cecily frowned a bit, strumming her fingers. She didn't know whether or not Dr. Brinne could be trusted. Hardly anyone in Justice seemed to be innocent, and her old apartment back in Pittsburgh seemed more and more tempting. Student loan debt would have been a preferable fate to being gunned down in Justice. Pulling out her phone, Cecily's fingers flew across the keyboard, sending a text to Gregory. 

[center][color=00ccff][i]Queensguard Industries Private Air Strip. At the morgue now. ETA? -C.A.[/i][/color][/center]
[color=00ccff]"That was really nice of Dr. Chang to fly you in,"[/color] Cecily finally said, raising her eyes to meet Dr. Brinne's. [color=00ccff]"And yeah, trust me, you don't want this job. It's like George R.R. Martin is in charge of who lives and who dies. Like the last coroner? Murdered in the bloody hospital."[/color]