[McCree shoots the dirt right in front of the rifle. Not so fast. He feels a twist in his gut he never thought he'd feel. Thought he put all the complications of Overwatch behind him and now they're rearing their ugly scarred-up visor-less head right in front of him and part of him just wants to get on his horse and git. Forget the bounty. Forget any of this.
He can't, though. He can't ignore it now. Christ... was Jack even aware of what happened to Overwatch after Switzerland went sky high, or did he watch everyone fall apart and say nothing to it? ...Like he did? Sure explains the dogged tenacity in sticking his nose in places they don't belong. Now all that makes much more sense. Some part of him is even elated he hasn't really kicked the bucket just yet. Some part of him is even envious he did a better job of it than McCree, but, McCree also had a slightly different methodology enacting his brand of justice. He wouldn't stick that in a grave.
McCree tries to think of a way to get his answer, maybe rephrase the question but he gives up and shakes his head a little, licking his lips. He doesn't need to hear it, satisfying as it would be. He already knows it and furthermore he knows he won't get it out of him.]
You piece of jack shit--[He's so frustrated he says the name as part of the insult unintentionally (though the insult is fully intended), and quickly adds on:] Jack-Shit. That's befittin' of you. [Jack-Shit. His new name.]
You know what--[McCree shrugs audibly and decides he's too old to be getting worked up about this, even if he really has every right, and holsters his gun with a huff.] I don't care if you want to put on a mask and keep your death.
[He tips his hat up, trying very hard to take back his laissez-faire attitude.] But you sure messed up my bounty. [He points his finger, practically as if it was his gun.] You owe me about ten-million.
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He can't, though. He can't ignore it now. Christ... was Jack even aware of what happened to Overwatch after Switzerland went sky high, or did he watch everyone fall apart and say nothing to it? ...Like he did? Sure explains the dogged tenacity in sticking his nose in places they don't belong. Now all that makes much more sense. Some part of him is even elated he hasn't really kicked the bucket just yet. Some part of him is even envious he did a better job of it than McCree, but, McCree also had a slightly different methodology enacting his brand of justice. He wouldn't stick that in a grave.
McCree tries to think of a way to get his answer, maybe rephrase the question but he gives up and shakes his head a little, licking his lips. He doesn't need to hear it, satisfying as it would be. He already knows it and furthermore he knows he won't get it out of him.]
You piece of jack shit--[He's so frustrated he says the name as part of the insult unintentionally (though the insult is fully intended), and quickly adds on:] Jack-Shit. That's befittin' of you. [Jack-Shit. His new name.]
You know what--[McCree shrugs audibly and decides he's too old to be getting worked up about this, even if he really has every right, and holsters his gun with a huff.] I don't care if you want to put on a mask and keep your death.
[He tips his hat up, trying very hard to take back his laissez-faire attitude.] But you sure messed up my bounty. [He points his finger, practically as if it was his gun.] You owe me about ten-million.
[Jack-Shit-Jack and Piece-of-Shit-McCree.]