[McCree kicks away a small pistol that was already well out of the kid's reach, just to be safe and remind him he's in no position to do anything right now. The kid squirms on the ground and hisses in Spanish at the cowboy.]
You piece of shit. My fucking knee...!
[McCree shrugs with a crooked smirk, not terribly sympathetic. He even eyes the wound with a vague sense of pride he hit that little thing dead on from his distance, half in the dark.] Yeah it's pretty broken I'd say. [Broken knee was painful as hell but not the worst he could have done.]
What are you waiting for then? [The kid hisses again, sand sticking to the side of his face for how badly he was sweating out of misery.] Do it. End it. You and your psychopath friend. [76 gets a particularly nasty glare before his eyes wildly dart back to McCree and his Peacekeeper.] Do it fast.
[Begging for death? Not McCree's style. He raises his hand placatingly, as placatingly as a robotic hand can look while the other is still holding a revolver.] Hold your horses there, kid. Ain't got but a few questions for you first.
[Sure would be nice to put a name to this little gang out here, just for information's sake. McCree starts looking for tattoos and finds one on the kid's ankle. He rolls said ankle with the tip of his boot to get a better look at a stylized goat-sucker monster as a gang symbol, complete with matching label.] Chupacabras? [McCree snorts, points the gun at the kid as if it were a 6th finger.] This the whole ensemble or is this going to end with you?
No... I have two brothers. They didn't want to come. They weren't ready. Weren't strong enough.
[To which McCree asks in a low, slow drawl.] Are they going to come?
If I die, they will. They will kill you.
[McCree shrugs again and looks to 76 as additional consult. Or if maybe he had any questions on his mind before they figure out what to do with the kid. McCree wasn't a fan of unnecessary killing these days, no more than he was leaving blatant and dangerous loose ends.]
no subject
You piece of shit. My fucking knee...!
[McCree shrugs with a crooked smirk, not terribly sympathetic. He even eyes the wound with a vague sense of pride he hit that little thing dead on from his distance, half in the dark.] Yeah it's pretty broken I'd say. [Broken knee was painful as hell but not the worst he could have done.]
What are you waiting for then? [The kid hisses again, sand sticking to the side of his face for how badly he was sweating out of misery.] Do it. End it. You and your psychopath friend. [76 gets a particularly nasty glare before his eyes wildly dart back to McCree and his Peacekeeper.] Do it fast.
[Begging for death? Not McCree's style. He raises his hand placatingly, as placatingly as a robotic hand can look while the other is still holding a revolver.] Hold your horses there, kid. Ain't got but a few questions for you first.
[Sure would be nice to put a name to this little gang out here, just for information's sake. McCree starts looking for tattoos and finds one on the kid's ankle. He rolls said ankle with the tip of his boot to get a better look at a stylized goat-sucker monster as a gang symbol, complete with matching label.] Chupacabras? [McCree snorts, points the gun at the kid as if it were a 6th finger.] This the whole ensemble or is this going to end with you?
No... I have two brothers. They didn't want to come. They weren't ready. Weren't strong enough.
[To which McCree asks in a low, slow drawl.] Are they going to come?
If I die, they will. They will kill you.
[McCree shrugs again and looks to 76 as additional consult. Or if maybe he had any questions on his mind before they figure out what to do with the kid. McCree wasn't a fan of unnecessary killing these days, no more than he was leaving blatant and dangerous loose ends.]