Cecily, Caesar, & Keystone
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Location: Valentino's Italian Restaurant (Diamond District) -> Road to the Nuthouse -> Justice Asylum
Cecily's suggestion that Keystone possibly choke out the particular twat that was on the television, coupled with Caesar's sudden desire to make use of both himself and the company vehicle under his care, made the big man suddenly take this situation with serious, back-on-the-frigging-clock attention. He held his hand out to Cecily while nodding his head in the direction of Caesar, now quickly exiting the building.
"C'mon then, poppet." he spoke in urgent but understanding notes.
"Ride with me. Loads safer than the Boss's three-wheeled brain 'emorrhage machine, yeah?" As he spoke, he began gathering up the cloth serviette lining the small basket of bread at the table. He snatched up the ramekin of herb butter next to it, tied it all up like a little hobo bundle, and pushed it at Cecily.
"Oi, take this an' make for the door, k? Little somethin' for the ride out..." Meanwhile, Caesar was already pushing the door open and headed out to his trike. He had his serious face on, not that it could be readily distinguished from his normal face.
"Don't call me poppet," Cecily blurted, frowning at the Englishman, as she put her phone away in her pocket. It had taken her much longer to get over her fear of Caesar, but she hardly felt that Keystone could be much more terrifying than him. After all, Caesar was his boss for a reason. Aside from Keystone's capacity to crush her like a bug, the man didn't seem all too threatening.
"We're going to have to be much better friends for that," she joked.
Keystone had second of surprise at the young lady's sudden irritation at his informal way of addressing her.
"My 'pologies, Lil Miss. Didn't mean nothin' by it." Of course, her next line sounded just a little too much like a come-on for his comfort, at least that early into their acquaintanceship. All the same, he kept quiet about his suspicions. They had work to do.
She stood up from the table, making sure not to stress her shoulder too much, and took the bag of goodies from Keystone. If it wasn't for the fact that her shoulder was injured and healing, she would've hopped back on the trike with Caesar--but she figured it likely wasn't the most shoulder friendly choice she had available at that moment. Caesar had already left, and Cecily glanced down at her phone.
No message back from Roy yet--odd. "Alright, let's get on with it then," Cecily said, armed with the food and headed for the door. She wasn't a car type of person, so she had no clue what to expect from Keystone. She only knew that her own car--a now painfully neglected impala--was an impala because Dean drove one in
Supernatural. The broad man was leading Cecily back the way they she came in, exactly. Caesar's Harley was half out of sight, blocked partially by a black Dodge Ramcharger, the same one Caesar intentionally parked next to when they first arrived. Keystone remotely unlocked the vehicle as they walked up, instructing Cecily to
"Climb on up, Miss. Put on some musics if you like, yeah?" Climbing into the Dodge Ramcharger was an especially good turn of phrase for Cecily. It was nearly three feet off of the ground, accounting for just about half of her own height. But out of everything that had happened that day, she figured getting into the vehicle should hardly be the hardest task--
hopefully. "You don't need to call me miss," Cecily said, tilting her head slightly.
"Cecily's fine--or Ashworth, even," she added, as she climbed into the vehicle.
Caesar barely registered the two of them approaching. He didn't even look in their direction as he gave orders to Keystone.
"You protect her. Keep her safe. She's seen that bitch that Juno uses as an assassin, up close. I think it's who killed M'hija, but I've got to know for sure. Cecily's a witness, and good people. You protect her." Keystone nodded and gave a monosyllabic grunt of affirmation. Bodyguard work was bread and butter for him, and for just one evening? No problem. Of course, he did have his own concerns.
"Ey there, Boss? I dunno where the arse we're goin'. Soddin' 'ell, I barely remember which side of the street you Yanks use 'alf the bloody time. You want I should MapQuest it, then?" That last part had a bit more sarcasm than he had intended initially.
"Just try to keep up." "Yeah, Boss." Keystone climbed into the vehicle.
"I think our friend's 'bout to do something foolish." As Keystone climbed into the vehicle, Cecily checked her phone again. There was still no text from Roy, and if she wasn't already worried with her cousin and Proserpine appearing to be on a collision course, the lack of response from the detective was problematic in itself. Roy was always rather quick about replying, and she had to admit, she felt a bit proud about the Batman analogy she had used in the text.
"We're headed to Justice Asylum," Cecily said to Keystone, glancing over at him. She figured it'd be information useful for the Englishman, just in case something happened to Caesar or herself even on the way there.
"Yeah, Asylum. Thanks." he said absently, already placing the odds on having to break out the GPS. Caesar didn't give them a lot of time to buckle up and an adjust their seats, either. As soon as his helmet was on, the trike growled to life and he took off. It was a moderate clip at first, until he got out of the parking lot. Then he pushed the boundaries of the local speed limits.
"Bloody 'ell..." mused Keystone, maneuvering the stocky vehicle through generally light traffic, chasing down a highly motivated Mexican on a Harley-Davidson reverse trike.
Keystone had little desire to take his hands off the wheel for very long, seeing as he wasn't a stunt driver but seemed to be following one, but the tiny growl in his stomach threatened to get bigger if he didn't do something about it. Keeping his eyes on the road, he leaned a little closer to his traveling companion, requesting,
"Miss Cecily.... Bread me." He left his mouth agape for easier baked good insertion, though his eyes never left the road.
"Get that good butter on it, yeah?" Cecily wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to figure Keystone out, but at least he had acquiesced to addressing her
slightly less formally, by using her first name. That was a start, at least. She never especially liked being called by nicknames or more formal titles, an attitude that her grandmother said reminded her of her aunt. Those closest to her were generally permitted to use other names--such as how Riley called her
CeCe and her college roommate, Will, called her
Celery. "...Right. Breading you," Cecily replied, untying the "hobo sack" of bread and pulling out a piece. She smeared some butter on it as best as she could, trying not to laugh or make a quizzical expression as she put the piece of bread in Keystone's mouth.
"Thanks, love." said Keystone through mouthful of purloined restaurant bread.
"Aw, yeah, that's the good st.. BLOODY HELL!" The verbalization of his contentment was abruptly cut short as Caesar made a sudden and unsignaled change in direction. The larger vehicle was already in the intersection, and Keystone was forced to execute a near hairpin turn to keep behind the elder Mexican, who seemed equally as hellbent to get Keystone and Cecily killed as this mystery woman they were after. Tires squealed, rubber was most definitely left on blacktop, but the beast he now drove was built with stability and safety in mind; they didn't even fishtail.
"Oh, you cheeky fucktwat..." mumbled the huge Londoner, before snapping his head around to see if Cecily heard him.
"I'd be 'preciative if you didn't mention that to the Boss, yeah?" Oh hey! Bread me!" Cecily nearly dropped the hobo sack of bread, narrowly managing to grab it and keep it shut as Keystone underwent a near death defying U-turn. The scientist in her mused about the forces and changes in acceleration, but her more practical side was busy with keeping upright, one hand clutching onto the car door to keep herself upright. Although she certainly felt that turn, she couldn't help but note how smoothly the car continued to go. She couldn't help but wonder if it had been purchased with those sort of maneuvers in mind.
"That you called him a 'cheeky fucktwat'?" Cecily asked, before getting another piece of bread with some butter on it ready.
"Wouldn't dream of it," she replied, before handing over the piece of bread, placing it in Keystone's mouth.
Ten minutes or so left to go until they made it to the Asylum. From the trike and the larger security vehicle behind, both men wondered if they were going to make before their quarry left. Cecily felt mostly pessimistic about their chances. She doubted that Proserpine would need more than a few minutes to cause whatever chaos she needed, but at the same time, Cecily had a good feeling about their efforts, despite the odds.
Caesar's desire to get to the asylum in a prompt manner bore fruit in just under those ten minutes, giving Keystone a series of near-misses. He made a decision to park in the lot across the street, owing to the police presence and general sense of ordered chaos in front of the building. Uniform after uniform, looking very professional in their work. Caesar wondered how many of the people handling evidence were corrupt. He gave the scene a few seconds to survey the scene, which allowed enough time for Keystone to pull up alongside.
"How's about ya, Boss?" Caesar didn't respond to Keystone verbally, instead waving him out of his vehicle. He was more interested in the occupied body bag being hauled out of the building. The large man acquiesced, locking up behind him. Caesar looked to Cecily, blank of expression.
"We need in that building. Sneak in, or can you get us there, Cecily?" "I've got this," Cecily nodded, fishing her ID out of her wallet. It identified her as the coroner in Justice, just in case anyone did a double take at the tiny twenty three year old with no medical training taking over the crime scene. She couldn't help but smile slightly, despite the danger they were walking into, as she felt incredibly useful for once. Caesar and Keystone may have been skilled in combat, but she could science the shit out of things, and get access to crime scenes.
Heading over to the crime scene, Cecily didn't even need to flash her badge. The forensic tech on duty practically
begged her to take over the scene, and a few minutes later, it was officially her case.
"Alright. I need photographs and a video walkthrough of evidence done before you bag and tag. Measurements down to the centimeter on item location--we're doing this by the book, folks," Cecily instructed the forensics team. She gave them a bit of a look and a moment later, she returned her attention to Keystone and Caesar.
"They're with me, full access and whatnot," Cecily said, before stepping under the crime scene tape, and motioning for Keystone and Caesar to follow her. The pair of them followed; the elder Mexican doing do wordlessly, concentrating on the scene and parts beyond, and Keystone displaying his private security/inspection credentials (just in case).
"Yupyup, case related, ya frigs..." he rolled out nonchalantly, following up with a whisper of
"Thanks, Miss Cecily." The two looked a little out of place, surrounded by city employees and trailing the very young Coroner. Per orders, Keystone stuck close to Cecily, seeing to his role as bodyguard. Caesar, on the other hand, snapped into Investigator mode.
"Have an ID yet? And can you show me where it happened?" If nothing else, it might show him where this woman could have gone, if it was indeed her who did the killing. She had a long overdue appointment with her own disemboweling.
