[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 - > City Streets)
[b][color=ff4500]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A[hr][hr][/center]

	The intentions of the priest were still a little unclear to Caesar. He had this thing that was supposed to be a major artifact with possible mythical origins that apparently everyone was after. Had been after for thousands of years, apparently. Wars, big ones, were fought over and/or with that tiny dodecahedron and its eleven siblings. But if all he wanted was to be kept in the loop, now that he knew that Caesar was caught up in the quagmire that was the [i]Lunillud Aleae[/i] quest, then there was no problem there. That was the price for the message that might keep his family safe. It wasn't even a thought worth deliberating on. The older Mexican nodded and growled an affirmative, [color=ff4500]"Hmm."[/color] He reached out and grasped the Padre's hand, giving it a firm shake. [color=ff4500]"Deal. Gracias, Father. Let me know if I can help in any other way."[/color] He took a business card from the man's desk and slipped it into a pocket, exchanging it for one of his own. A custom that was beginning to fall out of use, but again more secure than pure digital storage these days, apparently. 

	There was the slightest air or relief around Caesar as he exited Atticus's office and made his way downstairs to the SUV, parked in exactly the same place it was earlier, as if it never left. Well, maybe not [i]exactly[/i] in the same spot. It did seem a hair crooked, one tire threatening to jump up onto the curb if the driver pushed on the gas a little bit more. Caesar tried to peer into the tinted windows of the company vehicle, but was unable to tell much about the guy behind the wheel except that he was a really big guy with short-cropped hair, an penchant for a certain British female vocalist, and probably was involved in some dalliance with the older man's daughter before her untimely death. Yeah, it was Keystone. As it turned out, the big fellow wasn't quite as skilled a driver as their Chicago contact, Claire. Not that it mattered that much to Caesar. It seemed that the whims of fate held his life, and much like the thing he was now questing for (aside from that Tinder asshole for some much deserved agony), it was a roll of the die most days. If a car crash was his destiny and not some epic end involving ancient Aztec thunder god and hordes of infernal creatures, then who was he to argue? 

	Caesar opened the door to the vehicle and slid into the passenger's seat just as Keystone was moving a bag full of mysterious goodies that he no doubt picked up at the local MSS office. He scoped out the interior of the SUV, noting the room it had and the possibility that they might have to use it for a convenient place to crash, depending upon what went down in Grimm and how long they were going to be in the field. [color=ff4500]"Plan has changed a little. Let's get out of here, I will explain on the way."[/color] He took a deep breath of the air inside of the car, noting the smell of MSG and starch. He realized that he was actually very hungry. His meal from earlier was still in there, the bag at his feet containing takeout boxes of Chinese food, and began to help himself. Through a mouthful of Lo Mein, he grunted out, [color=ff4500]"Grimm, Indiana,"[/color] and pointed forward. 



[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=b8860b]J. Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/54e5660d-eda5-47f7-b1d3-4ddcd0caaffe.jpg[/img][hr][b]
[color=darkgoldenrod]Location:[/color][/b] Chicago (Front of Church -> City Streets)
[b][color=b8860b]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	[color=b8860b]"On it, Boss."[/color] It was a simple phrase; one that he had used many times during his extended involvement with the company. Keystone was not some grovelling yes-man, nor was he anyone's toady. But so far as things went between he and Caesar, well... the guy earned the title of "Boss" a long while ago. In any case, heeding the direction of the old man, the large Brit put the SUV in gear and pulled away from the front of the church. And [i]yes[/i], he wound up jumping the curb in the process. But just a little. The event jostled the box of noodles that Caesar was busy trying to cram into his face, drawing a growl from the older man. [color=b8860b]"Sorry 'bout that,"[/color] he mumbled, merging into traffic. 

	Once they hit their first red light, Keystone plugged Grimm, IN into the GPS. The basic rundown of the directions got pretty simple as soon as they got out of Chicago proper, so this was really just a means of finding the right road to get them out of town. After a couple of minutes (allowing the old man to get the edge of his hunger sated), Keystone made direct inquiry to his employer. [color=b8860b]"So, eh... You was sayin' that the plan'd changed a little. How's that, then?"[/color] He was the man's partner in this epic, continent-spanning drama. He might as well be read in. 

	To his credit, Caesar was open with the conversation. He filled Keystone in on the issue with his (their) family, what he was doing and why he was doing it. He spoke of the Lunillud Aleae, which was not news to the big man, but the Church's new information about it definitely piqued his interest. Be it that it was his deal to make, Keystone agreed with it wholeheartedly. [color=b8860b]"You got a spot for them to land yet?"[/color] he inquired further, talking about his son and the others back in Justice. [color=b8860b]"I might 'ave a place."[/color] Be it that he wouldn't mind if they went someplace warm and sunny, with umbrella drinks and business owners that didn't ask questions, he did know of a place that was perhaps more practical to survival for them. But that wasn't the end of it. Keystone couldn't help but poke a little fun at the situation that Caesar had gotten them into. 

	[color=b8860b]"Wait, wait... You're meanin' to tell me that a representative of the Catholic Bloody Church just put the two of us on a epic fongin' quest to find an' report back on some magic doodads what's got powers keen on influencin' mankind, yeah? Well, innat bloody neat! Oi, tell me... tell me - Which one of us's Percival an' which one of us's Galahad? I'd make me a kick-arse Bors the Younger, I would! HA! Oh God, I was raised on that tripe. Lemme know if we find any spare Grails along the way, right?"[/color] 

	Evidently, Caesar didn't have as much of a sense of humor about it as Keystone did. Or if he did, he didn't show it. All the large Brit was able to see as he glanced over occasionally (being that he was driving at the time) was the elder Gonzalez, lo mein noodles hanging out of his mouth and staring daggers at his younger associate. A closer look might have revealed him gripping his chopsticks in such a way that suggested he had something very uncomfortable planned for Keystone. 

	[color=b8860b]"Sorry, Boss. Back on business, then."[/color] The company vehicle made its way down the crowded streets of Chicago as its driver and passenger hammered out an outline of their midwest itinerary.