[i]The Marshal turned and looked to one, his eyes conveying a feeling of raw power with a single glance, a stare hard and strong enough to put the fear of God in a man. He approached the sixth man and picked him up by the throat - His right wrist snapped back and a blade popped out, driving itself into the stomach of the figure. JT dropped him and he slid off the weapon. The next in line tried to run at JT with a bayoneted rifle, but he soon had the weapon's tip batted to the side, swatted like a fly. The blade found itself entering his head, though a second one came to the stomach. JT held in his left hand a rather strange weapon for someone like him - A dagger, ornate and jeweled with a hilt of bronze, almost like an Arabian blade. The wristblade extended into his arm once more and the hand snapped back; It reached into his duster and grabbed one of three blades, this one a long and blackened katana. Strange, but it had been a reward for the cowboy, and he intended to put it to use. He jumped into the air and soared, each foot into the air making his lack of humanity quite clear. He move swiftly but not gracefully, yet CE came clashing down and brought the tip of his blade into the shoulder trap of another man. One more had his gun raised and tried to shoot the cowboy; Each of his pistol's bullets plinked effortlessly against his chest. He slapped the fourth with the hand holding the knife and turned it into a full spin, slashing at his throat. The blade warped and extended, almost like it wasn't abiding by the laws of reality, as it cleanly cut off the head of the fourth. The last two, however, he left to his ally. He didn't want to keep all the fun to himself. [/i]

By the time the cowboy had finished taking care of those four thugs, the other two had long disintegrated; all that was left of them was their clothes, left entirely undamaged yet covered in ashes. It was like their bodies were burnt away with no regards to their clothing. Small blue sparks of sapphire colored flames could be seen in the remaining ash; flames that only damaged organic material. Finally, the man clapped his hands together, shaking away the ash that covered his arms, both organic and cybernetic. As he turned to gaze at the cowboy, JT might’ve felt like he recognized the man; after all, they’d met before, the man under the alias of Dean. “Thanks for helping clean up,” The man said with sincerity, then paused. “Wait, you speak English, yeah?” At this point, he could never be sure; he’d run into so many different foreign languages that he’d lost track.

[i]"Well I sure as shit don't speak Taco or General Tao Chicken," JT said in a sarcastic tone, looking over to the man. He never forgot a face - His augmented memory never let him. The blades found their way into his sheaths and he relaxed. [/i]