Cecily Ashworth
Location: the Morgue
Cecily could no longer say she was a stranger to pain. Her tattoo had been almost unbearable when she got it. Bonnie's hand had nearly been broken in Cecily's grip. When she was seventeen and broke her arm after tripping over a laptop charger, she felt like she was going to die, that that was going to be it. And when they shot her, the bullet eating into her flesh, it had been a new level of agony she previously had no word for.
The only word that sufficed was the senseless screaming that poured out of her, as Natasha fished around for the bullet. Caesar only held her down stronger in response, and while she rationally knew it was for the best, she almost wished she was dead. By the time Natasha finally removed the bullet from her, Cecily was drenched in sweat, her throat hoarse from screaming. At Natasha's question about resignation, Cecily nodded a bit, struggling slightly to talk.
"I love my job--but not enough to die for it," Cecily explained, smiling weakly. Maybe she would take a job with Caesar, if that was a possibility. But the idea of retreating to the safeness of academia was equally appealing. There'd be not bullets flying towards her in a university lab, at least. But now wasn't the time to think about that. "Not until we close this case, however."
It was time to bring in Alicia and Lorna's killer. Whatever Natasha had found out, Cecily was nearly dying to know--literally.
Iris Kingston
Location: Justice Asylum For The Criminally Insane: the Ludwig Building
As Cynthia shrugged off the straight jacket and tossed it into the trash, Iris knew that it would be correct to be afraid. Cynthia wasn't a halfway house patient, and here she was, easily brushing aside measly security measures. But she could hardly bring herself to believe in the use of straight jackets in the first place, and from what she could tell, Cynthia was mostly harmless. Her infatuations hadn't caused too much harm, from what Iris had gleaned in the files.
"She sounds quite lovely," Iris smiled encouragingly. Cynthia told her very little, but at least the woman was talking to her. If she could learn more about Cynthia's relationship with this Jenny Green, then she could perhaps help the woman to regain some more of her long lost sanity. Even now, as Cynthia tapped her fingers against the desk to mimic playing the piano, Iris held out some hope for her. "Ah, excuse-moi, Cynthia..." Iris apologized, as the phone rang.
She picked it up, listening to the tired mumblings of the clerk. Her eyes flickered to Cynthia. It would be poor practice to send her away again, only to request for her to come back. And she certainly couldn't meet with this Relic until she had gotten Cynthia sorted. "Would you ask him to wait, please? I'm with a patient," Iris replied into the phone. Once she finished talking with the clerk, she'd hang up, and return her full attention to Cynthia.
"Terribly sorry about that, Valentine," she apologized again. "What sort of things did you and--is her name Jenny?--like to do together?"