[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar[/color] & [color=darkgoldenrod]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img][/img][hr][b][color=dimgray]Location:[/color][/b] Grimm, Indiana (Outside of El Asilo/The Nuthouse!)
[b][color=ff4500]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A 
[b][color=b8860b]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	The older Mexican heard the remarkably calm words of his daughter, and while he found the tone perplexing, he could not help but growl approvingly at the sentiment expressed by Alicia in the form of [i]"bombs are good"[/i]. He even nodded a little along with it. Bombs weren't his favorite way of handling things, being as he was really more of a hack and slice kind of guy, but even he had to admit that a well placed explosive, given the proper amount of legitimate artistry involved and the number of discernible pieces the bad guys separated into, was kind of pretty in its own way. Or to put it differently, in the recent words of his formerly deceased daughter, Bombs are indeed Good. 

	Communications concerning what Keystone assumed was an assessment of the works of a physicist that he was just barely aware of, let alone versed in the works thereof, were even less fruitful. be that as it may, the discussion of it, or at least commentary, served as a focal point for the large man's brain as a defense mechanism against the utter wrongness of what he was watching, that being the partial destruction of an exterior brick wall from the inside by something best kept in a horror movie. All the same, it still sounded like Alicia was speaking gibberish; that or talking from a point of view of the world's most inside joke ever. [color=b8860b]"Bloody 'ell that, Schrody? Pet-name-basis with dead blokes then, 'ave you?"[/color] 

	Though his words were aimed at Alicia, his eyes were rooted to the monster that had chased them out of the Asylum just earlier, that he was still pretty sure they should be hauling ass away from in the SUV that very second, but for whatever reason they decided to abandon logic and join the ranks of the nigh suicidal. Keystone looked to his senior partner in this endeavor with immense curiosity as to how he was taking this all so well. Then again, this was the guy who, if stories served to be accurate, killed someone by using their intestines as rappelling line, simultaneously escaping gunfire and getting to the next floor down in a crowded building. Something that looked a little Ancient God-ish wasn't as mind-throwing to a guy with a serious callous for mayhem. 

	Meanwhile, Caesar's thoughts were on (aside from the obvious, anyway) the comment that she made about the voice in Russian coming from inside of the asylum, as if she knew the person to whom it belonged and seemed pleased with the fact that said person sounded like she was getting the business end of something electrified. Well, for one reason or another, he wasn't going in there after this mystery person. Besides, the main threat was that big, ugly thing ripping apart the wall. So... fine. If nobody had any objections, he was going to open fire at it. It seemed fitting, considering all the trouble that it went through to be menacing and everything. And his junior partner, Keystone - what was he going to do, punch it? Caesar seemed to weigh this for a while. The guy was actually really good at that. Could be something there. Nah, shooting is better. He wanted to keep the big guy alive for his own interests anyway. 

	[color=ff4500]"Stone!"[/color] he called, chambering a round in his Mossberg, [color=ff4500]"You want to help slow it down?"[/color] It was less of a question than it was an order.

		[color=b8860b]"Yeah, on it, Boss,"[/color] he said, a hint of confusion and moderate amount of terror streaking through his words. In truth, he was glad someone else was calling the shots until his brain could fully process the moment. He raised his fifty-cal pistol and aimed it at the hole. 

	Both men seemed to be covering the all-female improvised demolition team, readily flowing into a supporting role. Though they began their careers as other things, they were private contractors now. This was kind of what they signed up for. Except the part about international conspiracy. And ancient, secret societies. And people coming back from the dead. And fending off demons. Okay, absolutely none of this is what they signed up for. Caesar should have retired a while ago and Keystone would have been happier playing Cockney Batman, beating up drug dealers and performing bodyguard work in London, like usual. But here they were. 

[hider=Roll Request, Caesar Gonzalez]
Characters current location: [i]Grimm, Indiana - Exterior Asylum[/i]
Characters attempted actions: [i]Shoot the bad guy[/i]
Any and all skills being used: [i]Shotguns[/i]
Why each skill is being called: [i]Proper operation of the pump-action shotgun, hopefully to insert a slug into the previously mentioned bad guy.[/i]
Desired location: [i]N/A[/i]
[/hider]

[hider=Roll Request, J. Keystone]
Characters current location: [i]Grimm, Indiana - Exterior Asylum[/i]
Characters attempted actions: [i]Shoot the bad guy[/i]
Any and all skills being used: [i]Pistols[/i]
Why each skill is being called: [i]Proper operation of the .50 pistol, also hopefully to insert ammunition into the bad guy.[/i]
Desired location: [i]N/A[/i]
[/hider]