[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=ff4500]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/9ab05f4c-ae5c-45b6-b866-1297e56e2118.jpg[/img][hr][b] [color=orangered]Location:[/color][/b] Chicago (Grimaldi Books)
[b][color=ff4500]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A[hr][hr][/center]

	The "fishes" comment invoked a grim chuckle from Caesar. [color=ff4500]"...Yule Brenner..."[/color] he mused. The scene from the movie that she quoted was supposed to be indicative of a powerful king demonstrating a more balanced side of himself and the ability to change. Caesar couldn't help but wonder if it was supposed to be a crack at his expense or if she was just a fan of "The King & I". Regardless of motivation, questioning it would profit him absolutely nothing. The meat of the comment raised a eyebrow, though. Adelaide might have meant well, but her statement didn't seem to really touch on his present situation. 

	[color=ff4500]"Trust..."[/color] he began, trying to phrase his words carefully, [color=ff4500]"Nothing says you can't take my money and feed me bullshit after I go. Someone trying to lie to me would be nicer to my face. Asking you to do the research yourself is trust."[/color] It was trust of a sort, anyway. That and, if he were honest, Caesar wasn't exactly a "library" kind of guy. Especially not an unfamiliar one. He looked down at the numbers that she set in front of him, observing, [color=ff4500]"It looks like [i]trust[/i] costs extra."[/color] Technically, it wasn't the most fair of statements. She would be the one performing a service, albeit one that she seemed to be charging twice for - once for access to her personal library where she had to act as guide to locate anything within, and once again to read what she found that was relevant to the matter at hand. But that thought was off topic just a hair. [color=ff4500]"It's your security provider I refuse to trust. You are just running a business. I hope with all this [i]trust[/i] I'm buying, you can throw in some privacy."[/color] He was using that word a lot today, "trust". It seemed to devalue the meaning, somehow. 

	Caesar picked up his satphone and switched to a messaging app, sending a one word summons to his associate outside. He eyed the other man in the room even as he completed his thought to Adelaide, [color=ff4500]"It's no one's business what I'm doing here. Especially theirs."[/color] The older man took up the legal paperwork and prepared to fill them out. With witness, of course. 






[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=b8860b]J. Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/d59e2477-009c-4f0b-9cca-0698f0914b67.jpg[/img][hr][b]
[color=darkgoldenrod]Location:[/color][/b] Chicago (Outside of Grimaldi Books -> Inside of Grimaldi Books)
[b][color=b8860b]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	The ever black hole of Keystone's appetite was blunted somewhat after the first box of MSG laden food went down like a trooper. He did have a thing for Chinese food, even the Americanized stuff that one was forced to consume in this part of the world. If nothing else, it reminded him of his time spent abroad, learning things that no one in his stomping grounds had ever been exposed to. It was a fine period of his life. It even established a big part of who he was; not just some massive, ham-fisted brawler from London's East End, but a cunning, dexterous combatant that brought a lot more to the table than mere physical strength. Technique, insight, and agility uncommon in a man his size. Not to mention a much broader horizon, philosophically speaking. 

	Eating proficiently with sticks, too. Lest he forget, that was something that set him apart from the people with whom he grew up. So, one box down. Before he destroyed everything else with his almost legendary off-day appetite, he figured on giving Caesar an opportunity to change his mind about eating. A box of rice would suffice for the present. A bit of sesame and soy in first, and his tiny sticks were wielded with technique generally unseen among the [i]gweilo[/i]. 

	As he powered through the takeaway box (albeit with less fervor), he followed up on Claire's personal experiences with people doing awful things for what they perceived was the right reason. [color=b8860b]"Y'know, some things are right at black and white, what with perspective, yeah? When I got ring-up to be on a bloody airplane to California in two hours, I was beatin' a man slap to death with his own mate. Swung that bastard like a proper cricket bat, I did, after using his bollocksack for an 'eavy bag. If they ain't dead, they're still in the 'ospital. And that one bloke's gonna get a ton o' offers to sing with the Vienna Boys' Choir, so that's good on 'im."[/color] He stopped speaking for a moment to set upon a particularly troublesome clump of starchy goodness, then continued, [color=b8860b]"What I did was brutal. Extreme brutal. Here's the thing: Two o' them was sellin' new designers, eh pills? Custom drugs what ain't on the police register yet, and they was pushin'em out back of a school a friend of mine's kids go to. Wheels of Justice spin slow sometimes, and deaths already 'appened on account o' them pills. Cops can't do nothin' yet, but I'd bet my second-favorite kidney them fucksticks ain't sellin' nothin' to them kids anymore."[/color] 

	[color=b8860b]"Sometimes, what's [i]right[/i] ain't what's [i]nice[/i]. Sometimes it ain't even what's legal. There's a line in the bloody sand, and it's way past 'grey area'. You gotta be a little darker, just to make sure it stops. [i]Just to make sure nobody crosses that line again for a long, long time.[/i] Ya get me? People with the power to do so need to do it for them what don't. Long as you can claw your way back from the black, afters. That's why we're needin' people like El Jefe in the world. The..."[/color] 

	Keystone looked like he had more to say, but instead he quickly retrieved his company satphone from his pocket and viewed the summons, [color=orangered][i]Inside[/i][/color], from Caesar. [color=b8860b]"Bein' paged."[/color] He opened the door to the security vehicle and set his yummy foodstuffs inside, then answered the call of his employer by returning to the bookstore. 

	[color=b8860b]"Yeah, Boss?"[/color] 

		[color=orangered]"Need witnesses."[/color] He was holding up papers. The setup seemed pretty standard. 

	[color=b8860b]"Yeah, Boss."[/color]