---

---

Naturally, ready to leave the building did not necessarily mean that they were going to leave the building, no matter how pragmatic it appeared to be for their continued potential survival. Upon hearing Tinder's words to the SWAT Lead, Caesar held out a hand to stop Keystone's preparations for egress. It seemed that their presence would draw more in the way of unwanted attention if they left at that time, without first speaking to the team leader of the heavily armed pawns of a corrupt law enforcement organization. He kept his face neutral and made sure that his credentials were displayed prominently on the front of his coat, then turned and addressed the man. "Sorry about earlier. More used to writing a report about a scene than giving a statement." Yup. Suck it up, be respectful, and put this guy in the rearview as soon as the formalities were over.

Keystone, the somewhat larger and less experienced of the pair (though to be fair, some biblical figures bore less life experience that Caesar) concurred with his mentor's statement, holding out a business card to the SWAT Lead. "Yeah, ditto. Be right 'appy, give a rundown on events. This's where we can be reached, if'n you got questions after." The path to getting the hell out of that particular situation and back on their original path for the evening, let alone process the new information at their disposal, lay in dumping information from their perspective points of view. Honesty seemed to be the best policy in this instance; there was a third party on the scene and their stories really should match up, plus the difficulty with not having a moment's notice to come up with anything better between the two of them. Besides, if the window jumping psycho bitch told anyone on her side of the conspiracy what happened (which was highly likely), word would filter back anyway.

So! Storytime, getting off scene, prepare for departure, maybe get some food somewhere in that time. They had places to be. Hopefully those places would put them a step or two further in figuring out what all was going on. A possible stroke of luck was the name Tutwiler. If not luck, something to research on the plane.

---

---

---

---

Cecily had heard the SWAT team leader as she headed for the murder scene, adding that to the mental checklist of things to do before she could get some food and head back to work. Thankfully, though, the forensic technicians seemed to have finished up bagging and tagging. All that was left to do was for her to sign off, and then allow the scene to be cleaned up.

"Thank you all so much," Cecily said to the team, knowing from experience how tiresome and unappreciated the grunt work of forensics was. Many of them used to be her co-workers, people that she'd head to scenes with and quietly complain about Wallace. In many ways, it was surreal. The coroner job was never one that she had wanted, despite her college professors and even her best friend/roommate, William, trying to convince her that she'd get bored with the grunt work of running test after test. That she should have gone onto either medical school or graduate school, grab one of the top jobs, and use her head to invent new procedures and methods.

She looked over the evidence that had been collected quickly, checking to make sure that nothing stood out as unusual, before giving her signature and allowing the hospital to clean up the scene. She still needed to grab those tapes, of course, but there wasn't much more need to keep the hospital from cleaning up the bloody mess on the ground. It was an open and shut case, after all, with plenty of witnesses. Cecily didn't even feel that she needed a medical degree to conclude it had been a homicide.

Pulling out her phone, she took a moment to read and reply the texts that she had ignored. Seeing the long stream of texts from Darcy about Iris, Cecily noticed that they seemed to have stopped. She slid her thumb to the left over the conversation and clicked the red x, deleting all of them. She simply didn't have the energy to deal with more on her plate, plus Iris was fine and could tell her brother that herself. Then she read the text from Riley, biting her lip slightly as Riley mentioned she'd be at the hospital. She felt relieved once she saw the text from Roy -- mostly because both he and Riley were safe. Not because the man had a stab wound.

To Riley's phone (not the burner phone), Cecily texted:


To Roy's phone, Cecily texted:

Putting her phone away, Cecily ran a hand through her hair. She felt beyond stressed, thanks to everything that was going on. The prospect of going to graduate or medical school looked pretty good in hindsight, but she knew she wouldn't have changed her mind. She became a forensic technician early on in order to discern the truth through science. She was doing the work that she loved to do, work that needed to get done. She closed her eyes for a second, knowing that if she shut them too much longer she'd start to get sleepy.

"Okay. Security footage next. Think they said that was in the administration building. And after that, statements to the SWAT team leader."

---

---

---

---

Iris accepted Agent Tinder's card, feeling a bit perplexed as the man whispered in her ear. His breath tickled slightly and she nodded at him, finding some hope in the look of determination that colored his eyes. She said farewell to him as he took the files and left the scene, tugging a bit on her hair for a moment. So much had happened that evening and she couldn't even think of what to do next. Her mind was a blur of thoughts and ideas, and while the psychiatrists normally asked the orderlies to do this and to do that, Iris couldn't help but wish an orderly would give her some sense of direction here. She was new to this, after all.

She wasn't certain if the SWAT team member would need a statement from her - she had been hiding in Cynthia's room, per Agent Tinder's instructions, for the majority of the kidnapping. But she had witnessed the beginning of it and she had some information about Cynthia's kidnapper. For instance, she knew an alias of the woman - Jenny Green - and had a good idea of what she looked like. A fully formed image in her head, of course, thanks to a photographic memory.

Iris then gave her statement to the SWAT team leader, mentioning everything that she could recall - all the way from Cynthia gouging out Felix's eye to the moment when Agent Tinder went after 'Jenny Green' and Cynthia, instructing Iris to remain behind in the room. "I hope that helps," Iris said as she finished, looking uneasily at the SWAT team. "Is there anything I could do you for, messieurs?"

hew as out cold still. His body was unconscious, immobile as he was operated on. It'd been such a long time since he'd been forced into such a state. Hell, he couldn't recall another time in which such a scenario occurred. He always felt so helpless when he knew he'd be in a state where he couldn't defend himself. In that state he didn#'t know if Riley was gone, or where Marc was either. he remembered Riley in the ambulance ride but...now was different.

He found himself at the doorstep of his family home, on his knees staring at it with a cold furious look kindling in his eyes. He had to keep going. At this point he still saw himself as the rough dashing action hero. That's what he'd always wanetd to be. That's why he wrote detective and crime novels. he created characters that were charismatic, fearless and always got people happy, bringing a smile to every person they encountered. These were feats he never saw himself completing.

He knew why. he knew what had pushed him down. His dreams, cast aside by one man's words. "YOU ARE NOT SOME SILLY HERO FELIX" he heard shout through him. His father rarely used English, but Felix loved the language. He'd studied it in high school so much. So he could become something. Someone people would hear about and think, wow what a guy. Felix never became that. Felix just wrote, he wrote stories that bordered on reality. He became obsessed with creating situations for his heros to battle. Even if it meant breaking a few eggs.

He tumbled through the door, determined to keep going. He wasn't giving up.

---

---

---

---

---

Justice Asylum: - Over at the Asylum things were wrapping up and calming down, as best as it could. SWAT took the statements and cards, giving out theirs in return in case they thought of anything else. The forensics team was called over by SWAT to get finger prints of where the woman had jumped out of the window and down in the alleyway, as well as to see if they could get anything else.

"No, thank you," the SWAT team leader would say to anyone who asked if there was anything else they could do, he would thank them for their time, and that would be that.

The surveillance room was going to be a B U S T. The camera's were working but nothing had been recorded for the last forty-eight hours. They couldn't figure it out but then again this wasn't a high tech facility with hackers under their employ. This was a state run psyc ward and these were minimal wage rent a cops. The video was mostly there to use to press charges against patients that got out of hand or to use against the staff if they did anything wrong. Break outs happened but nothing like this and break-ins? Well that never happened.

Zoies Farm: - Zoie nodded a bit as she set her glass down on the table and went to retrieve another one. Filling it up with water she sat it down in front of Mali before taking a seat herself. "Yeah, it's become a bit of an obsession of mine as of late," she admitted as she ruffled her hair a bit in the back. The look on her face didn't seem the expression to denote she enjoyed it being an obsession, but more of a look of a former heroine addict putting up with another NA meeting. Drained, washed out, and wishing she didn't have to be there.

"Workin's with Juno, they be really into this whole mythology thang. Rome, Greece, so forth. I heards a lot from them in bits and pieces. I started lookin's into those, see maybe there was some tie with it alls, especially after a call I overheards. But I kind of gots side tracked," she said picking up her own glass and taking a swing from it. Letting out a sigh she sat it down and ran her finger over the rim of the glass. "Everything was always about Greece or Rome. Then by chance I seen on my bosses screen at work somethang about Egypt. Figured I would focus on that, maybes gets ahead of them. I onlies got lost."

Safehouse - "Hope your right, don't want anymore dead bodies," he said as continued to patch himself up as best he could. Grunting from time to time. While Riley made her call he leaned back and tried to get finished up with that. Her other phone ringing and getting messages was not good. "Gotta kill that one, fast," he said quietly while she was on the phone.

"Yeah, I met her at the crime scene by chance, her and that Mexican guy who lives in the same set of buildings. She is fine. But we gotta a problem Riley. Cynthia got transferred out here for some reason and was abducted. In the car now, trying to get a location on her," he said grumbling a bit under his breath as he continued to drive through Justice. "Right, the guns. Well I think Cecily is safe with that Federale and his brickshithouse of a companion. Anyone else we should look out for?" he asked her.

Roy picked up his phone as the ringer went off and checked his messages. Sending one back to Cecily real fast. ~I hate yellow spandex~

Justice Memorial - The surgery kept trucking on and Natasha had been forced to take a seat on a stool at the table, giving the anesthesiologist a break while she took over for him. She was glad to sit down. Each minute that ticked by she could feel the fatigue taking over. She shouldn't have put herself in this position with still being in recovery from Chemo and Radiation. It had taken a toll on her. She knew Lincoln was going to be rather upset with her when she finally got home and ended up having to head straight back out to catch a flight to Mexico. Then again, if this surgery kept up much longer she might just have to go from the hospital straight to the airport. Lincoln might actually hunt her down in Mexico if it came to that.

Keeping an eye on Felix's vitals she kept him under as the lead surgeon continued to work. This part of the operation was delicate and while he wasn't setting any land speed records for eye socket repair, it was going as smooth as Natasha could hope at this point. Nothing else had gone wrong and it still looked as if they would be able to save the socket. There was still time to go though and recovery would play a big part in it. She just crossed her fingers that even if luck wasn't in their favor it wasn't against them at the moment.

---

---

Riley heard her original phone going off again, letting out a sigh that it was just Cecily as she listened to the news Marc was giving her which was more bad news. Cynthia being abducted at the mental asylum, looking over at Roy for a moment hearing his comment about getting rid of her original phone. It was bad still using it at the moment she gave Roy a nod to let him know that she would get rid of her old phone, once she was done talking with Marc. He was still tracking her, somehow though she probably didn't want to know since Cynthia as far as she knew didn't have a cellphone on hand with her. "Fuck, who took her? And you better fucking not be going after her on your own Marc." Riley said, she lost her sister, her friend and an old classmate was kidnapped.

Riley then thought for a moment wondering who else was in the line of fire, Felix and Cecily were but from what Marc told her Cecily was being covered by Caesar. Riley didn't know the Mexican Hulk at all, only seeing his face around Boston Heights and nothing more running a hand through her hair letting out a sigh. "The only other person I can think of, who is probably in danger is Felix the man that tried to shoot me at the hospital was in the parking lot. The guy could still be there and Felix is still in surgery hes the most vulnerable." Riley then took out her old phone, to text Cecily she wanted to let her know that she shouldn't go back to Boston Heights tonight.

To CeCe:
"It's fine, been a shit show of a day. I found some shit, anyway i'll keep it short. DO NOT go back to our apartment and I mean it, i'll text you with a new number shortly."

Riley hit send hoping that Cecily would take that warning as she walked over to her the nearby sink, she made sure that any sort of GPS apps were off on her phone then she dumped it into the sink. Riley then turned on the water, letting it get wet then made her way back over towards Roy giving him a slight smile that job was done now. "Anyway Marc i'll be using this phone until I can get a new one, where are you right now?" Riley asked him, she started to wonder if he needed help with Cynthia. She then looked back towards Roy as she watched him continue to patch himself up feeling bad that she was talking to her friends, and not helping him.

"If you're trying to get ahead, then I guess I'm behind the curve. My field of expertise is in Medieval Europe. Ask me about the Church in France during the 12th Century and I could talk for days. Not really in my depth with this stuff about the Clasical era and before." Mali walked over to the nearest stable surface and set the books down on top of them. She had just been planning to exchange a couple of sentences with Zoie before getting on with her night, but she could sense the possibility of an extended conversation, and her arms were starting to get tired. It didn't matter how beefy you were, nobody liked standing in place holding shit when they didn't have to.

"Well it's easy to get lost when you don't know what you're looking for. There's what, 4,000 years of history hiding in Egypt? Way too much shit to go through in one lifetime, let alone when you're not really sure what you're searching for. 'Course, I don't know how much you know or where you're at right now." Mali leaned against the counter top with her good hand and rubbed an eye with the other.

"Maybe instead of trying to beat your bosses on research, look into the more recent history of what Juno's been doing and try to figure a direction from there? Not like the last few years, but the past century or so. Or maybe you could bounce some information off of me later? Two heads are better than one and all that jazz. And why haven't you told Marc about any of this? Are you just hoping to have a stronger lead or something first?" As much as Mali wanted to get to the bottom of Juno and fuck them over, her questions here were more based in simple curiosity and desire to be helpful than any sort of bigger scheme. She was well aware of how irritating it was to not know what to do when researching, and if just asking some questions to focus Zoie would help, she'd ask as many questions as necessary.

---

---

The older Mexican had a profound feeling that they had lingered in that building for far too long. His desire to leave grew with each passing minute, in no small part due to the number of heavily armed Californians with ties to a crooked law enforcement agency in his general vicinity. With all of the death slamming into the streets just recently (sometimes literally), Caesar wished to be on his way prior to some random bullet tearing off a lobe of his brain before he could bury his daughter and find out what secrets she was hiding back in Monterrey.

Meanwhile, Keystone was having a slightly better time of it. He stuck to Cecily like a giant, Cockney shadow as she moved from this place to that, experiencing the elation of going to retrieve the video, then the sudden disappointment as it was not within the realm of possibility. Still, this was more of the kind of work that he was accustomed to performing; Keystone was a massive blunt object that was best thrown against an opponent or used as a living wall, interposed between danger and someone in need of protection from it.

Naturally, the big man had accepted the card from the SWAT lead, as he would be the only one of their group in country after tomorrow morning (a fact that he kept to himself, as did Caesar). When they had all finished with their statements, Caesar motioned them in close and spoke with nonchalant but quiet tones. "If we're wrapped up, let's get going. It feels like we've been in this asylum for a month. And you and I," he motioned to Cecily, "...we need to pack. I'm going to lend you the Big Guy," a thumb to Keystone, "if you'd feel more comfortable, given that there's a psychopath out there someplace. I'm not sure I'll be sleeping until we get on the plane, myself."

Mind ever on food, Keystone interjected, "Yeah, Boss. I got 'er. Well, if'n she's game, any'ow." He grinned at the young Coroner, "So, 'owsaboutya then, Miss Cecily? Up for it? And wheres you wanna go for eats?"

---

---

---

---

"Motherfucker," Cecily cursed, after finding out that the cameras hadn't been recording. Nothing ever seemed to go right in this town, as if the very ground itself was poisoned and cursed. She let out a sigh, realizing that there was very little to be done about the tapes. Caesar might have had the resources to figure out the breach, but the asylum didn't. It was definitely something she'd want to look into, to figure out if someone could get a trace on the hack, but Cecily already figured it'd go back to Juno one way or another.

The tapes still lingered in her mind as they gave their statements to the SWAT leader, bothering her more and more with each moment that passed. Caesar ran a security firm--surely, they'd dealt with these sort of occurrences before? She herself knew relatively little about computers when it came to hardware and functions, but it seemed like the sort of thing that security companies were skilled with. But as she glanced down at her phone, seeing the text from Roy, she snorted and forgot about the tapes for a moment, tapping out a quick reply.

"Do you think you'd have someone who could figure out what happened with the tapes?" Cecily then asked Caesar, nodding at the loaning of Keystone. The next text that came in from Riley made Cecily ever the more glad that the giant would be coming with her. Her apartment wasn't safe, then. She had figured as much, but hearing the warning from Riley made the young coroner even more nervous. It showed on her face as she typed out a quick reply to Riley, letting her know that she wouldn't be returning to the apartment if she could help it.

"Anywhere is fine," Cecily said to Keystone, putting her phone in her pocket.

---

---

---

---

Iris wrung her hands as she paced back and forth a bit outside of her office. There wasn't much else left for her to do at the asylum. She had given her statement to the SWAT team and been thanked, yet they didn't need her help. She had all of this energy that she wanted to do nothing other than help Cynthia with, but it seemed to be beyond her abilities.

Pulling out her phone, Iris sighed as she saw the missed calls from her brother. She understood that he was protective and wanted to make sure his little sister was safe, but it was a bit much. Odds were, something else like this would happen during her time with the asylum and she couldn't have her brother freaking out about every little thing. Pressing the call button, Iris held her phone up to her ear.

"Darcy? C'est moi. Ça va, ça va," Iris began, reassuring her brother that everything was fine. "Il y a eu une urgence--une petite urgence, Darcy. Ne t'inquiète pas." A few more minutes of half explanations in French, with Iris giving her brother no more details than that there was a minor incident at the hospital, she managed to end the call. She'd have to talk with him eventually about not freaking out so much--but at the moment, her thoughts were still with Cynthia.

---

---

---

---

---

Justice Asylum: - "Sorry miss, we aren't hackers. No idea why it didn't record," the rent a cop said to her. If they wanted to know how, or why, or if anything could be retrieved that would need to hire someone to do it. Not that it would help. The place wasn't exactly high tech, in fact looking at stuff they were still on VHS! Yay for state funded institutions! Can I get an Amen?

Other than that though, it seemed like things were wrapping up at this point. There really wasn't anything else they could do unless someone knew a hacker that might be able to think outside the box and lend a hand but the Asylum seemed not to have anyone with any skill. Alicia would be been a big help right then, this type of security work was what she did and she did it well. Yet her body was getting ready to be moved to Mexico to be laid to rest, so unless someone had a way to speak to the dead it seemed like there was nothing they could do right then.

Upstairs the forensics crew was done and the orderlies were left to mop up the crime scene. One of them retrieving Cynthia's belongings, the team not bothering with it and for some reason it hadn't been passed onto the SWAT team who was already moving out. Seemed another call had come in so they needed to bug out then. The bag was taken to Iris and held out to her. "What do you want us to do with this?" he asked wearily. Seemed he was ready to either call it quits for the day or just quit in general. No one was getting paid enough for this shit.

Zoies Farm: - "Well that there ain't a half bad idea, yous gots brains and brawn girl," Zoie said light heartedly as she sat there. As Mali asked about Marc she shrugged a bit. "Not really sures. Haven'ts gots anything really. Just one of them guts feelin's is all but maybes I just ways off base ya knows? He's gots enoughs on his plate without mes giving him a lead that leads no where hell I don'ts know if its evens a lead. For all I knows they were buying somethangs for their living room," Zoie said after thinking on it a few minutes.

"Only things I do knows is they really into a lot of mythologies, especiallys artifacts," she added as she stood up. "Holds up a second," she said before wandering out of the kitchen. "Just gonna be grabbings something," she added as she walked down the hall to her study and came back shortly after with a book. Flipping it open she handed it over to Mali and showed her an image in it. "Been seein' this a lots lately," she said as she sat back down and ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing it a bit.

Safehouse - "Right... I'd never do anything like that," Marc said to Riley about rushing off after Cynthia. It was obvious he was lying, Marc had never been good at lying. He could hide his facial features well enough but if he spoke his voice usually gave it away. Right then it was. "Don't worry about it. You just stay safe, I'll be in contact," he said before hanging up and saving the new number. He wasn't going stay on the phone any longer with her. Not that he didn't want to talk to her but he didn't want to drop any clues to his whereabouts, especially since he was pulling up to Boston Heights right then. He wasn't about to put her in more danger.

Roy dropped a quick text back to Cecily - Only if you dress up as well and join me at ComicCon" - smirking to himself he hit send and laid the phone down before standing up and cringing slightly.

"Everything okay?" he asked Riley as he grabbed another shirt out of his duffle bag and slipped it on over his head slowly. "Well as okay as it can be in Justice," he followed up with a sigh. Things were never alright in Justice, there were just moments of lull where only a few people died instead of a dozen or more. Rubbing his face he looked around the room and carefully sat down on the couch. "You know, maybe I should go get us something to eat. It's getting late."

---

---

"That is fucking bullshit and you know it." Riley said over the phone, growing up with him Marc really wasn't a good liar at all and she could easily tell it in his voice. Then him telling her to stay safe, she was about to say something else before he hung up the phone groaning loudly to herself and rubbing the bridge of her nose. She wasn't even sure where he was heading to find out where Cynthia is, setting her new phone down in her pocket as Roy put on a clean shirt and moved over towards the couch. Riley turned her attention towards Roy when he asked her if things were alright.

"Not really no. An old classmate of mine who is a patient at the asylum got kidnapped, and Marc is going after her. Pretty much pulling the shit I did back in Grimm when I tried looking for Chloe before the showdown that happened." Riley she said, she pretty much knew his mind was made up and there was probably no way to try and convince Marc to come back and think of a strategy to get her back. "And theres no way to know where hes headed off to." Riley looked over at Roy's shirt then up at him asking if she was hungry and wanted to get something to eat, she hadn't really gotten anything to eat only a few snacks here and there. "I'll go with you if you want." She offered.

Mali supposed that line about brain and brawn was meant to be a compliment, but the implication was that the impression she gave off was that of a dumb brute. Well you can't change people's perception of body type, and the archetype of the dumb muscle has been a staple of fiction stretching back probably since the beginning of human history. Yet life wasn't an RPG where you could either put your stats into Strength or Intelligence. And even when she thought about it like that, the implication hurt a bit. It was something she'd run into now and again, but it was one of those consequences of bulking up that she had yet to get over.

While Zoie was off getting the picture from wherever it was, Mali stood idly for a bit before thumbing through the pages of the Romance novel. Not because she was particularly excited to read that one, but it was a lot easier to handle a small paperback book. She'd managed to skim through a couple of pages before Zoie had come back. The writing wasn't good from an objective standpoint, which was to be expected, but even worse was that what little she'd read had been dull. Maybe that passage wasn't representative of the whole thing, but her willingness to read more was rather low.

The first thing Mali thought of when she saw the image was the necklace Relic had acquired. It wasn't quite the same, but the similarities were undeniable. Chances were that he hadn't told Zoie about it, and given that Mali was already withholding information from his sister, she wasn't about to let a fact like that slip nonchalantly. At least not without consulting him first.

"It reminds me of a buckyball with the way those sphere things are attached. But I'm pretty sure Juno isn't interested in organic macromolecules. I'm pretty sure JD Mason and her teacher had uncovered an artifact kinda like this back in Greece shortly before their deaths. If I recall correctly it was an icosahedron instead of a dodecahedron. If I had a picture I'd show you, but think they're related?" A wild thought crossed her mind about how it could be a container or focal point for the various stones of the same nature as the necklace, but that was pure speculation at best, fantastical magic nonsense at worst. Mali might be more open to ideas of ancient conspiracy cults and far out ideas like that, but literal magic was out of the question.

He was still out. Still unable to decide his own fate. He was always obsessed with trying to twist his own fate into a better shape but right now. His fate and life were in the hands of professionals. Professionals that could be bribed and could have ulterior motives. If he had been conscious he'd be objecting and trying to get out of that surgery. His eye socket was likely gonna make it, he appreciated that at least. His eye might've been gone but at least he was being..was it repenting? Paying for what he had done.

In his own confines of his mind, he was seeing his old family house. Strange men and women, drunk and surrounded in smoke as they stumbled through his dads house. He used to always have these weird people, obviously gangsters and drug addicts. His father had these parties to imporve their money, people loved them. Felix didn't. His brothers made sure he stayed in his room but when he went outside of his room, he saw the filth of the city. The subject of his books soon to come.

He wished he could've done more. he was grateful his end wasn't there yet. He needed to wake up. After the surgery he didn't want to rest for too long. He'd be in pain. He knew that. But he wasn't just going to lay around and let himself be pushed around. No. His story wasn't over. He knew how books worked. He was going to push through this pain and get to the tole he deserved. He would make an impact on the public and make this into the story. The story that would make him and everyone else famous and remembered. He'd publish it. best seller. Come on. It had to be finished.

---

---

An eyebrow was raised at Cecily's casual use of what might be considered the Mother of all Fuck words. Apparently, the lack of video was that absolutely galling to her, and in truth it bothered him, too. Not so much with the particulars of the other case, but any chunk of evidence concerning the woman who he could not make blink and apparently had planned two escapes from the same side of the building (just in case someone cut her off from the stairwell) most definitely interested him. "Had someone. Really good, too. She's in a refrigerated cabinet in your office right now." There was sadness in his voice, be it reined in by notes of anger and professionalism. Of course, he was talking about Alicia.

"Tomorrow morning early, about the time we're leaving, some of my tech people from Seattle should be arriving by plane. M'hija trained them all herself, and they're committed. Volunteered with one day's notice, when they found out what happened." Of course, he did know of another young lay who could almost fill Alicia's shoes, but there was no chance in hell that Caesar was going to ask her to come to this god-cursed city, nor his brother for permission to ask in the first place. He absently shook his head, trying to banish the thought before it took root any further than it already had. His tech people could handle this, if it was something that indeed warranted their attention.

"If you can get us access back into the crime scene later on, maybe my people can take a look. In the meantime, I feel the need to return home and see what crawls up from the tunnels." He recalled the map from before, the one of the old tunnel system that opened, among other places, underneath his apartment. He needed to find out exactly how it was accessible, and if necessary, seal it off from his side. Or use it for his own advantage. "When you two are ready to go, so am I."

---

---

At mention of the Tech people arriving in the morning, Keystone's face took on a note of recognition. "Yeah, I gots my East Enders comin' in, 'bout around the same time. I'll be happy, give you lot a ride in bright an' early. Gotta be there in a few hours, anyhow." Indeed time had a way of flying where violence and drama was concerned, except for the lulls between when it seemed to crawl with a maddeningly slow pace.

The big guy checked his phone, noting the time. "Bloody 'ell, we ain't got much time left..." he said with some urgency. "Miss Cecily, if we can get a move on?" he began escorting his charge through the waning press of professional bodies doing what they did to make the world safe for forensic evidence collection. "Apologies for givin' you the rush, but I got precious little 'fore my window closes, an' I've a call needs making."

The push brought them into the open air, where Keystone located his Ramcharger across the street and beelined toward it. He kept his eyes alert for the various kinds of anti-personnel threats that might befall one in an urban setting; vehicles driving oddly, shifting light in higher windows, anyone making prolonged stares in their general vicinity, etc. When they finally got there, he popped open the door for the young coroner, hopped in the driver's side, and immediately jumped on his phone.

"Oi, Valentino's? Still got the ovens on? Oh, thank Bacon." He looked over to Cecily, "Kitchen's still open." he said with muted joy. "Yeah, thanks for that. Takeaway, er, "To Go", 'cuse me. So, yeah, I'll be 'avin' that Penne Bolognese an' some of that precious Ravioli you lot make. Double order on that. Ah, an order of that Sicilian Grilled Fish, an, oh God, that Three Sausage Calzone you like to fold about with the mushrooms and whatnot. Yeah, that'd be tops, thanks. And lots of that salad and garlic bread. Uh huh. Yeah, same account. Thanks." He turned the key to his vehicle, it's older model engine roaring to life with satisfying dependability. Keystone turned again to Cecily, phone still to his ear, asking, "Right then, what'll you want to eat?"

---

---

---

---

Cecily nodded at Caesar's words. She wasn't sure if they would be able to get access to the scene and those tapes later on, as any remaining investigation would be in homicide's ball court. It'd be out of the coroner's office and out of Cecily's control, though there was a chance that Roy would be able to get them in, if he took this over as his case in terms of charging a culprit and handing over a list of evidence to the D.A.'s office.

The mention of the MSS office in Seattle tugged a bit at Cecily's heartstrings. She had lived in so many cities, attended so many different private schools, that she never really had a hometown. But Seattle had been her birthplace and the city that she always thought could have been her hometown. It was the city where she'd want her ashes to be scattered when she died.

She let Keystone usher her out of the asylum, having completed just about every task left for her. As he explained being in a bit of a rush, Cecily picked up the pace, walking as fast as she could next to the far larger man. "Don't worry about it," Cecily replied, feeling her own phone vibrate as a text came in. The night air felt good against her face as they hurried into the car, Cecily getting into her seat and shutting her door after Keystone opened it for her. Reading the message from Roy brought a bit of an excited smile to her face. She might not look it, but the girl was a cosplayer. She had a Ciel Phantomhive cosplay back in her apartment.

She then giggled slightly at Keystone's glee over the kitchen still being open, but her stomach was practically just as excited. She listened to the man order enough to feed a small army, wondering how anyone could put away that much food without getting sick. "Uh...Spaghetti bolognese and a salad?" Cecily requested.

---

---

---

---

Iris glanced up at the sound of the orderly approaching, seeing the bag with Cynthia's belongings. The orderly sounded completely knackered and Iris' heart went out to the man. Hours working at the asylum were terrible as it was, even without kidnapping and murder. She could have asked the orderly to drop Cynthia's things off in her room, but Iris had a gut feeling that there may be something helpful in Cynthia's possessions. Perhaps there'd be some clue that would help resolve this ordeal.

"I'll take them, merci," Iris said with a smile, taking the belongings from the orderly.

She wished that she could tell the orderly to go and get some rest, but it wasn't her authority to do so. She was even more tempted to let the man kip in her office if he needed to. "Go and get some rest, if you can." Iris then sat down behind her desk, putting the bag of belongings on her desk before searching through it for anything of note. Maybe there'd be something from Cynthia's mother, something to confirm or deny the woman's identity as Jenny Green. Maybe there'd be an address. Just maybe there'd be something useful.

---

---

---

---

---

Justice Asylum: - "Well if you can bring someone in to look, I'll be more than happy to let them do what they need," the man said before turning his attention back to the monitors. He didn't like the fact that they didn't have a recording but it wasn't the first time something like this had happened. It just came with the territory and he wasn't paid enough to really care too much. Usually it didn't matter but seemed this time it did. Oh well. Picking up a pickle from the jar on his desk he chomped down on it and sat there. Hopefully the rest of the night wouldn't be as exciting as it had already been.

Upstairs the orderly nodded. "Yeah, you too ma'am," he said before heading back out of the office. In Cynthia's things it seemed like the bag of a well rounded girl at first. A much younger girl, high school. Bright colorful pens and pencils, Lisa Frank type notebooks, a scrap book of pictures of a much younger Cynthia. There was a photo album as well from what looked like a life of Cynthia before she came to Grimm. She couldn't have been two months old and there was her abductor holding her close. They looked all of the loving family. Mother, daughter... And a man in the picture. He didn't look like either of them right off, well maybe the eyes a bit but he was older. Could he have been Cynthia's grandfather? He looked rather hard, with an expression much like Caesars. The man had obviously seen something's in his life.

Zoies Farm: - "Who knows, could be," Zoie said as she thought back to the image and then glanced towards it. "I knows my boss wears ones around her neck, a small one. Whys I gots no idea. I mights be ables to snoops around some tomorrow," she said before stifling a yawn as she covered her mouth. It was getting late and while she was normally a night owl today had been a bit more active than she was used to, in a very different way as well.

Rubbing her eyes, she pushed back from the table and stood up. "Maybes we needs to take a visit to the museum in town, sees if we could talks to someone but fer nows I thinks I better pass out in beds. Lookin' to be a long day tomorrow," she said as she picked up her glass and finished off the water in it before setting the empty jar down in the sink.

"Hopes you gets some rest Mali, see yas in the mornin's. Nighters," she added before stepping out of the kitchen and making her way upstairs. It was time for bed, tomorrow was a new day.

Safehouse - Roy sighed slightly and stood up. "No, you stay here just in case. Don't want you out there. People know your face," he said before giving her shoulder a squeeze. "I'll be right back," he added before heading out and closing the door behind him. He wasn't gone long before he came back with a couple of bags of food.

"Wasn't sure what you liked, so we have Chinese and Mexican," he chuckled as he set out a variety of quick pick up items. Tacos, egg rolls, rice, chips, dip, lo mien, and the like. It could have been worse and at least the food tasted good. "You can take the bed tonight, I'll take the couch. Tomorrow we will get the hell out of here hopefully," he added as he grabbed a take out box of orange chicken and plopped down on the couch.

Checking his phone he chuckled as he read Cecily's text and fired one back at her. "You're on!" - Slipping his phone back into his pocket and got to work on devouring his dinner. He only got about half way through the meal before he slumped back on the couch and fell asleep. Chopsticks still in hand, the take out dish on his leg, and his head rolled back over the back of the couch. Seemed the day had finally caught up on him.

Justice Memorial Hospital: - Natasha let out a sigh of relief as the operation finally came to an end. They had done all they could and now only time would tell if a transplant could be done at a future date. For now at least the patient was stable and being moved into recovery. After a few hours there he would be moved to ICU for a few days at least. After that, it would probably be another week in the hospital in a general room and then months of healing and recovery in general. It was a long road ahead but it seemed that the worst was over. He wouldn't be awake until at least the morning, so it was best to just try to get moved on.

Turning over the case to another doctor, Natasha sent out a text to Riley's phone giving her an update to let her know that the surgery was over, he was stable, and that he could have a visitor tomorrow afternoon. That was about all she could do then. It was time to go home, get packed, and maybe, just maybe grab an hour or two sleep before the flight in the morning. Sending out another text, this time to Cecily, she let her know she was turning in now and that she would call in the morning to meet up for breakfast hopefully before the flight.

Mali watched Zoie leave before stifling a yawn of her own. She had been feeling sleepy long before anyone else in the farm had, so by this point she had gotten quite a bit groggy. She looked at the picture still in her hand. Zoie didn't ask for it back or anything, so she probably didn't direly need it. She probably had copies (physical or otherwise), but on the off-chance she didn't, Mali decided to keep track of it. But not before securing a copy of her own.

One quick phone photo later, she tucked away the image into the front cover of one of her books and made her way to the guest room. She'd use it as a bookmark to keep her place. Yeah it might get damaged a bit, but it would be fine. As for what book exactly that she'd want to read before hitting the hay. What little she'd read of the romance novel soured her on going any further down that route. Yeah she could get to reading on Ancient Egypt, but she had just spent awhile talking about it, and could end up devoting a lot more of her future on that particular subject.

Which left The Rising Dragon, the one book that she was most excited and most dreading reading. Part of her contemplated just going to bed right away and avoid confronting the horrid taste of the teenage self. Wait, why was she so afraid? It's just a book. Thus Mali steeled herself and dug in. Much to her surprise, the book was just as good as she remembered. It was by no means perfect, but it was like sharing a meal with an old friend. About 50 pages in she had to stop herself lest she not get any sleep for the rest of the night.

---

---

Riley looked up at Roy and sighed softly and gave him a slight nod, he did have a point pretty much her face was pretty well known and anyone would pretty much recognized her if they knew her music. "Alright then i'll be here I guess." Riley said as she leaned back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. Before sitting back up and started to take out her phone, tucking a few strands of hair behind her hair and then took out Brinne's card from earlier. She forgot to add that in as well, sending out a rather quick text to her letting her know that she had dropped her phone and got a new one and to get any information on Felix and how he is doing. Riley then started to send out a text to Cecily and Marc as well.

To CeCe:
"Heya, just wanted to let you know that this is Riley using a burner phone Roy gave me. I'll be able to talk more freely now with this one, hope you are okay and love you."

To Marc:
Marc please be careful, I lost my sister and one of my friends today, I don't want to lose another. Please call or text me so that I know your okay. If Ada found out you died somehow, and I knew about it she'd probably end up gutting me.

Riley hit send sighing rather loudly, when she heard the door opening which made her jump ever so slightly and saw that it was just Roy with several bags of food. "I'm starved, and I don't mind either lived on Chinese and Mexican food for the longest time after my parents disowned me." Riley said as she got up and pulled out a taco from one of the bags, as well as a box of rice and quickly started to dig in and joined Roy on the couch. Riley simply just took the time to relax as best as she could, she looked at Roy and gave him a nod though he should have taken the bed. "Hopefully we don't get killed tomorrow." Riley said softly.

Riley watched as Roy finished eating his food, seeing him pretty much just pass out right there on the couch with the chopsticks in hand still and a plate in his lap. Riley gently took the chopsticks from his hand, and took the plate as well setting it down on the table next to the first aide kit. Riley looked at Roy as he slept peacefully in the bed, putting the first aide kit back where she had found it originally. Riley yawned slightly as she searched around for a blanket, and eventually found one drapping it over Roy as he slept so that he would be comfortable.

She made her way to the front door and made sure that it was locked, before turning off all of the lights then took off her shoes and socks. Riley then climbed into the bed pulling the covers over herself and rolled onto her side letting out a soft sigh as she closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.

Push on. He kept willing himself but soon his walk began to become easier. It was like there wasn't as much pain and struggle as there was mere moments ago. He thanked whoever was responsible for that under his breath, his eyes wide. He realised just now that his mind...still saw him with both eyes. He let out a bitter laugh and clenched his fists. Not gonna be for long that was for sure.

He pushed against a wall. Rememarring people that he'd known. Before he fled like the coward he was. From his home. From his country. Felix wasn't too popular until his books came out and his mother began influencing other people. But still he knew there was a bad taste in anyone mouths whenever they saw him. He was like a pest to many yet he was determined to leave that image behind.

---

---

---

---

Iris flipped through the photo album and the scrapbook album. While most of Cynthia's possessions seemed to be a bit odd, belonging to a little girl rather than a fully grown adult, it was the photos that struck her as curious. Cynthia and her mother were to be expected, but the man in the photograph? Maybe a grandfather, maybe a great-uncle, who knew? But it struck Iris as important and she slipped the photo albums into her own bag, leaving the rest of Cynthia's things in a cabinet by her desk.

Gathering up the rest of her things, Iris headed out of the asylum, feeling the weight of the photo album in her bag. Tomorrow, she could try to use a Google image search on the man in the photograph, as well as pass it onto the FBI agent. They likely had more sophisticated processes at identifying individuals. The more information they knew about Cynthia's family, Iris felt, the clearer idea they'd have of what to do.

She hailed a cab to take her home, musing to herself over the events of the day during the entire trip. By the time she got to her place in the Chicago Heights, she was thoroughly exhausted and hungry. Yet she didn't feel much like cooking and instead grabbed an aero bar from the cupboard, munching on it as she went about her nighttime routine, before finally falling asleep in her bed, her bag leaning against her nightstand and her phone charging.

---

---

Following closely behind Keystone and Cecily, the elder Gonzalez made his way back to his trike. He had experienced quite enough for one day. Or one month. Or a lifetime, really, of some of the most amazingly dramatic and/or conflicting set of circumstances that had ever befallen mankind, aside from the horrors of Generra Hypercolor sports apparel from days long passed. And his night wasn't quite over with, either.

As the massive Brit and young Coroner climbed into their mode of transportation for the evening, Keystone's big black Ramcharger. He gave a silent affirmation to the man, one of the few people he could trust in an increasingly violent and dark city; one that had already taken from him more than he thought possible. The piece of his soul that was pulled from him at the death of his daughter was still raw, gaping; but it was slowly and surely being covered over with a hard shell that, if left to complete itself, would calcify what compassion remained of him, reducing him into nothing more than a dedicated being of blood and anger, cutting his way through a sea of flesh until death finally claimed him by means of accident, misadventure, or the slow decay of time finally slowing him enough so that a younger, more able opponent finally took him down. Nothing could fill that gap, but killing a whole fucking lot of people responsible for his loss would be an okay start.

Hopefully, none of those things would happen before he was finished interring Alicia and learning what message she left for him. Tomorrow, he traveled for Monterrey, Nueva Leon, Mexico. Right now, he traveled for his temporary home here in Justice.

Caesar pulled up to his building in Boston Heights and removed the saddlebags from his trike. There was some caution as he went into his apartment; weapons were within excellent stabbing and/or shooting reach, but part of him felt raw and beaten enough to almost welcome an attack. Nevertheless, he entered his empty feeling home and sat down in the dark for a long time. How long was anyone's guess, but he needed a long, long moment of quiet. After a while, he rose, pulling out one of his many sharp objects, and slowly made his way over to the fridge for a beer. It was like this that Caesar conducted a search of his house, much in the same manner that he and Cecily did a quick search of Alicia's office at the private airstrip near the docks.

Eventually, Caesar found himself sitting in a recliner in his living room, gun sitting on the table beside him and several sharp things at his disposal. He clutched an empty beer bottle in one hand, and the only illumination in the room filtered in from the streetlamps outside. Maybe he'd catch a little sleep. Maybe not. All he had to do was make it onto the plane, anyway. First class has such lovely seats for napping, and it promised to be a long flight.

---

---

Instead of adding Cecily's order to the gargantuan lineup of Italian entrees, Keystone amended a portion of his selection for the evening. His eyes fixed on his comparatively tiny passenger, the brute-seeming man backtracked his conversation with a casual, "Y'know what, change that penne to a spaghetti, if ya would." and turned to Cecily with the whisper of "Gots to watch m'girlish figure, yeah? Hey, d'you like vinaigrette? 'Ell of a balsamic there..." he paused for a moment, listening to a stream of words from the other end of that conversation. "Yuh huh. Be there in a few."

Cecily chuckled slightly at Keystone's comical nature. She nodded at liking vinaigrette, having truthfully never found a salad dressing that she disliked all together. And of course, she could hardly imagine Keystone's figure as ever being called girlish--though perhaps in comparison to the bodybuilder that lived at the Boston Heights, then maybe. Both of them were rather brobdingnagian, after all.

The big man ended his call and pulled into the streets of Justice, headed away from the Asylum and the drama therein. "So, you got a plan for the evenin', or are we puttin' the wing to 'er?"

"Er....Well I need to grab my passport and things from my apartment, but my roommate texted me to avoid going there if at all possible," Cecily explained. "So if you wouldn't mind, maybe we could head there so I can grab some things? I s'pose I could sleep at the lab--wouldn't be the first time."

Keystone gave her a nod and an affirming grunt, driving onward to the same restaurant that he, Cecily, and Caesar had left earlier in the evening. There was a small wait for their order despite the relative quiet of the restaurant; it seemed that they had arrived earlier than expected. Keystone used the opportunity to speak to the young lady in his company. "Oi, Miss Cecily..." he started quietly, "Boss told me to keep you safe. As I'm hearin' it, whatever problems you got know where you're employed, yeah? Your lab's right out." He sighed a little, unsure as to how his next sentence would be taken. "After we stop by your flat and get your things, might be that you should bunk on my couch for the night. I've even got a decent bottle of Lambrusco that'd fit supper just perfect."

"Nuthin' ungenlemanlike intended, o'course."

Cecily felt relieved at Keystone's offer. As an individual who didn't quite feel sexual attraction and lived with her friend, William, for most of college, she was a bit oblivious to any rumors that could start, sleeping on Keystone's couch in an area heavily populated by cops she worked with. She had already been shot once that day and didn't intend to make a habit of it. "That actually would be brilliant, thanks," Cecily replied. "Definitely safer than the morgue and I'm young. I don't mind a couch."

"Right, don't mention at all. Let's go get supper, then." Keystone returned to the counter to procure large bags containing temporary aluminum containers, paper napkins, and plastic flatware. He gave it a quick once-over, comparing what resided inside of the to-go containers to his actual order, and, satisfied with the food, gave the hostess a vigorous nod. "Anything else while we're 'ere? Soda, tea, tiramisu on-the-fly? Company account, y'see, an' they know I'm a big eater."

"I'm good, thanks," Cecily replied. She'd just get some water later, probably healthier anyways.

His only misgiving was that there were four Styrofoam containers of salad, and a like amount of bread with compound butter. After a grief conversation involving minimal hand waving, he was assured that because he placed multiple orders of food, he received multiple helpings of side items. A shrug and a Cockney accented "Eh, sod it..." later, Keystone hefted the bags and walked back out to the Ramcharger. Along the way, he made a quick appraisal of their situation. "Okay then, Miss Cecily. Your place first. Keep just behind me, I'll sweep the place once we get there, and guard the exit 'til you're good to go. When it's time to leave, I'll carry as much as you need me to, s'long as my gun hand's free. Just in case, y'understand. You exit the car last and get in first, after I secure the area. We good?"

"Sounds good," Cecily nodded, her eyes a little bit wide at all of the precautions. It was another reminder of how her brain thought differently than Keystone's. It wouldn't have occurred to her to have a set order for leaving and entering the car, but she trusted Keystone and the idea was a sound one. Then of course, she also wasn't too certain what items one brought with them when on the run. She was an expert at air ports and moving, having been jostled around throughout her childhood, but that didn't prepare her too much for this.

By the time Keystone pulled into the Boston Heights, Cecily had assembled a rough list of items that she'd need to bring with her to Mexico. The most important being, of course, her passport. As much as she disliked shopping, it was all that she'd really need for travel. Clothes could be purchased later, after all. She glanced over towards Keystone, waiting for him to secure the area. Once that was done, she was true to her word and kept close behind him, goosebumps running up and down her arm as they made it to the apartment.

The way into the apartment was clear, or at least clear enough according to the general ambiance of Justice, California. That was to say that while the way looked clear, blinds weren't ajar in dark windows, there were few if any obscured niches, no strange, unmarked vans, and light sources were bright and stable, the chances of something unfortunate happening were probably equal to it not. Nonetheless, Keystone was the consummate guarder of bodies and kept a thorough as possible. As soon as they were inside the building, the big man drew his Desert Eagle and motioned for Cecily to unlock her door and step away.

The moment he door was open, Keystone quietly stepped inside. Seconds ticked by ponderously, turning to minutes, when the big man poked his head back out of the door and waved her inside. With the door closed and locked, Keystone stayed near it, gun still drawn but pointing toward the floor at a readied but held position. He had closed all curtains and blinds, and only turned on lights of interior rooms. "Place's clear, Miss. Let's not dawdle, grab what you need and keep speech to a minimum. You see somethin' out of place, you don't say a word, just come back out to me and we're gone. Lemme know if I can grab anythin' for ya."

"I'll pack light, I don't think I'll need you to carry anything," Cecily explained, pulling out a well used suitcase from underneath her bed. She threw inside of it the changes of clothes she'd need, a lab coat, her laptop, and then the first volume of Jessica Jones: Alias. She hesitated slightly over whether or not to bring the little stuffed cat she had had since she was little, before tossing that into the mix as well. Zipping up the suitcase, she left her bedroom and rejoined Keystone.

"Good to go?" inquired Keystone quietly.

"I'm all set," Cecily answered. She still had the forensics kit she had packed earlier with her, allowing the young coroner to analyze anything on the fly. She had a feeling it might be useful. And her pistol, once kept at home, had been on her person since this entire business began.

"Good, back to it, then. Food's gettin' cold." He motioned for her to stay just behind him, did a routine scout of his car and beneath it, then opened the door for Cecily and waited for her to climb in.

The ride back to his place was uneventful, with the exception that the smell of fine Italian food had permeated the vehicle's interior, prompting all manner of unholy sounds to issue from Keystone's abdomen. Yet he did not go beyond the speed limit listed for the area, nor did he make any illegal turns, nor anything else that may draw attention to them. It seemed very anticlimactic when they pulled up to his Chicago Heights apartment and disembarked, Keystone showing a similar (but not quite as urgent) sense of concern about security.

Inside, the large man locked up his place tight and began to set out food. The apartment itself was not particularly opulent, by any stretch of the imagination, certainly not the standard home of an Acting Director of the Justice Branch of a multinational private security firm, but it was comfortable enough for a big lug like J. Keystone. The kitchen looked both well appointed and well used, yet everything was immaculately clean. Perhaps most importantly, there was a big, comfy couch in the living room with a large coffee table and decent television nearby. "Make yourself at 'ome, Miss Cecily." he said, offering her a wine glass and setting an opened bottle of sweet Lambrusco on the table in front of it.

"I'll get your supper on a proper plate, then. Put somethin' on TV if you like, if y'ain't partial to nothin' particular, news is fine."

"Thank you," Cecily said, taking the wine glass and sitting on the couch. Oh, for a fangirl to be given the option to decide what went on the television. There were plenty of shows she loved to watch. Lucifer was headed for its finale in just a week or so, with the Big Bang Theory having just finished about a week back. Gotham was close as well, though Cecily had fallen a bit behind with the show. For a moment, she was almost paralyzed with choices. Hell, part of her was tempted to put on X-Men: the Animated Series after her earlier conversations with Roy, but she watched that one semi-legally online to avoid paying for it. She doubted Keystone would appreciate that. And while she was partial to Game of Thrones, the new season wouldn't be out for a while yet.

Well, there was Hannibal...She had always been meaning to get to the second season of it. But that went back to her earlier issue. Eventually, Cecily finally managed to make up her mind and put on iZombie, feeling a bit nostalgic for grey Seattle skies herself. "Ever seen iZombie? It's about a zombie who eats brains and solves murders," Cecily explained, looking at Keystone for permission practically to put it on.

Keystone walked out of the kitchen carrying a their food and set it down on the coffee table. He took a seat on the other end of the couch from Cecily and handed her an actual, non takeout fork. Casually, he filled his and Cecily's wine glass and settled in for his meal. "Eatin' brains and solvin' murders, eh? Caught me an episode or two from Season One. Been meanin' t'get back to it, I have. DVR should carry everything up ta recent. Oh yeah, if'n you're still hungry, rest is in the fridge. Take anything y'like - this's your 'ome tonight."

Whereas Keystone was meaning to get a huge chunk of rest in preparation for the next day, he was almost positive that he would have to brew his morning coffee with Red Bull instead of water when dawn finally broke. He immediately scarfed down a ravioli or two and took a sip of wine, then raised a finger to indicate that he had a point to make as soon as a swallow could be effected. "You're gonna 'ave to explain some stuff as we go on, then."

"Gotcha," Cecily nodded eagerly, probably the most cheerful she had been for a while. "Y'know, it's actually really neat. The original comics had the main character as a gravedigger. They even do a nice tribute to that, with Liv using the alias Gwen Dylan--the original character's name--at some point...It's a DC comic, too, so technically the main character could meet Batman one day..." Cecily said, practically gushing as the episode began to play.

Yeah, it might be a late night at the Casa Keystone.

The young coroner's eyes were barely open at this point, otherwise she would've had a much more noticeable reaction to the protagonist of the show acting and dressing like a dominatrix. But as it was, Cecily was a lightweight and the wine had had quite the affect on her. She hadn't a clue what time it was and was hardly cognizant. Her head was propped up against the armrest of the couch, and by the time Liv snapped the whip, Cecily was fast asleep. No doubt she'd have some weird ass dreams that night.