[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#00ccff]Cecily Ashworth[/color][/h1][img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/07b6c29ff7661d7eb7b4d26d89632905/tumblr_inline_nvc19tHSzv1qlt39u_500.gif[/img][hr]Location: the Morgue[/center][hr][hr]Any reservations that Cecily had about Natasha melted away. She couldn't begin to imagine the pain and trauma of cancer. She worked in forensics for a reason: what's dead had already died. There was no fear, no pain, no uncertainty as to whether or not someone would still live. [color=00ccff]"I'm so sorry,"[/color] Cecily squeaked, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to Natasha, leaning forward. [color=00ccff]"We had an armed assault just a week ago or so, left me a bit paranoid...Are you sure you're okay to work?"[/color]

She followed Natasha over to the bodies, handing the woman a scalpel. She liked Natasha more and more by the minute, enjoying someone who seemed to be honest and capable in Justice for once. [color=00ccff]"Consider myself ready to cram for a midterm,"[/color] Cecily joked a bit, smiling. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out, glancing at the text from Riley. Quickly, her fingers dashed across the keyboard as she sent one in return.

[center][color=00ccff][i]Corpses, blood, murder. Y'know, the usual. See you at home soon?[/i][/color][/center]
Admittedly, she had grown a bit weary of hiding out in Roy's bachelor pad. And it felt silly, until he was shot and didn't come back, telling her to go somewhere safe. The prospect of going home and sleeping in her own bed couldn't have been more enticing. Caesar lived in the Boston Heights as well. Maybe he'd be willing to protect Riley as well, though his grieving process likely hadn't finished. She put her phone away in her pocket, before returning her attention to Natasha and the corpses. 
[hr][hr][center][h1][color=ff6600]Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway[/color][/h1][img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/b63a9cade494afd067aa00ec2ed46c61/tumblr_inline_mfhw6l2nVc1rcntul.gif[/img][hr]Location: Imperial Apartments 4C[/center][hr][hr]Tuesday shook her head slightly at Ronnie's answer. She knew that he'd been trying to be sober a bit more, and she could understand it, mostly. Drugs tended to reduce mental clarity, not add to it. She tapped her fingers against the table, thinking through her limited storage. [color=ff6600]"Well, only shit I've got is heroine,"[/color] Tuesday admitted. [color=ff6600]"Her name is...."[/color] Tuesday paused, trying to think of the name. [color=ff6600]"Cathy Charlotte Constance....Something like that. You could probably google it if this,"[/color] [i]whack[/i], [color=ff6600]"stupid thing,"[/color] [i]whack[/i] [color=ff6600]"would work!"[/color] She hit the keyboard with her hand again, only for the computer to practically taunt her, saying that Microsoft Word wasn't responding. She groaned a bit, tugging on the skin underneath her eyes. Tuesday lacked the money to replace it, and she didn't feel comfortable with profiting off of her sister's fame. Otherwise, she could've just done a "tell all" about growing up with the famous Riley fucking Ridgeway. 

Her frustration only had increased, of course, since Ronnie confirmed her fears. Marc Tinder was in town, and Tuesday went over to the loose floorboard her stash was concealed underneath. Pulling out the bag filled with drugs, she tossed them over to Ronnie. [color=ff6600]"Keep this shit safe and if he asks, I'm a model citizen, yeah? Marc Tinder isn't someone to mess with--we went to fucking Murder High together."[/color]

She hit the computer again, and this time, Internet Explorer pulled up. She quickly typed in a simple search, and stepped aside, letting Ronnie see the results that turned up. [color=ff6600]"Forensics in Justice should pull something up...Other than a shit ton of murder cases."[/color]