[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]http://media.giphy.com/media/wbomIbUs5Bc2I/giphy.gif[/img][hr][b]Location:[/b] Dockside
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	Caesar always did like riding a motorcycle. Now this means of conveyance wasn't exactly a [i]motorcycle[/i], persay, but it used to be. Even went by the same local laws governing its operation. The Harley Scorpion Reverse Trike he owned was originally procured for a gig in Seattle. A badass looking street machine that was more stable than a standard bike, accounting for the hills, curves, and ubiquitous wet weather present in the United States Pacific Northwest. He thought it was a little hokey at first, until he got used to it. Reliable machine. Handled like a dream, despite its construction, and even allowed Caesar to lean into turns like a standard bike while maintaining three wheels on the blacktop. He honesty wondered why he'd never thought to get one before. 

	It was perhaps going to be the only pleasant experience of his day; that ride out to the docks. The way things were shaping up, shit was bound to happen. If he was around, it tended to. So he was intent on making the best of it, not quite losing himself in the moment of pure, motorbiking enjoyment, but sparing no opportunity to really open the old girl up when it was presented. The engine fired off a well-tuned mechanical growl, not as fierce as the older models that Harley-Davidson put out back in the day, but respectable and sleek. The engine itself could massively outclass any of the old-school models. The designers just didn't feel the need to make it roar as loudly.

	All too soon, the venerable Mexican found himself pulling into the one obvious parking lot in the area. There didn't seem to be a whole lot of foot traffic, and finding a spot to park was a breeze. He ambled up a couple of spaces away from a familiar looking truck, curious. Carefully, he pulled off his helmet, letting the sea air waft through his long and seemingly perfectly conditioned hair, opened the front of his long coat (for ready access) and began stepping in the direction of his investigation. While passing the familiar truck, he stopped. A man was leaning against it; a man he knew. Or at least knew of. 

	Caesar remembered him from the party. Now, if he remembered correctly, one of his girls took an interest in him. Yeah, that's the guy. There was a touch of suspicion, him being in this place. Happening to pop up the very moment he began looking into the evidence he had just uncovered. Maybe it was a coincidence. Either way, Caesar had seen Lawson, and Lawson most likely had seen him. It would have been even more suspicious not to say something, now that they were aware of each other. 

	[color=orangered]"Orale, Smoker-boy!"[/color] he started in friendlyish tones. It slipped into something just a hair darker as he continued, his eyes involuntarily narrowing against the sun reflecting on the ocean in the background, [color=orangered]"Fuck you doing here, ey?"[/color] 

	Even if this was just a strange coincidence, it would put a wrinkle in what was supposed to be a quick and quiet look around.