[hr][hr][center][h1][color=ff99ff]Jaina Sarbye[/color][/h1][img]http://38.media.tumblr.com/dd3034a1a2dd0ebec5c14019d125487d/tumblr_nuos4itckK1r0a0smo2_r2_250.gif[/img][hr]Location: Justice Asylum For The Criminally Insane: the Ludwig Building [/center][hr][hr]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. 

[color=ff99ff]"Make new friends...and [i]break[/i] the old...."[/color] Jaina sang softly to herself, shrugging her shoulders as she giggled more and more. Cynthia had made an [i]amazing[/i] 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. [color=ff99ff]"I vot, v yeye kaliforniyskom debyute, Udivitel'naya Avrora!"[/color] 

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. 

[color=ff99ff]"Cheer up~! No one can steal your happiness, Cynth!"[/color] [hr][hr][center][h1][color=#99ccff]Iris Kingston[/color][/h1][img]https://68.media.tumblr.com/335ff1dfcb8f4f14605bd01e5f01432f/tumblr_mhjxq7jgZI1s4v93wo1_500.gif[/img][hr]Location: Heading To Justice Asylum For The Criminally Insane[/center][hr][hr]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. 

[color=99ccff]"Merde,"[/color] 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. [color=99ccff]"Where's my patient? Where's Cynthia?"[/color] 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. 
[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#00ccff]Cecily Ashworth[/color][/h1][img]https://68.media.tumblr.com/0813c0d92c658df7e265eb25f173e82e/tumblr_ojixdaMwz11twi2hjo4_400.gif[/img][hr]Location: the Morgue[/center][hr][hr]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 [i]hated[/i] 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. 

[color=00ccff]"Okay, calm the fuck down,"[/color] Cecily instructed, her patience and willingness to talk on the phone rather than text quickly evaporating. [color=00ccff]"I barely speak French, so say it again, in English."[/color] 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.

[color=00ccff]"Look, I'm sure she's fine...Yeah, yeah, I'll check in on her when I have a chance,"[/color] 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.