[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#00ccff]Cecily Ashworth[/color][/h1][img]http://imagesmtv-a.akamaihd.net/uri/mgid:file:http:shared:mtv.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/olsen-hair-gif-1431123267.gif?quality=.8&height=281&width=500[/img][hr]Location: the Morgue[/center][hr][hr]Cecily grimaced slightly. She absolutely [i]hated[/i] getting her flu shot each year, to the point that she went out of her way to actively avoid it if at all possible. And the pain of a bullet in her was already enough. But splintered near an artery? That did [i]not[/i] sound like her ideal way to spend the evening. It made sense, of course, that there was nothing there to numb the pain. Corpses generally didn't feel pain when a bullet was extracted, after all. 

As Caesar offered her his flask, she shook her head slightly. The Winchesters might be able to swig down some alcohol and then undergo surgery, but everything she ever read indicated that alcohol and surgery didn't mix. While there wasn't the interaction of alcohol and morphine to worry about, the idea didn't sit well with her. She vaguely remembered something about bleeding becoming harder to stop after drinking. 

That, and perhaps a more important reason: Cecily was the lightweight queen of lightweights. Whatever Caesar kept in his personal flask, she figured, would get her absolutely smashed in about three seconds. [color=00ccff]"Thanks, though,"[/color] Cecily offered. She could tell the grizzled Mexican was doing his best to help her, and as he physically restrained her, she chuckled slightly as he asked about salary. 

[color=00ccff]"Just enough to buy comic books,"[/color] she joked, attempting her very best to be distracted from what was going to happen. She had tensed up preemptively, squinting slightly in expectation of the pain. [hr][hr][center][h1][color=#99ccff]Iris Kingston[/color][/h1][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/11d5b3724b97ab0d75e1cad345de4b7c/tumblr_n197plXseg1qfdldwo1_500.gif[/img][hr]Location: Justice Asylum For The Criminally Insane: the Ludwig Building[/center][hr][hr]Iris watched from her office door as the orderlies went to fetch Cynthia. She tugged on her hair as the ensuing fight broke out, which landed Cynthia in a straight jacket, bleeding. But while some psychiatrists at the asylum would see no issue in this, Iris could not feel the same. The violence struck her as unnecessary for a halfway house. She grimaced slightly, but as Cynthia smiled at her, she did her best to smile back. 

[color=99ccff]"Valentine, I was hoping we could talk about another friend of yours,"[/color] Iris opened warmly, moving to sit down at her desk, with Cynthia across from her. The orderlies remained at the door, and Iris shot a quick glare at them, and they simply closed the door. [i]Typical.[/i] She put the file away in her drawer, thinking for a moment as to how to phrase this. 

[color=99ccff]"In Seattle, you made a new friend,"[/color] Iris began. [color=99ccff]"Could you tell me what you like about her?"[/color] Truthfully, it didn't matter so much who this Jenny Green was. The psychological ramifications of Cynthia bonding with this moment are what truly mattered to Iris. And if Cynthia could describe what she liked about this woman, whom Iris assumed she had taken the moniker Valentine from, then she would be able to treat her patient.