[b]Dojoville Bar, 10:00 PM[/b] [i]The door opened with a ding from a low-hanging bell inside, alerting the bartender of an incoming presence to the moderately full bar. The stench of alcohol masked the metallic scent of the cowboy as he wandered in slowly, brass stars on the backs of his boots clinking with each step he made up to the bar ahead of him. JT had his hat placed on the bar and he ordered the drink of the evening, a whiskey with two cubes of ice, before the bell rang again and JT sighed with annoyance. Approaching him was a lonesome woman and her two compatriots, either in a similar duster to the cowboy with the woman in a darker one than heaven he wore. They took their places beside the cowboy, all the whilst the blonde-haired female approached the other side of the counter as if she owned the place and started pouring all three of them a whiskey. The first to get the drink was JT, and the others got theirs after the woman grabbed the order from a minute ago and started sipping on it. "It's been a while, JT," the woman said, a sharp grin placing itself on her lightly tanned face. Her accent wasn't the same Texan tone that the Marshal always maintained, rather she had a voice without an accent to it. Beyond generic, if she didn't also have a distinctly smooth voice and deeper than usual words adjoining her slow speaking. She leaned over the counter slightly and put her elbows on them, tucking them inwardly as the man to JT's left removed his jacket. He was instantly recognizable by JT, as soon as the dragon tattoo on his arm was seen and the kevlar vest on his body was revealed. "What is this, a -blam!-in' family reunion?" JT inquired. He laughed in unison with the other man, Derek, and the woman simply stayed silent in her own glass. She placed it against the table gently, removing the duster to reveal a tucked plaid shirt and a pair of tight jeans. "You could say that," said the fourth and final man. This one was not quite as recognizable, though JT could tell who he represented with the coat. "Let's get down to business," the woman, Aveline, said to the three of them. "We know that Lopez couldn't find Maurice and Vaughn's dead. That leaves us four, Nat, and Anisha, yeah?" "Anisha said she didn't know anything." Derek reached into the pocket of his olive cargo pants and pulled out a black box, putting it on the desk in front of him. A small hologram popped up a foot above it, displaying a few text files. It zoomed between them, displaying hundreds of lines of information before it pulled up a picture of a slate grey flask. It had a red fireball imprinted upon it - A message. "Well, shit... Anybody know what this means?" Aveline asked the group, staring at the documents. The rest of the bar was either too drunk to notice or just didn't care. She was thanking the gods that the Dojoville denizens found this kind of thing to be normal, consodering the Dojo. "It means we're being hunted," the fourth man said. He pulled out a similar flask, leaving it on the counter. "Found this in Anisha's room last month, before I got here." "Y'all bang it out?" JT playfully asked, giving the man a playful tease. His relations to the female Marshal had been all he needed to recognize the figure as Benny. Aveline shot him a disapproving glare and Derek took a sip from his drink, closing the hologram and pocketing the box shortly after. "Not the time? Fine. Anyone have any leads?" The group noticed someone was listening in, however, and quieted down. [/i] ((Open))