[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[center][img]https://www.trbimg.com/img-54da3b87/turbine/sf-danny-trejo-shock-pop-comiccon-lauderdale-20150210[/img][/center][sub][color=orangered][i]His childhood bedroom. Caesar sometimes comes back here to think.[/i][/color][/sub][hr][b] [color=orangered]Location:[/color][/b] La Hacienda 
[b][color=orangered]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	The central area was more alive than ever with food, drink, and music. Fresh fruit, seasoned rice, and roasted, sauced pork scented the air, touching the senses along with snatches of conversation in Spanish (mostly), alternating between sorrowful, serious, and joyous. The extended family had come to send off the jewel of her generation to the hereafter, possibly to a version of Heaven that more resembled a colorful, Mexican Valhalla. Considering the family's background, it was just as likely that the [i]Poderes Que Son[/i][sub]1[/sub] had to shuffle them all off someplace else so that they didn't take over the regular Land of the Remembered Dead. Their numbers were high and there was a hell of a reputation to think about. 

	In the midst of this, Caesar was beginning to honestly get into the spirit of the occasion, swaying in emotion from grief to laughter and many settings in between, sharply flavored with nigh trademarkable rage. The man had lost his daughter, and he was just now getting dealing with it in a manner that would have been deemed acceptable by the rest of his extended family. Spoiler alert: It involved alcohol and sharp things. 

	[i]...meanwhile, upstairs...[/i]

	Thalia sat back with wide eyes and a look of astonishment at the contents of the file in front of her. No more tricks, no more signs of dangerous code infecting her machine; nothing but cold, hard information on something that occurred years before her birth but somehow had all the earmarks of knowledge people would kill for. She knew one of two words associated with whatever bullshit this was that Caesar and Alicia involved themselves in, and both of those words were in this file. "Black Sunday... holy shit." Her voice was almost breathless with wonder, coupled with a sense of dutiful foreboding. "I think I know why Alicia died, if I can sort this out."

	[b]"You keep going into this, M'hija, there's no going back."[/b] Benicio gently warned. [b]"Maybe you should take what you have to Caesar."[/b]

	"I'm not sure what I've got here, Pops. This is huge. I need more time to look this over. Tio Caesar's going to have to see this eventually, huh? He's got enough on him right now. Let him mourn some."

	[i]...back downstairs...[/i]

	Caesar stood tall, a bottle of Mexican mountain booze in one hand and a blade in the other. He had a cigar hanging out of his mouth and his hair hung around wither side of his craggy face. Around him, musicians of every type gathered, their instruments in hand, each doing their part to play the Spanish language version of [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KZJiGu6Gz8E]"Wooly Bully"[/url] while Caesar half-drunkenly conducted them with his machete. 


[hider=Translations]
1	=	Powers That Be
[/hider]