[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][/center][hr][hr][center][b]Location:[/b] DTB Fade Between
[b]Skills:[/b] N/A [/center][hr]

	Somehow, inner reserves of rage welled up within the aging form of Caesar Gonzalez, taking the metaphysical form of righteous indignation at the fact that, despite winning the battle (didn't they?), something had befallen those he cared about. Again. Where his daughter had gone off to this time was beyond him, and his ...associate? Kinda son-in-something? Ah! Cockney father to his grandchild. Yes, that might suffice for the time being. Well he was gone too, as if God had taken an eraser to them both. And when he had just gotten Alicia back, as well. These acts of divinity were prone to stabbing it in and breaking it off recently. But something told him that there was so much more going on. Perhaps this is all some sort of point-of-view problem. Or perhaps this huge chunk of masonry and car door was pissing him off and must therefore die. That was at least a problem he could solve. And how. 

	Caesar reached deep, growling obscenities in a shocking lower register, as if supplicating old world deities named [i]Mierda[/i] and [i]Chingados[/i], drawing explosive power from the utterance of their WORD and force of intent. Mortared stone, concrete, reinforcing bars, and a single, errant car door leapt away from him as he sprung fully into a standing position, shotgun in one hand and hair blowing in a breeze that only seemed to touch him, his eyes alight with an ancient and terrifying aspect. His growl was the stuff that gave nightmares nightmares. He was Primal Caesar; force of nature. And tacos.  

	But whatever power he wielded was nothing against the tide of change around him. The world in which he stood became as a sandy, rocky, hazy Purgatory, and the people around him shifted, some fading out as others faded in. But as it was, they were known to him. He had seen them recently. Two of them he even shared a street with, blockmates or some such title invoking that sense of familiarity. Caesar had come geared to the nines for a fight. A battle, even. Lord knew he was dressed for it and carried enough sharp implements and munitions, but this was not a battle he appeared amidst. This was nothingness, with people he knew only by acquaintance. No loved ones, no trusted advisers, no able Lieutenants. 

	Perhaps only because he expected to be dead right now, did he accept the surroundings provided him. Maybe it was shock that would wear off, leaving him shaken to his core. But for right now, he looked at the people around him, and thought on regarding their names.