[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/742397576704450560/gEkBVdZ-_400x400.jpg[/img][hr][b] [color=orangered]Location:[/color][/b] Morgue -> Valentino's Italian Restaurant (Diamond District) [hr][hr][/center]

	Caesar grabbed his newly claimed belongings and paperwork, then followed Cecily out of the morgue proper. It was a short walk down hallways, around corners, and right out the front door. His Harley Scorpion trike was just where he had left it, under a light in plain view, within the watchful eye of a security camera. The venerable man stopped in front the vehicle and breathed a heavy sigh. The past weeks had been draining, far more draining than he remembered anything being, probably in his lifetime. Physically, he'd suffered much worse and always came out on top. Emotionally, he was eviscerated. It seemed the only thing that kept him going was a promise made to his fallen daughter. That, and the sudden, unpredictable flashes of rage and pain that drove him steadily onward. He didn't want to lie to himself; Caesar was old. Much older than when he started down this path. Maybe he should retire fully when all of this was over. If he survived it at all. Perhaps it would be better if he didn't, so long as he took the sons and daughters of bitches responsible with him and there was no other loss of decent human life. 

	[color=orangered]"Hell of a day, huh?"[/color] he asked Cecily wearily. He mounted his trike and adjusted a mirror. He tossed his young companion the spare helmet, [color=orangered]"Hop on. I'm buying."[/color] 

	The next bit of time was spent cruising the streets of Justice, California. While not a leisurely pace, Caesar didn't seem to be gunning it to their next destination. They had some time to get there, as did Caesar's associate. There was the slightest of holdups coming into the Diamond District; it seems there was a minor fender-bender that needed to be navigated around, but after not too long, the unlikely pair found themselves pulling into the nondescript parking lot of Valentino's. 

	It was a basic-seeming neighborhood restaurant, nondescript in nature. Caesar pulled his trike alongside a large black Dodge Rancharger near the front and stepped off of his road machine, regarding the vehicle beside them. [color=orangered]"He's here already. Just going to warn you, Niña, this guy is like a sack of raw sugar: Large, White, and Unrefined. Good man, though. Alicia and me brought him into the company a while before any of this stuff happened, and a couple continents away. But he's an asshole. Just saying."[/color] 

	Upon entering the establishment, it was apparent that they were not particularly busy. The large man known as Keystone was sitting openly at the bar, facing the doorway. He had a glass of deeply colored red wine, swirling it gently and enjoying the nose of the vintage before sipping it lightly. It was almost comical, a man of his gargantuan proportions engaging in classic sommelier behavior. In his huge hands, the practice looked both clumsy and dainty simultaneously. [color=b8860b]"Right glad you could make it, I am."[/color] he spouted off as the two of them drew closer. [color=b8860b]"Name of Keystone, little lady. Table's that way."[/color] he said, jerking his thumb to point vaguely back behind him. [color=b8860b]"Mayhap [i]you[/i] can tell me a little 'bout what's goin' on whilst we're waiting on the breadsticks to arrive."[/color]