Owner	Pose
James Proudstar	It's a late night and the road is open. It's middle of nowhere Texas and there is a lot of it, wide open sky from low horizon to low horizon and in the distance you can see the light of the last Honky-Tonk before the border. Jim has info that this is a stop for a band of Mutants Traffickers a new group that's sprung up like a weed in middle America, scared parents selling children, stealing kids off the playground, and don't get him started on the toll to the reservations. He sits on the back of the bike his hands on Inez's waist, his grip a bit tight. There's tension in his body and not the good kind.     James has seen what these kinds of organization can do, he tracked one down all on his own before X-Force was a thing, he hates them and hates what they do. He may not have been the best choice for this mission but it's his intelligence. His eyes are staring into the distance focused on your destination. Thee's a small town, but only the bar is lit up in the night, has a restaurant and a gas station. Nowhere near the highway but it is within twenty minutes of the border if you follow the back roads and dirt trails.     James ourses his lips and tilts his head as he sees the place, "Isn't this a little busy for a die bar in the middle of nowhere?"
Inez Temple	Truth be told, Inez was down for the mission the moment 'dive bar in Texas' came out of Jimmy's mouth. Beating up racists? Well, that was just the cherry on top of the awesome sundae. And so she is, on a motorcycle with her blonde hair streaming behind her (sorry James!) and her Stetson hat somehow staying in place. Hat pin? Secondary mutation? Rule of Cool? Best not to look too close at it. As they arrive at the bar, Inez gracefully kicks the stand for the bike. She's not dressed any different than usual, daisy dukes and a flannel shirt tied under the breasts, but she's thrown a duster over it... More to hide her guns than out of any sense of modesty or comfort. She tilts her hat up out of her face with one knuckle as she eyes the bar, and nods. "Reckon so, Jimmy." She says with a hint of a frown, "Y' never know, though. Ain't much t' do in these kinda o' cities 'cept drink and tip cows... An' farmers get mighty irked if y' mess w' their herds." She swings her leg over the side of the bike, and smirks up at him, reaching up to pat his cheek softly. "Don't worry. I'll protect y', Warpath."
James Proudstar	James Proudstar grins as your hair flutters against his chest and his own darker locks also stream behind you, "You know I can give you a war braid if you want? Keeps the hair out of your eyes?" He watches you move with the sort of cool not unusual in young men, but his eyes do lingeras your leg kicks over the bike and displace the duster. He nods easily, "Why thankee kindly, Ma'am, that is plumb considerate." He gives you an pair of upraised eyebrows for appraisal of his country drawl. He's been working on it since he met that Blonde Hayseed kid from Kentucky.      James stands and slip off the bike, he offers you his hand, the cover is a couple after all and heads towards the door, "True, I never got tipping cows, they're big and mean and they just might stop giving milk if your annoy them enough... you think they'll be line dancing?"      The place is busy but it is Saturday night and like you said nothing else to do, but some of the folks don't seem like locals, is that German? And more than a few are sporting merc tats, some pretty hard core. You don't actually hear the record skip as you enter but might as well, ony the bartender saves it, the geezer smiles a few toothed grin and nods, "Howdy Kids, you too get lost looking for the highway?"
Inez Temple	"Well, y' ain't passin' from Texas any time soon, chief." Inez tells James with a shake of her head, adjusting the way her hat is laying on her head even as she rolls her eyes at him. If she notices his glance, she doesn't let it show, stretching slightly. On the topic of line dancing, Inez grins. "Can only hope. Been a mite since I went boot, scoot, and boogey." Inez says happily, giving the gravel a kick for emphasis before she nods towards the entrance... and takes point. Mostly because James would be hard to shoot around. She pauses before entering, reaching down her shirt to fluff the puppies good and proper. "Reckon' I'm just where I'm suppose t' be, partner." Inez tells the bartender happily, walking over and lifting one hand to rub the back of her neck... which causes her generous assets to threaten the structural integrity of the knot holding her shirt closed. "Y' got any whiskey? Feelin' kinda frisky."
James Proudstar	James Proudstar blinks and sighs, "It's the hair isn't it?" He presses it out of his eyes and does an intricate braid to keep it back in the time it takes to walk the last few steps into the bar. "Oh goodie." He says about line dancing.     You taking the lead does defuse the situation a little, as you speak to the barkeep he blushes just a little at the idea of your being frisky and couple of young buck at the bar make room for you to gather your drink but they do their best to exclude Warpath, who regards the drily. There are a number sharks circling and you can feel the testosterone rising as they try to face off with Jim, and he ignores them, which doesn't help matters. "Can you get me a bourbon on the rocks?" He makes eye contact with the biggest guy, looks a little like Dolph Lundgren and nods, "Inez said this place had the best whiskey in all of South Texas and she had to try it." Yep, that's the cod phrase, their contact should be making contact any moment.