---

---

As Riley paid for her chocolate bar, she grabbed another one for Marc as well she could hear Cynthia's voice over the ear piece still talking to herself. Riley started to make her way back towards their table. Riley looked towards Marc still talking with Cecily still wondering what it was exactly that Cecily wanted to talk about. once she was there Riley slid over Marc's chocolate bar, then she started to hear Cynthia's voice sounding more and more demented just like how it was when Cynthia started beating the shit out of Atlas. Riley then started to worry about both her and Felix, the man was armed with a knife after all and Cynthia's Bat Shit Crazy mood started.

"You cant hurt her Felix!" Riley said to him hoping that he wont kill her and hopefully some of the orderlies would quickly step in to restrain Cynthia from hurting Felix or herself. Riley looked over at Marc for a moment wondering if they should actually go in there themselves.

So this was the true nature of this "killer". he smirked as he watched her engage in conversation with herself, going in really quickly, being able to talk to herself sow ell. It was highly probable there was actually another voice in her head, her mentality was broken. She would be a fun subject to write about...but it seemed she was taking a turn for the worse.

"ooh, Valentine is a person? Blond, brunnete, red head?" He grinned as he took a step back, taking the ceramic knife out and pretended not to hear Riley. "Now c'mon, no one's gonna get killed here, we'll just chat, you can make a fun work of anyone else, not me, I've got a book to publish alriiight"

---

---

Caesar was waiting on Cecily to wrap up her phone call before suggesting they head out. It never occurred to him that she was trying to speak to him. His head was obviously not in a clear spot right then. That kind of lapse in observation could get him killed. Probably others, too. He shook his head and looked up to respond to his young companion. The instant he did, the satellite phone in his hands vibrated. Another message had come in from his British associate. Strangely, it was good news.



"Lo ciento. East side of the Diamond District. Place called Valentino's. Hour, hour-thirty. Big man's meeting us there." It would take them a lot less than a hour to get there, unless traffic truly gridlocked. They might even have time to stop off at Boston Heights if they left immediately. But he doubted that there would be a need for that. Besides, Caesar would rather get there early and size their man up.



As long as they had a little time before they left, Caesar felt it might be prudent to check on his ride, make sure everything was in place and things that shouldn't be there were not. The last thing he needed was more complications that evening. He looked to Cecily and intoned in a quiet voice (seeing as she was still on the phone), "Oye niña, going to check on my trike. Back in few minutes."

Caesar was not stupid. He was acting in a manner that was observant but casual until he got outside of the building, and with his trike he was thorough, fast, and careful. Saddlebags, motor, gas tank, exposeable wiring or electronics. Tentatively, he cranked up his Harley and moved it to another location, out of sight lines from its initial location, close to the Morgue's exit and underneath the scrutiny of a security camera. Yes, he was very possibly paranoid. But many had died. This whole situation wasn't a conspiracy theory, it was a full-blown Conspiracy, period. He swiftly returned to Cecily's office/lab. Hopefully, nothing tragic had happened in the last few minutes.

---

---

---

---

---

Justice Asylum: - Marc heard the ongoing through the ear piece as he was listening to Cecily. He knew that tone and looked over towards Riley. This was not going to be good. "At this rate the hospital or the morgue," he said before tossing the phone to Riley as he sprang from his chair. What in the hell was Felix thinking? He was pushing a woman in an asylum? Maybe he should have been the one there. Sprinting towards the Asylum he ran inside, pulling his gun and his badge.

"Marc Tinder, FBI. Open the damn door," he said to the nurse at the desk.

"You think you can just..." the woman started but Marc wasn't playing. This was life and death. Pointing his side arm at her face he narrowed his eyes.

"Open the fucking door!" he spat. Marc hardly every cursed. He was reserved, kind, a gentleman. Cursing was usually something that never left his lips but every so often, it slipped. Trembling the woman hit the button and the door clicked at the sound of the "beep" - He didn't even look back as he ran through it and took the stairs, bounding up them as quickly as he could but could he get there in time?

A simple step back and a knife was nothing that was going to deter Cynthia. She had been bent on causing major damage for maximum splattering of "paint" - her favorite paint, blood. It was her true medium and she wanted it now. A lot of it. The step back caused her finger nails to miss but she was still able to take Felix down to the floor. The knife being knocked out of his hand and landing on the ground, sliding under one of the book shelves. The crayon.... It hit its mark. Driving it into his eye socket. The only good thing was that it was a dull crayon, small and thin. Being held in her fist the way it was, like a knife, it could only go so deep. Damage was being done though, that crayon went halfway through Felix's right eye before anything else could be done.

The orderlies were not watching and only turned when they heard the crash but the tumble had knocked over the desk Cynthia had been drawing on and the door was blocked. They kept shouldering it but it wasn't moving. Marc came out of the stair well, looking around as he spotted the men trying to get in and darted over to them. Cynthia was cackling, trying to push the crayon even further in but it wasn't working. Pulling it out she went to gouge his other eye but Marc was on top of things.

A firing of his side arm took out the glass window looking into the room and he jumped through, side tackling Cynthia and pinning her to the ground. Coming in behind him were the orderlies as one pushed the mess out of the way of the door so it could open and the other rushing over to Felix who's eye was torn and ripped, half hanging out of the socket.

"We need back up! Someone call 911!" the orderly over Felix yelled.

Cynthia just lay there, her face in the ground as Marc held her there. A pouty smile on her lips as she looked at her work. "Aww, I wasn't finished..." she said in a voice of child like innocence.

Cab: - Zoie chuckled and shook Mali's hand. "Ain't nothin' to be sorry about. Juniper throws most people off," she said in a light hearted voice. "Don't cha be frettin' none though. She just playful is all." Relic rolled his eyes as he adjusted his glasses.

"Yeah, real damn playful sis..."

"Well, let's be gettin' inside. Dinner almost done. Hope yous liked fried chicken and collard greens," she said before turning and walking into the house. The house was old and inside it looked like one might have imagined some plantation home would have during the Civil War. A lazy looking bassethound was sleeping by the fire place. He lifted his head just long enough to let out a very long yawn before licking his lips and settling back down.

"That's Colonel, laziest assed coon hound this side of the Mississippi," she laughed as she walked through the sitting area and into the open kitchen towards the back of the house. "Makes yerself at home, can's I get ya anything to drink? I gots spirits, some coke, sweet tea, what be to yer likin'?" she asked as she pulled out a few glasses from one of the cabinets.

Relic set his bag down next to the couch and shrugged off his hoodie, resting it over it. "Tea," he said.

"Ain't askin' ya. Yous know where shit is. Askin' yer guest," she scolded him and Relic rolled his eyes again before entering the kitchen to fix himself something to drink.

---

---

Riley looked at Marc as he tossed her back her phone quickly catching it in her hands, she looked at the phone seeing the call was still on. "Hey Cecily i'll call or text you back where we will be, something came up. Anyway i'll see you in a bit gotta go." Riley said to Cecily on the other end as she quickly hung up, feeling bad about hanging up on her roommate. Riley took out her wallet leaving the money on the counter and darted out right behind Marc following him across the street and into the asylum's waiting area. Once there Riley looked at the receptionist and then over at Marc.

It was actually pretty scary to see the man swearing and yelling the last time she saw him like this was back in Grimm. And that was because she wasn't listening to him back then at the time. But she did manage to kill Maloney back at the reunion back home. Riley remembered Marc being more of a quiet kid back in high school, and rarely ever saw the man get angry back then either but they didn't talk much back then.

"I'm with him." Riley said and ran up the stairwell shortly behind Marc, she saw the orderlies standing there behind the blocked door seeing them trying to get into the room. Riley jumped slightly when she heard Marc firing his sidearm through the glass window that led into the room. Riley stood by the entrance to the room, just as Marc managed to tackle Cynthia off of Felix getting a glimpse of the damage that Cynthia had done to Felix. Seeing his eye just hanging out of its eye socket made her cringe and look away, as one of the orderlies yelled for someone to call 911. Riley quickly took her phone and started to dial 911 and waited for a moment still staring over at the scene in front of her. Once the 911 operator picked up she started to give them the information on what had happened and where they were staying on the line with them until the paramedics arrived.

"If you say so," Mali said in response to Zoie's assertion that the goat that she'd just seen bowl over Relic was just an exuberant animal that could be paid no mind. She made a mental note to keep an eye out for the ungulate when she left the building. No assurance would assuage the persistent idea that Juniper would simply headbutt anyone that showed up who wasn't Zoie.

Walking into the house, Mali couldn't help but examine it with something of a critical eye. Much like the goat outside, Mali didn't expect a house like this to exist right outside Justice. Outside of Atlanta or Jacksonville, sure she could see this same building being around, but Justice? If this house was any indication of its owner's character, this Zoie was very odd indeed.

"Some water would be fine." Well, "some" water might have been an understatement. The heat of the summer had her feeling quite dehydrated. She felt like she could drink a whole quart of water right then and there, but that would be unsightly.

---

---

---

---

"...." Cecily tried to formulate a response, but her words failed her for a moment. She hated talking on the phone as a general rule, and right now, she felt herself pulled in two directions. Caesar had set up dinner plans for them, and here she was, attempting to schedule the FBI agent to come along. Now it seemed that he'd be coming to her place of business, potentially with a body. But he had been with Riley, hadn't he? What had her roommate gotten herself into?

Hearing Riley's voice, Cecily made the 'O.K.' hand sign at Caesar, pressing her pointer finger to her thumb. And before she had a moment to ask Riley what on earth was going on, Riley ended the call. Staring at her phone, she felt a little dumbfounded. Riley's sister had been murdered that day--and now, it seemed like someone else close to Riley was dying as well.

If this pattern kept up, they might need to stay in the morgue longer that night than she'd like. Fortunately, no one had come by yet to claim or identify bodies, so it was a bit peaceful in that respect. Tuesday's body would be picked up by Riley, she assumed, and Ronnie's as well she imagined. Notices to the next of kin hadn't even gone out yet, she reminded herself, but news always did tend to spread in Justice relatively quickly.

Putting her phone in her pocket, Cecily resolved herself to letting Caesar figure out the scheduling snafu. It was above her pay grade, and once the man returned, she'd tell him that the FBI agent may very well be coming to them--or going to the hospital.

---

---

---

---

Twirling one of her braids around her finger, Jaina let out a happy sigh. It had proven to be a perfect day so far! Her brother had canceled his visit, heading to some conference in San Diego instead. That had been a definite highlight. But no, what she found even more wonderful and exciting had been the sound of gunfire!

"Here comes a candle to light you to bed~ Here comes a chopper to chop off your head~!" Jaina recited softly to herself, before suddenly launching herself off from the chair, quite literally flipping to her feet. She grinned and looked around, as if waiting for someone to give her a score for the small trick. But no one quite seemed to be paying attention to her, instead making their way towards the commotion with all of the orderlies.

"Awww, you guys are playing without me?" Jaina asked. "That's so incredibly rude, don't'cha know?" But her beaming face didn't remain sad for long. Jaina made her way towards the source of the ruckus, from where she had heard the sound of gunfire. Perhaps one of her friends had been responsible! She could hardly imagine how someone got a gun inside of the asylum, but she didn't quite care.

All she knew was that it was going to be the best day of her life!

---

---

---

---

Iris was sipping delicately on a strawberries and crème frappucino, video chatting with her brother over in the Diamond District, when a text came in from work. There was a policy at the asylum for the patient's psychiatrist to be notified immediately if any major issues arose. And frowning deeply, Iris read the rather frantic message, giving her hardly anymore information than that Cynthia had had an episode and Iris would need to come back immediately.

"C'est quoi, Iris?" her brother asked, sitting in his office in England, thousands of miles away.

"Ce n'est pas grave, ne t'inquiète pas," Iris reassured him, putting on a fake smile, though anyone who knew her could see the stress on her face. Cynthia McMillan had just arrived at the asylum that day, and already, she seemed to be attracting more trouble than Iris could handle. It wasn't a typical day where mysterious hackers and covered up government attacks found themselves in her notes on the patients--usually not ones that appeared to actually exist.

"Iris...Dis-moi," her brother insisted, but Iris shook her head. Patient confidentiality and all that. "Je vais te téléphoner à demain." She waved goodbye to her brother, and despite his protesting, ended the call. Pocketing her phone, Iris picked up her drink and hurried outside of the Starbucks. And then cursing herself slightly for rushing and being forgetful, she pulled her phone back out and called an Uber to take her back to Justice Asylum.

He felt the adrenaline in his blood rush as he watched the girl run towards him. He was sure his stance was accurate for battling psychotics of such nature. He was ready to fight, he was sure if he could come out on top of this so-called killer, he'd have more of an opportunity for her to open up. That was the way his family did things, the weak and defeated were always more likely to give up information than the strong and victorious.

However, it looked like he had miscalculated. He let out a scream, battling her as she lunged on top of him, the crayon suddenly in his eye socket, blood pouring out of the wound. There was nothing coherent coming out of his mouth as he endured the horror being undertaken upon him. The painw as unbearable, however, he felt his luck pick up as he was still conscious.

The crayon was over his other eye now, he stared at it, his screaming turning into heavy breathing with pained whispers in them. He'd ran out of screams and was now just cursing the pain that spread through his head, the blood on his face, the eye which hung out of his face. As the gun shot rang out and the orderlies and Marc ran in, his arms fell to his side as the attendants rushed to his side.

"M-Marc, I'm sorry" He struggled out of him, the pain making it hard to focus on anything as he let out another grunt of pain. Good god, he felt the end coming in. Where had the knife gone? he had to warn Marc, the knife was still in the room. But where? he couldn't just shout out now, there'd be widespread panic in the asylum.

---

---

After what was one of the longer and less interesting shifts he'd ever pulled, Keystone noted with only mild disappointment that the outside security left without so much as an annoyed glance in his direction. He had given a fair amount of consideration about what he might do in the instance of a sudden act of aggression from these people, so much in fact that the absence of that sweet, sweet violence he had so anticipated left him at something of a loss. Maybe later he'd hit the gym and work off some of that unrealized aggression. Or maybe he'd just hit a bar in a crappy part of town and let nature take its course. Hell, even odds he'd just have his meeting with El Jefe (and guests) and return to his apartment for a warm, sudsy bath with the "25" album on repeat. Yes, that would suffice nicely.

But those plans wouldn't happen unless he made a move on them. Keystone checked his phone again to confirm the time and number of guests. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too late to get a table reserved. It's not like Valentino's was a big name restaurant - it was a neighborhood affair, popular with locals. And this wasn't a prime service night, either. But he had to admit, they had good food. It was a special place that made their own ravioli. When he got back to the Hub, Keystone punched up their number.

"Oi! Yeah, howsaboutya, umm..." rolled out his pronounced East Ender accent, "I know it's already into th' shift and whatnot, but I'm needin' a table for four on reserve list for 'bout an hour out. Got me? ...yeah. Uh huh. Right then, name of Keystone. Yeah, Keystone, just like it sounds. Uh huh. Yeah! The big soddin' git what ate up all the raviolis! Okay then, thanksya much."

Keystone ended the conversation with a thumb swipe across his device and headed into the lockers. In short order he was changed out and the equipment he borrowed from the company stored back neatly. He only had to a few minutes for a shift report before calling it a night, barring any site emergency. Then it was on to the next piece of business, courtesy of Caesar Gonzalez.

---

---

---

---

---

Justice Asylum: - All hell had broken out but Cynthia was grinning like a kid in a candy store. Her eyes darting away from the wound when she heard someone else in the room. Giggling she exclaimed, "Sorry, I just had to paint a pretty picture!" The 911 operator let Riley know that am ambulance was on the way and to keep pressure on the wound as best they could.

"Cynthia, he is a friend," Marc said quickly as he pulled back Cynthia's hand. It was reaching for another crayon. Cynthia cocked a brow and looked around. He was a friend? That didn't register with her. She knew she was crazy, that she admitted freely, but had she really let her cheese slip off her toast so much that she had forgotten someone she supposedly knew?

"Did we go to high school together?" she asked innocently. Marc sighed and shook his head as he pulled her up but kept a tight hold on her while the orderlies tried to deal with the blood and trauma.

"No sweetheart, he's a new friend..."

"Well shit, don't worry I can fix it," she said and tried to move but Marc wasn't letting her go. Marc looked over towards Felix and nodded.

"I know man, just breath and stay still," he said before leading Cynthia over to a chair and sitting her down. Shaking his head he kept a hand on her shoulder and watched her carefully. She was pouting by now and he groaned inwardly.

"Fine, I'll be good. Might want to get his knife. Yeah, he had a knife. That's right he had a knife. Why would a friend half a knife? Why does Marc have a gun. Cause he's FBI. So our new friend is FBI? I don't know," she said talking to herself again.

Zoies Farm: - "Sure thang girl," Zoie said before looking over to Relic as he rummaged through the refrigerator. "So what in the name of Baby Jesus have you gotten yerself into this time?" she asked him as she grabbed a glass and headed over to refrigerator, pushing her brother out of the way so she could get into the freezer and grab some ice.

Relic didn't say anything, just moving at first before grabbing a pitcher and heading over to the counter. "Well?" she asked as she stepped over to the sink and filled up the glass.

"Marc's in town," he said quietly. Zoie cocked a brow as she looked over to him.

"Well shit..." she muttered before turning off the water and stepping out of the kitchen. Heading over to Mali she held out the glass of water for the woman. It was a large half gallon mason jar filled. "If ya need more just make yerself at home." A bell in the kitchen rang. "Oh, cobblers done. Come on and get ya some grub, will set ya up with all the fixin's. Foods in the kitchen. Was gonna eats outside but this heat, reminds me of Ga summers. Rather stay in the air conditioning," she added before stepping back into the kitchen.

On the table was your picture typical southern meal. Fried Chicken, fried tomatoes, hushpuppies, collard greens, corn bread. Stepping over to the oven Zoie grabbed a hand towel and pulled out a cast iron skillet of blueberry cobbler. "Should be cooled enough to eat once we finish the meal," she said setting it down and turning the oven off. "Come y'all, lets eat."

---

---

Riley nodded as the 911 operator gave her instructions, she looked over at Felix as the orderlies were at work trying to stop the bleeding. She felt bad for Felix and hoped that he would make it through she entered the room and made her way over towards Marc as he escorted Cynthia over to a nearby chair. Then she heard another voice in the room which Riley turned around seeing Jaina which she assumed was another patient here. "Ah great another crazy." Riley muttered to herself she listened to Cynthia when she mentioned that Felix had dropped the knife that Marc had given him earlier back at her apartment. Riley knew if it would have been left here most likely one of the patients would find it, and it would turn out really badly for anyone who had it.

She started looking around the room she looked at Felix and gave him a slight smile. "You will be just fine Felix." Riley said trying her best to reassure him and keep the guy calm as she started to kneel down looking under bookshelves and furniture for the knife. Riley would occasionally look over at the new girl that had just came into the room. She wasn't sure what to think of her, was the crazy girl going to run up to her and attack, or hurt Marc or Felix she wasn't sure.

Riley still remained on the phone until the ambulance arrived at the scene she looked one of the bookshelves and found the knife there, she reached under it and managed to pull the knife out from under the bookshelf. Riley slipped the knife in her pocket and made her way to Felix just to make sure he would be alright doing her best to try and not stare at the wound as the orderlies put pressure over it.

---

---

---

---

Jaina chuckled slightly, looking as best as she could at Cynthia's latest masterpiece. The orderlies seemed to be more focused on keeping the fellow from bleeding all over the place than keeping her out of the way, and that was just fine in Jaina's book. Eavesdropping on the conversation, Jaina had an almost dreamy look on her face, as if she was floating on cloud nine.

"Make new friends...and break the old...." Jaina sang softly to herself, shrugging her shoulders as she giggled more and more. Cynthia had made an amazing portrait, one that she wished they could keep forever! She simply didn't understand, Jaina, that the injury was one that could cause death, for she did not understand what death was. It was one of the principle reasons that kept her safe from the electric chair.

At the mention of FBI, Jaina's ears perked up. The FBI and a knife? She almost did a backflip with joy. It had been ages since she had had a good romp, a good thrill! Here in the asylum, she couldn't do nearly as much as she pleased, and her friends from the circus had ceased writing to her ages ago. Peering up over the shoulders of orderlies and nurses, Jaina waved enthusiastically at Cynthia, seeing her friend pouting.

Pouting? But why should Cynthia be sad? Had she not just made the most beautiful picture? It didn't make any sense to Jaina, but if there was anything she hated, it was to see her friend so sad. Swaying ever so slightly, she closed her eyes, listening to a song that only she could hear. Opening her eyes, Jaina mimicked an announcer's voice. "I vot, v yeye kaliforniyskom debyute, Udivitel'naya Avrora!"

She took a slight bow, and winked at Cynthia, as she pulled off her necklace and took out her bobby pin. Both of them had been allowed through in asylum policies, but with Jaina's rap sheet, it wasn't the best of ideas. Grinning widely, like the cat that ate the canary, Jaina attempted to stick them into one of the orderly's jugular, beaming at Cynthia all the while.

"Cheer up~! No one can steal your happiness, Cynth!"

---

---

---

---

Her phone was flooded with messages as she sat in the back of the Uber, nervously tugging on her hair the longer she was away from the asylum. Of course, only a few of the messages were from the nurses on duty, informing her of what happened. The rest of them were a long chain of worried texts from her brother, followed up by calls which she declined, and then more messages. The more he attempted to get into contact with her, the more guilty she felt.

But she couldn't work with her older brother worried about her every moment. If he knew that her patient had attempted murder, removing someone's eyeball, she doubted she'd ever get to work in the asylum again. He'd wear her down until she resigned, maybe even bribe her with a position in his company. And at the same time, she'd fail Cynthia. She wouldn't be there for the misguided soul who needed her help.

"Merde," Iris cursed, noticing as the calls from her brother stopped. In her mind, there was only one reason for that--he was likely calling distant relatives in the area, as if they could somehow find out what happened at Iris' work. She didn't see her distant cousins, Cecily and Ethan, all too often--but she figured they'd both get a nervous Darcy on the phone shortly enough.

Once the uber arrived at the asylum, Iris let out a sigh of relief, and practically ran inside. "Where's my patient? Where's Cynthia?" Iris asked, the very second she got inside. She was tugging on her hair still with nerves, knowing that Cynthia could easily be facing spending the rest of her life in isolation. No one deserved that to happen to them--not if Iris could help it.

---

---

---

---

Waving at Caesar as he returned, Cecily gave him the rundown on everything she had learned. She informed him that the FBI agent was going to either the morgue or the hospital, that her roommate, the sister of one of the people killed in the drive-by, was with him. Once she finished recounting all of it, she sat her phone down and let out a sigh. She hated phone calls.

And almost like fate heard her, her phone began to buzz incessantly. The number had a British area code, and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm herself down and regain some patience. Odds were, it was some extended family member calling. About what, though, she had no idea. Picking up the phone, she answered it, only to hear a lengthy tirade in French. She barely recognized the caller.

"Okay, calm the fuck down," Cecily instructed, her patience and willingness to talk on the phone rather than text quickly evaporating. "I barely speak French, so say it again, in English." There was a pause, before the situation on the other end was explained. Seemed Iris had some sort of emergency at work and it had Darcy spooked, given that she worked in an asylum in the roughest city in the United States.

"Look, I'm sure she's fine...Yeah, yeah, I'll check in on her when I have a chance," Cecily said, before hanging up the phone. If one more person called her, she'd be liable to scream, and likely would throw the phone across the room and smash it.

Mali looked at the glass offered to her. For most people it would probably seem like far too much for any one person to handle, but given the amount of water she normally consumed on a daily basis, the heat of the day and the lack of hydration she'd been afforded so far, it was a tall glass of sweet relief.

"Thank you so much." She took the jar and drained a quarter of it immediately, not really caring what either of the siblings would think about it. She set down the jar and took a seat at the table, surveying the food before her: fried chicken, a mass of green stuff, some fried red things, cornbread and fried ball things. That's a solid 2/5. 40%. Good thing she wasn't being tested on what any of these were. Might as well just take a bit of everything and see how it all plays out. Talking about Danica could wait until after dinner.

"Either of you mind if I take a leg?" It was the best part of the bird, but there were only two (OOC: I'm assuming Zoie didn't fry up two whole chickens here) and there were three people here. Best be careful so as not to accidentally initiate a big squabble over a piece of chicken.

With his only working eye, he looked around, trying his hardest to survey his surroundings. In this moment, he could feel his life nearing it's end. Not in a literal sense but when he felt that crayon plunge into his eye he knew his end was close. It wouldn't be too hard for such a psychopath to smash the blunt object into his cranium. Yet he lived. He took a deep breath, trying his best to feel stabilised to make sure he didn't succumb to such a gruesome death.

He looked over to marc, biting down on his tongue and giving off a slight nod. "Hehe sure, after this...I'll be just peachy, better than ever" he breathed heavily. Something told him he'd pushed too hard, or he hadn't explained himself well enough. If only he had told this girl that Marc had sent him, that he was a friend of Marc and Riley. Then maybe he wouldn't be in such a bleak situation. At first he honestly thought this organisation was using the girl, as some sort of sleeper agent.

Obviously, he was wrong, Marc trusted her too much for her to be a sleeper agent. But there were always talk of those people who were, some would say, tricked into murder by others, such as therapists and the likes. Not so much tricked, more convinced that they wanted to kill someone. Judging by that girl's behaviour towards him it wouldn't be so far fetched to say she would be involved. But how would she have escaped to do any of those murders?

---

---

Cecily was busy. Very busy. It was rather like Lady Luck conspired with earthly agents of random mayhem to ensure that she did not exit the premises for the remainder of the evening. Of course, this was Justice, California. Caesar had found since his relocation there earlier that year, all too painfully, that Fate seemed to conspire diabolically against many people, deserving or no. Generally, this is an occasion to pack up and leave, but there was a significant amount of hellish retribution that needed to be doled out, and the older Mexican did not know precisely where to yet the blade just yet.

But the inevitable plans for blood and mayhem with either himself of a group of mostly unnamed antagonists at the business end of something sharp aside, these things were going to keep piling up the longer that they stayed around. "Look, Niña... began Caesar, "The bodies will come whether you are here or not. The phone will still ring. I'm sure that people will still get hurt and die while we are all in Mexico. You have a replacement coming. Let whoever it is take care of this first thing tomorrow."

The would be time for the realization of his revenge, and plenty of it. But for now, it was within his best interests to properly inter his daughter. Maybe even get in a few hours of honest, uninterrupted grieving after the fact. While he was at it, a few days out of country might do a world of good for his new friend, who as he noted, was getting shot at as much as he was. "It's getting late, and we have an early day. You should clock out, Niña, and let's go get some food. Besides, I want to introduce you to one of my associates. If plans move forward like I'm hoping, you're going to have to rely on him in the near future."

Caesar rose and nodded toward the door. "Come on. I'll gave you a lift in, make sure you get back home safe after."

---

---

---

---

---

Justice Asylum: - The paramedics were on their way and the operator let Riley know that they would be there soon. The line was still open to the 911 operator when Jania struck. The orderly didn't know what hit him as they were focused on Felix. (Who must have been in shock since he was talking with an eye ball gouged and ripped and half hanging down his face) The orderly was knocked to his side and the bobby pin hit its mark. That tiny little spot and the jugular was pierced.

Marc didn't know what just happened but Cynthia was giggling like a school girl. Bouncing up and down in her seat as she clapped her hands. "Pretty picture, pretty picture! Paint for a pretty picture!!!" she exclaimed with all the glee in the world.

"Riley, get Cynthia out of here," Marc said before scrambling over towards Jania. He nearly missed grabbing her, blood was pulsing in sprays everywhere in a thick mist and slicking up the place. Grabbing her arms he was able to get her to the ground with her arms behind her back.

"Don't hurt her!!!" Cynthia yelled.

"I'm not, just wrestling!" Marc grunted as he did what he could to keep Jania pinned to the ground as the orderly that had been stabbed in the neck was bleeding out.

Zoies Farm: - "Guests get first pick," Zoie said before taking half a breast herself and Relic going to grab the wings. "Pass the tomatoes," Zoie said to Relic, who didn't hear her at first. A sudden jump later and an ouch chirping from his lips and he looked at Zoie.

"What the hell was that for?" he said rubbing his shin.

"Fer not payin' attention, To-ma-toes," she said holding her hand out.

"Oh, yeah," he grumbled picking up the plate of fried green tomatoes and handing it over to his sister. Plating a few of the thick sliced green vegetables that had been soaked in buttermilk before being coated in cornmeal batter and fried up in a cast iron skillet. Drizzling over some ranch dressing she after she passed the plate back to Relic.

"Never understood how you can eat all this shit," he mumbled before taking a bite from one of his pieces of chicken and then grabbing some cornbread.

"Ya just never liked anything that wasn't meat or starch. You could do with some greens in yer belly. Collards and tomatoes be right good fer ya. Put some meat on yer bones," she said laughing.

"You're as thin as I am," he said rolling his eyes. "And I eat, constantly."

"Not soul food. Yous get that take out crap. How many chinese boxes you gots in yer fridge right now?"

Relic didn't answer. Deciding instead to change the topic. "Zoie, I think I'm in trouble."

She was about to take a bite out of the chicken when he spoke. Stopping she slowly sat it down and straightened her back. Leaning against the chair she picked up her napkin and cleaned off her hands before resting them in her lap. "Okay, what's going on?"

Relic swallowed slightly and gave a look over towards Mali, he looked like he was nearly pleading for her to fill Zoie in on what was going on but Zoie kicked him again. "Valentine and Juno!" he yelped.

"Sweet jesus..." she muttered before face palming.

Mali was taking her time with discovering each of the foods she wasn't familiar with. It was all so quaint. Frying tomatoes? Never would have crossed her mind, but turned out pretty tasty. Not something she'd have a strong desire for later, but if she had a chance to have them later, she wouldn't necessarily turn them down. The fried ball things turned out to just be more cornbread, which was both disappointing and came off as bafflingly redundant given the fact that normal cornbread was there as well. The greens turned out to be her favorite of the bunch. They were a hell of a lot better than the spinach she oftentimes cooked for herself, but something told her that it was likely that either there was a lot of things here that weren't healthy, or the comparative superiority of these greens was just her lack of proficiency in cooking at work.

But then Mali's meal was interrupted by the conversation's turn from simple bickering to the real matter at hand. Relic didn't seem all that up to the task of explaining why they were even here, so that task fell to her. Mali finished her current mouthful of chicken and sighed before chiming in.

[color=D5FF00]"I'm not sure you know how much you know, but judging by that reaction, I'll hazard that it's more than me. I'll just start from the beginning to make explaining as simple as possible. I first met your brother about a week or so getting beat up by some punks, and saved him from that mess. Since then he's let me in on a lot more info than I warrant for whatever reason. We've been poking into this whole conspiracy today, and I suggested that we look into the murder of Danica Graves rather than try to dig up stuff that my have already been found for us. That's when he suggested talking to you. Since then we took a trip to the asylum to talk to a certain doctor, and the patient she was interviewing at the time said that Valentine was coming for her. Now we're here. I'm not sure what he expects you to do, but here we are anyway.""

---

---

---

---

Jaina laughed her head off as Marc wrestled her to the ground, looking up at him with a deranged look in her eye. Cynthia seemed to be cheering up already, with the orderly's blood misting the air. Hearing the girl laugh brought joy to Jaina, and she smiled up at Marc as he got her to the ground. Her arms were behind her back, and there was a bit of discomfort to it, but Jaina made no sign of it. "Cynthia, it's a game~! Don't worry!" Jaina called out.

She paused for a moment, looking up into Marc's eyes. "Ah, those are pretty," Jaina commented, giggling a bit to herself. For a moment, it looked like Jaina was content to stay pinned on the ground, giggling. But the girl had been trained as an acrobat. Marc might have been heavier than her, but that didn't matter to her. She nearly headbanged him, but thought better of it, instead attempting to bring her feet in, and thrust upwards to knock Marc off of her.

"Do you the agent with the poofy hair?" Jaina asked, giggling a bit. "She said I...What was it again? Second degree murder. But that's just silly. Look at him!" she squealed, nodding towards the orderly, who was bleeding out. "He's fine! And looks much better like that, if you ask me."

---

---

---

---

Iris, meanwhile, was not having nearly as much fun. Beyond fencing, she wasn't much good in combat situations. One of the women in the room, a blonde she didn't recognize, looked to be on the phone with the paramedics. Then, there was the orderly with blood spraying out of his jugular. She stood there in shock for a moment, feeling incredibly and utterly useless. It took her a moment to come to her senses, seeing her patient, Cynthia, sitting on the couch, and a stranger wrestling another patient to the ground.

"Bloody hell..." Iris muttered, before running over towards the orderly, who was bleeding out. She did her best to put pressure on the wound, but she doubted it would do much good. She wasn't a medical doctor, but she felt the chances of surviving a puncture wound to the jugular were slim at best. They'd be lucky if the asylum didn't go into lockdown at this point.

"Cynthia, ma cherie, are you alright?" Iris asked, trying her best to help the orderly, but looking over at her patient simultaneously.

---

---

---

---

Cecily paused for a moment, before nodding. Truthfully, anyone could fulfill the work of a coroner. She wasn't even technically qualified for her own job, beyond an anal need to follow everything to code and to never leave a stone unturned. Plus, with her hatred of the phone, the prospect of shutting the thing off and ignoring it was rather nice. Putting her phone on vibrate, just in case, she shoved it in her pocket.

"Yeah, probably for the best," Cecily agreed, trying her best not to irritate her shoulder anymore than was needed. Iris was fine, most likely, and Darcy could be patient. She didn't need to jump to handle things for the extended family that she hardly ever saw. Her stomach agreed with Caesar as well, growling in approval at the idea of leaving to get food.

"A mystery associate?" Cecily joked slightly, smiling a tad. "And food? Sounds like a good way to round out the evening." She then headed out the door, looking forward to leaving the morgue behind--if just for a little while.

---

---

Riley still did her best to try and avoid staring down at Felix, wondering why he was still talking she wasn't sure if it was just the shock or what. She would have just passed out if Cynthia was the one that had done it to her, Riley looked away for a moment listening to the 911 operator telling them that the paramedics were on their way. That's when things turned even more gruesome then seeing Cynthia's attempt at making a 'pretty picture'. The new crazed asylum patient who seemed to be friends with Cynthia, yelling out, in what seemed to be possible german or something. Riley saw Jaina taking off her necklace and a bobby pin, then she was on top of one of the orderlies tending to Felix.

This day just seemed to turn from just a boring lazy day recovering to a straight up, shit show first finding some guns in Lawson's apartment shed. Then getting a call from some unknown caller that threatened to kill more people that she knew and cared for if she didn't hand the guns over to them, and getting a picture of her sister and her friend Ronnie dead in some driveby outside of Club Afterdark. Up to now her old high school rival who is now just a complete nutcase gouging out an author's eye out with a dull crayon.

Riley was in shock as she saw blood starting to pour out of the orderlies' neck, and Marc tackling Jaina onto the ground it took a moment for Riley to do anything. Riley shook her head when Marc told her to get Cynthia out of the room, which she nodded, but she was scared the woman did just fucking gouge a dude's eye out. "Y-yeah, i'm on it.." Riley said as she quickly got up and started making her way over towards Cynthia offering her hand to her former high school rival. "C'mon lets go somewhere else Cynth." Riley said looking over at the new woman that sounded French that came in, and asked if Cynthia was alright she assumed that this woman was her doctor. "Is there a room to take her so she wont hurt herself or anyone else here?" Riley asked Iris. Riley started to regret just taking the time off now to recover, and wished that she was out on tour and somewhere else now, then be anywhere that would get her killed.

This was turning from bad to worse. With his only good eye he was able to witness an orderlie hit the ground, his jugular letting out a spray of blood. He bit down on his tongue. The pain hit him hard agauin, as he saw the blood on the ground. His blood. Shit... Was he going to die of blood loss? He gritted his teeth now after feeling his tongue in more pain. He couldn't talk now, Pain. All he could feel was the pain of his eye socket, bloody and gouged.

He tried to push himself up with his arm more but seeing the orderly go down. Danger was obviously rampant here. If he made any sudden movements. Well, it wouldn't be a particularly thrilling fate. His thoughts were going haywire, as he tried to compose himself. But all he could do now was breath heavily and try his hardest not to scream.

They had to get out of here, or else Marc and Riley would end up as damaged as he was. He pushed on the floor again. If he didn't get out though, chances are he wouldn't last long.