[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]http://cdn.movieweb.com/img.news.tops/NEvyrxPbk7zLyD_2_b/Inmate-Number-1-Movie-Danny-Trejo-Documentary.jpg[/img][hr][b] [color=orangered]Location:[/color][/b] La Hacienda 
[b][color=orangered]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A[hr][hr][/center]

	The nature of Caesar's patience was such that, despite the abundance of disrespect being flung in his direction in his own house, he did not delve into his baser nature and do horrendous things with sharp, painful objects. Not to say that the thought didn't flash through his mind, but it was just for the [i]briefest[/i] of moments. For another, also briefest of moments, Caesar contemplated whether it was a healthy practice for his thought process to instinctively go there first; mutilation and death. The proper application of violence had served him well over the course of his respectable lifetime. Too well, in fact. But it had also cost him many things. One of which was his ability to interact properly in most social settings that did not require the capacity to intimidate. And his reputation? His family was one thing. They all grew up hearing stories about him, his brother, and other notable members of La Familia. But people like Cecily? Natasha (if she [i]was[/i] on the level)? Maybe it was best that people like him were a product of a bygone era. 

	[color=orangered]"I have insulted you, and shamed the memory of my beloved daughter on the night of her viewing. I apologize."[/color] His voice was gravelly, low in tone as usual, but there was a distinct sadness to it. [color=orangered]"This file contains my personal history up until seven months ago, when I first came to Justice. It is everything publicly accessible, and a few things that take some effort. No contract information. Nothing that compromises my family. Some of it had been redacted by the American and Mexican governments. But it's me with a little more detail than I know about you, now. You and Cecily look it over. Maybe it will help you understand why I do what I do."[/color] 

	[color=orangered]"Again, I apologize. The hospitality of my house is yours if you want it."[/color] Caesar looked past Natasha to his other houseguest, [color=orangered]"The offer I made in your office still stands, Cecily. Think about it."[/color] Caesar lowered his head, nodding slowly, and went to return to the viewing below. 

	[i]Meanwhile, at the main gate...[/i]

	Benicio thanked the messenger as he left. There was an amount of curiosity that bit into him concerning the nature of the envelope and what it might contain, but the odd way in which it came to him prompted a bit of discretion. Instead of opening immediately and sating his growing inquisitiveness, he tucked it into his jacket and left the area, bound for less open environs within. He too had private rooms in La Hacienda, and intended to utilize them for that reason - privacy. 

	[i]Meanwhile, even elsewhere...[/i]

	There was a genocide of many tamales and accompanying sides in an otherwise quiet room. The scent of cumin and cilantro hung heavy in the air as the rampant murder of perfectly peaceful local cuisine met its dramatic, gnawing end. For Thalia, it was mealtime. For tamales, it was the apocalypse.