[i]It was dark in the apartment, as only one light lit the entire living room of JT's. He knew that he had electricity that actually worked, but he still preferred to use a candle on his desk to light the surrounding area. He sat in a wooden chair, a dark one that matched the dark wood of the desk flawlessly. On the table was a stack of papers, each looking as if they had came from the Wild West, though really it was just from s local shop that he picked them up at. Beside that, a picture frame. It was him, Lena, and their three children, all grown up. Lena was gone, so was one of the kids, though the other two were somewhere, living like civilians, living like a normal person, which they both were in truth. The cowboy stood from his seat, sliding the chair back slowly as he stood. He kept his revolver on the table and to the left of the stack, the gun loaded fully with .44 caliber ammunition. He wasn't expecting trouble would happen, so he left that on the table for the day. He walked across the bear-skin rug that rested on the oak floor beneath him, his brown boots clicking against the wood when he got to it. He didn't have his duster on, as he left it on the coat rack to the right of the door. He placed his hand on the cold knob, feeling the metal in his cold, metallic, silver right hand. His arms were the only augmentations he had left, as he swapped the rest out for regular limbs which, somehow, the doctors could regrow. He opened the door and felt a strong gust of wind blow past him, pressing against his tucked, sky blue shirt. It pressed against his muscular body before dying down, which in turn made the legs of his light brown pants push against his legs. He closed the door, and headed out. As he walked up to the Dojo's gates, he stared at either one intently, before he strolled inside. He approached one of the benches of the courtyard, he turned around, and he planted himself in it. [/i] ((Open))