[He doesn't reply, rather holds out the can and summoning a small fire a few inches from the nozzle. The cowboy notices this and in a panic, shoots at the canister. While it does crack open and spill gross black paint all over Mohammed's nice clothes, he's too late in stopping the fire from reaching his face and hat.]
[Mohammed has no weapon on him other than the knife, which is pulled out and held defensively in front of him. He can just run forward, stab the guy while he's on fire. It should be easy.
He's frozen to the spot, holding the knife out uselessly as the cowboy fires his gun in a random direction while patting down his shirt with his hat.]
Right! [Right, okay. He can do this. Other!him fought monsters with this stupid thing. What's one guy with a gun who can't even see? So while Mohammed holds the line of defense, John rushes forward and dodges another bullet, bringing the hammer up and swinging straight down on the guy's head. Hopefully that did it.]
[The bullet twists around and heads towards John, but with the hit to the head, it disappears into thin air. The cowboy falls to the floor, his head twists away and rests in a dark red stain on the ground.
[...that's a little startling and he stands still for a moment while he stares at the cowboy. Even as everything dissolves and the fog rolls away he continues to stare.]
...you okay? [Despite the fact he's not looking, that's to Mohammed.]
[The fog thickens around the two (and the possibly dead cowboy), turning everything more than a foot away from their faces white. Mohammed nods.]
Better than I was expecting. [He had hoped he could come out of this calm. He could have killed an actual man. He did in his old life, he's certain of it.]
What about you?
[The fog moves onto the next neighborhood, taking the cowboy with it.]
I have my hammer. And my roommate would probably flip out if I did not come home tonight. [There's a reassuring grin.] I promise I will be careful on the way home. It's not far.
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Holy shit. [He'll just step back and let the cowboy light on fire, eyes wide and hammer still in hand.] Nice aim.
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[Mohammed has no weapon on him other than the knife, which is pulled out and held defensively in front of him. He can just run forward, stab the guy while he's on fire. It should be easy.
He's frozen to the spot, holding the knife out uselessly as the cowboy fires his gun in a random direction while patting down his shirt with his hat.]
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The fog begins to move away.]
...We actually did it.
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...you okay? [Despite the fact he's not looking, that's to Mohammed.]
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Better than I was expecting. [He had hoped he could come out of this calm. He could have killed an actual man. He did in his old life, he's certain of it.]
What about you?
[The fog moves onto the next neighborhood, taking the cowboy with it.]
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I'm okay. We should probably get out of here though just in case.
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Are you alright with staying over at my house?
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Find a friend. Don't walk down the streets alone, understood?
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Yes sir. I promise I'll be fine.