[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=ff4500]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/22945f0b-6aea-4f8b-ba58-8e3c2790d559.gif[/img][hr][b] [color=orangered]Location:[/color][/b] Chicago (Church)
[b][color=ff4500]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A[hr][hr][/center]

	Caesar listened intently when Father Pearson began to speak of how he might repay the favor. He even leaned forward in his seat, so intent on hearing how he may settle up with the effort the man was making on behalf of his family's safety. Apparently, the return favor required a touch of explanation. Well, no problems whatsoever. There was the slightest bit of confusion as the monologue from the good Padre went into the history of the Catholic Church; roots in preexisting belief, accounts of details added or changed for ease of conversion, et cetera. These were things that he knew about in a vague sense, nonspecific except for one of the cultures of his own heritage. But it made sense. The Church was an organization as old as almost any other in existence, with a ton of influence both social and financial. 

	The intro to the favor he was about to ask actually reminded him of a dream he had, just a couple of weeks ago. He was standing in the middle of a moonless night atop a Mesoamerican pyramid in the driving rain, lit only by the epicly frequent blasts of rolling lightning which outlined a great hawk-like figure behind the cloud cover. He was bleeding and armed with two of his trademark machetes, dealing death with both hands as an army of things recognizable as once being human (but clearly were not, be it the influence of science or that of the infernal). It was to be his death, but it would cost them dearly. But all this was something that he had dealt with and processed for himself. The reminder of the Church's earlier influences during its earlier days was amazingly similar to its actions during the Colonial period, when much of his ancestry was converted. Well, the Aztecs and those who followed left their scars of the Church as well. Caesar knew that as well as anybody. 

	By the time that Father Pearson got to the twelve sided die, Caesar could feel his heart drop. The intent look was replaced by a feeling of apprehension, bordering on dread. Dice? Really? Was there any escaping this? Was he being led - [i]HIM, LED[/i], by something greater than himself? Was he put on some path for some specific reason that would not be revealed to him until it was thoroughly trod upon? Well, [i]fine[/i]. Down a winding trip into the darker aspects of his psyche, Caesar had performed the occasional clandestine wetwork (read: assassination). He preferred to know what his target was before engaging. Intelligence saved lives and made for a smoother job, in Security as well as... other things. In this House of the Lord, he could take a few things on faith. 

	But the second that the guy said "Juno", Caesar's eyes went glassy and bloodshot, and his hand made connection with his forehead in a manner most unseemly in polite society. It was quickly joined by the other and followed by by a sound that contained elements of both a growl and a sigh. It was not flattering. It was not pretty. The moment was horribly out of place for the situation, or any situation for that matter, without proper context. Caesar let that word run through his head a few more times. Juno. [i]Juno[/i]. [u]Juno[/u]. [b]Juno[/b]. God damn JUNO. 

	His head slammed down on the desk. Twice. Caesar contemplated a third time, but instead raised his finger, pointing to the sky. [color=ff4500]"¿Esto es lo que quieres de mí, Dios? De Verdad?"[/color][sub]1[/sub] This time, the growl had no trace of exasperation. He raised his head and looked to the priest. [color=ff4500]"Okay. I'm okay. It has been a very trying time since moving to California. If I knew exactly where to lay the blade this wouldn't be as big a problem."[/color] Caesar cleared his throat. [color=ff4500]"Yeah. Lunillud Aleae. Celestial Dice. Juno. Goddess and secret girls' organization. There is no escaping this."[/color] He exhaled a long breath. [color=ff4500]"You are helping to keep mi familia safe. What can I do to help you?"[/color] 

	

[hider=Translations]
1	=	This is what you want from me, God? Really?
[/hider]





[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=b8860b]J. Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/1777ea71-9790-410b-8f63-b0369a4c5644.jpg[/img][hr][b]
[color=darkgoldenrod]Location:[/color][/b] Chicago (MSS Chicago)
[b][color=b8860b]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	Keystone wasn't much of a knife guy. He kept one with him, though it was more of a utility item than it was a hard and fast weapon. When Claire mentioned that blades would be handy, the large Brit just shrugged. [color=b8860b]"Well, I ain't got a cross on standby, and holy water's not in our standards, yeah? But I do love me some Buffy. The series what followed, eh, not so much."[/color] He paused for a moment as he stuffed all of his goodies into a duffel. Just for the hell of it, he did take the keystroke recorder. Not like it could hurt anything. He did give a little nod toward the idea of getting himself blessed. Unfortunately, he wasn't the one of their group in a church at that point in time. That would be El Jefe. Of the two of them, oddly enough, Caesar was the one who was more in tune with the more Godly elements of society. The realization actually made him stop for a second. Keystone didn't know whether to laugh or stand there in confusion. 

	He did accept the St. Christopher's medal though. In fact, he was a little touched at the gesture. [color=b8860b]"That's a lot of 'eavy, Miss McManus. Many thanks, really. Truth on it, if I was anything at all, it'd be Anglican... yeah, but I'm like, 98% sure it's the same God. Naw really, thanks. Mean that."[/color] He actually smiled a little. Fine, she was the daughter of Irish immigrants (distantly, first gen, he didn't know) from Boston, and he was a steadfast East Ender Cockney from London - traditionally, their peoples were not the best of friends. This was America, though. Things were different here, apparently. And she used to associate with Adele, which was also awesome. And fought competitively as he did, though in India. He'd be lying to say that he wasn't impressed by the woman somewhat. [color=b8860b]"Look, you got my contact info, yeah? Lemme know if I can give you an 'and after you've got yours squared away. Or if you need a good sparring partner."[/color] He slung his pack full of acquisitions over his shoulder and began to follow Claire out of the armory. [color=b8860b]"Y'know, might be an idea gettin' me clearance for this office on our way out. Me an' Bossman might 'have to come back through this way, afters."[/color] 

	Moving down the hall, Keystone took the time to respond to Cecily's text:

[center][color=b8860b][i]Roberts Sec - Big Heavy of security biz in Europe. Based in England. Took over Wentworth contract for Justice Memorial same time MSS took over Queensguard RnD. Want me to look into it?[/i][/color][/center]