aperture_high | LET'S HIT THE ROAD I WAS SO CLOSE TO PERSONAL GROWTH

LET'S HIT THE ROAD I WAS SO CLOSE TO PERSONAL GROWTH

[ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO...

Are you caught up? Good. We find our heroes having recently embarked upon a two thousand-mile road trip to San Diego (a real place) from Dorado (not really a real place), in search of experimental government technology. The plan is simple--horseback to the nearest hypertrain station. Sneak across the border, then commandeer a vehicle or perhaps another horse to complete the rest of the journey. Bust into an old Overwatch outpost, steal all of their shit, acquire a new tactical visor or something similar, and then part ways and he can go back to vengeance or whatever it is he's doing.

There is, unfortunately, only one horse, and Jesse McCree and his vaguely unhinged ex-commander are not exactly light or small (they are both tall and also kind of heavy). 76 is also more uncomfortable with the animal than he lets on, but that might just be because he's riding shotgun. Is that what you call it when you're not actually driving the horse, but are sort of behind the person driving the horse, in constant danger of slipping off the horse unless you hold onto the person driving the horse (which is unpleasant because 76 doesn't like sharing personal space and McCree is an unwashed hobo who still thinks cowboys are relevant)? Do you call it driving the horse?

Either way, this is uncomfortable--but not so uncomfortable that 76 doesn't eventually succumb to the fact that he stayed up the whole night before just in case McCree decided to bail on this operation. He nods off upright for a little, jarred awake every time they hit some kind of bump (which is often). Eventually, he slumps forward, conking out right against McCree. Probably the only reason he's not drooling on McCree is because he's put the face mask back on. The visor, however, is still totally busted.

Let dad rest.]

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I dunno', I think gotta' ask after you walked into my humble flashbang riddled abode.

[McCree shrugs loudly, seeming to take no offense or care to 76's grumpiness and eye-rolling.]

Even heard you beat some kid up with a piñata. I think it's fair I ask some stupid questions.

Edited (ñññññññ) 2016-06-18 06:08 (UTC)

[God is he really going on about that? 76 doesn't even want to begin to entertain a conversation about his botched encounter with Los Muertos. He guesses word gets around--McCree was just doing his research. What a headache.]

That kid was trafficking enough weaponry to make everyone in Dorado eat lead.

[So, he's standing by the piñata thing. He still doesn't know what LumériCo is up to, or if the unreasonable amount of firepower he tried to stop Los Muertos from delivering has anything to do with it.]

You got any other stupid questions?

[Might as well get them all over and done with.]

Guess I should be thankful you didn't use the piñata tactic on me back in the day. Mighty embarrassing way of a fight.

[Time to think of a stupid question specifically to annoy his company. McCree doesn't have to try very hard.]

What's your hat size? [Trick question, and,]

How many years are you pushin' now? [Actually curious, and,]

When's the last time you bathed? Don't think I can't smell you back there.

[Yeah, these are stupid questions and they tick him off (then again, not much doesn’t tick him off these days). Luckily, 76 has only asked if McCree had stupid questions, and certainly did not state that he would answer them.

He’s not going to answer them, but for the record: he doesn’t know his hat size, like fifty-five-ish, and though he can scrub down in water fairly regularly, soap is a little more difficult to come by, especially when he’s moving frequently. McCree smells like sweat and dirt and horse, so he’s really got no room at all to talk, because that's arguably worse than sweat and dirt and pulse munitions.

It seems more prudent to steer the discussion back to their immediate plan. He can see the little houses of the town in the distance, now (or at least, he sees a change in color a ways off that might indicate some kind of civilization), and he wants a pressing issue addressed.]

Hope you’ve got a place to store our gear.

[In broad daylight. While they have a great time in town. 76 is clearly concerned about his several dozen pounds of stolen experimental military equipment.]

Edited 2016-06-18 16:47 (UTC)

We'll find a place, relax.

[Easier said than done since McCree was effectively planning on burying their wares near the horse. That was really their best and only option at this point, other than paying a local to keep an eye on it and McCree's not inclined to waste time or draw any more unnecessary attention upon themselves.

Besides, they weren't going to be gone long anyway. An hour or two at the very most.

Which is exactly what McCree will express to 76 once they're within easy walking distance of the outskirts of town. There's desert intermixing with shrubs and trees. It's much greener over here and easier to hide a horse, especially if McCree tells her to lay down. (Which she does, because Betty Sue is doing double time for these two smelly unwashed hobos.)

McCree takes off his serape and bundles his armor, holsters, and one of his guns in it, and suggests 76 does the same with his mask, visor remnants, rifle and fatigues and whatever else will look suspect. They can roll that up like a wanted vigilante burrito and bury that with no risk of dirt getting in the equipment. McCree keeps one of his guns and tucks it in his pants and hides it with his shirt. Not perfect but too bad an idea to walk in completely unarmed.

Unless there's any objections, he's ready when 76 is.]

[He understands what McCree is getting at fairly quickly. 76 is still apprehensive that the flat landscape will make it easy for prying eyes to catch glimpses of them undressing and unloading, but he guesses they don't really have a choice.

The jacket and mask are his most identifying pieces of equipment, loath as he is to get rid of them. The rifle, too, is hard to part with simply because of the effort it took to acquire it, but he complies. Next is the equipment harness, the ammo clips, his jacket, his body armor. 76 unfastens his mask and pulls the rest of his headgear off with it, scrubbing out his hair. It leaves him looking mildly uncomfortable in a formfitting black shirt--short sleeves, high collar.

He keeps his sidearm as well. Can't be too careful. When he's satisfied with the arrangement, he nods.]

Lead the way.

[Because this is McCree's idea, of course, so he should lead; it has absolutely nothing to do with any kind of hypothetical visual impairment at all.]

[McCree tips his hat, obliged to lead the way. He can speak spanish and while he doesn't doubt 76 has--between all his world traveling past and present--likely picked it up, McCree also knows what they should be looking for.

First, some better clothes. It'll become a bit of a moot point after they're back in the states, but keeping 76's very fair complexion from getting second degree sunburns between now and then is a little prudent. Dorado is located on the bay so they've been keeping within moderate distance of the beach as they travel north towards the train station. This here's a little beach town and the first colorful shops they come across feature beach-appropriate attire. They get some obvious stares from customers and the shop owner but McCree's able to work his charm on the shop owner with the same hat-tip-and-smile manners.

76 still gets stares. Best to not mind them McCree whispers, and get what they came here for and leave. They should travel lightly--McCree picks out a new pair of shirt, pants, and underwear/undershirts for himself while he's here, then picks out a hat and offers it to 76. It's a sombrero because of course it is.]

Usually they go for more pesos than this. Not a bad deal.

[Yeah, maybe a little Spanish, so if McCree was at all thinking about calling him a pendejo he can get right out. 76 will kick his ass.

Following is a sort of uncomfortable activity, but this is McCree's territory and he's supposed to be laying low. The fewer people he interacts with, the better. He doesn't need 20-20 vision to know that he's being watched, so he sticks close, passing over the clothing for a few essentials (his selection may or may not include sunscreen and soap). It takes him half a second to realize that McCree is thrusting something into his hands. He inspects it, then shoves it back.]

I'm not wearing that.

[He's not. Get him a better hat.]

That sun ain't going to get any more merciful out there. [Damn it, it's not like they have a huge selection here to work with. He'll just have to try and convince him of something. A sombrero would also be, frankly, hilarious to see 76 in. McCree's motive's aren't entirely practical. Just most of them.]

Unless you're fixin' to borrow my hat [which wasn't happening] you need something with a wide brim that will keep you shaded.

[McCree gently plunks that beautiful sombrero on 76's head and smiles pleasantly.] See? Looks and fits fine on you.

[It looks hideous. That pleasant smile is just barely masking a laugh.]

Or show me somethin' more preferable that meets your very dignified standards.

Edited 2016-06-20 04:02 (UTC)

[Wow, it's almost like McCree isn't taking this seriously at all. Why does it have to be a sombrero? Why can't it be a wide-brimmed hat like the one he's got? 76 scans the little shop for some kind of alternative, but if there is something different, he can't see it. He knows that's a distinct possibility.]

You want me to wipe that smirk off your face?

[76 punctuates that by all but tearing the sombrero off his head. If they weren't getting looks before (and they were getting looks before), they certainly are now.]

Easy, easy. [McCree holds his hands up placatingly.]

It's just temporary. [The easy going tone never wavers from his voice but he does grit his teeth at 76 in warning, a subtle reminder of where they are and what they came here to do, and that didn't involving making a fuss about things.] It's a good hat. Buy it or buy another hat, that's all I'm suggesting.

[Hell, McCree would offer to pay for it considering he probably has more spending money than the two of them at the moment but he's not going to do so if 76 is going a grumpy jerk about this.

To emphasis the point McCree casually shrugs and leaves 76 be to do his own shopping, the sound of spurs becoming more or less distant as he peruses the rest of the shop for his own needs. (Small amount of dry-consumables for the road and cigars, pretty much. Cigars are very important.) Occasionally he'll break into spanish, asking the shop-keeper about the price of something he's not planning on buying anyway (or more earnestly, about the cigars--they are very important); he's just trying to dispel the tension/take the attention off the really weird bemuscled gringo with a jacked up face.]

Edited 2016-06-20 16:33 (UTC)

[76 knows he probably should follow after McCree, but is just angry and stubborn enough to not. He lets the cowboy wander off and get whatever it is he needs to while he makes his own selections. There's more squinting involved, but hopefully McCree is too busy buying cigars to notice.

Eventually, 76 finds his way back to the checkout where he plunks his supplies right down next to McCree's. There is no sombrero, but there is a hat involved ~~maybe it's a bucket hat, you know, like dads wear~~, more to placate his present company than anything else. He raises an eyebrow expectantly.

GUESS WHO'S PAYING, JESSE]

[The cigars save 76 from any ocular-related inquiries. For now. Once they're at the counter with all their adventuring swag of course McCree is going to raise an eyebrow back at 76.

There's probably an exchange of this, eyebrows up and down, up and up, along with extremely obvious eye pointing, head tilting which eventually results in McCree flaring his nostrils and shaking his head. You son of a bitch you're making him pay anyway. Fine. Fine!

So he pays for all of it, ugly as sin bucket hat included, and helps himself to the store's only (very very tiny) restroom to change. He's out in his new attire which really isn't unlike his old attire (currently rolled up under his arm)... only clean. It helps when the nearest shower is still at least a few days away.]

[That's right. Fuck you Jesse.

76 figures he's already overstayed his welcome, so instead of waiting for McCree to leave the (very very tiny) restroom and change in the (very very tiny) restroom, he heads back out to the horse, where he proceeds to un-bury all of their things.

He keeps the jacket off due to the heat, but puts his mask and the rest of his gear (and sunscreen, and his brand new hat) back on, already a little antsy from being separated from it. The rest of the time is spent bonding with the horse, he guesses. Maybe McCree will find him petting her when he gets back.]

Edited 2016-06-21 06:23 (UTC)

[It's mighty hard to sneak around in spurs which is fine because McCree isn't a sneaking around kind of guy. You hear the pleasant little jingle on those bootsteps and you better git unless you ain't guilty of anything. As such, 76 will probably hear him coming a while away. McCree's a little miffed he just up and left without letting him know (shoot, between his half-sleeping on the horse and buying his goods, now he feels like he's babysitting him. How the hell did that happen...). For a split second he wonders if he'd just do the asshole thing and take the horse and run off on his own (McCree would highly consider it). McCree reminds himself 76 wouldn't be going through all this fuss if he didn't need his cowboy expertise in crossing the border.

So here is the cowboy expertise, frowning, while Betty Sue looks well-rested and maybe a little happier than usual. As happy as a borrowed horse can look, anyway.]

Hat looks like shit.

[Well at least he's gone and done the favor of digging everything up. McCree re-collects his belongings and shakes out his serape. With 76 being so antsy to get back to the horse they didn't really kill much time. It's hot as hell out here.]

How long you wanna' rest before we get moving again?

The other one was worse.

[He hears McCree coming, of course, but he seems fairly occupied with getting to know Betty Sue (once he determines that yes, that is in fact McCree approaching). 76 did not, perhaps amazingly, have any thoughts about stealing the horse and ditching, and seems to be ready and waiting to go when McCree gets back.

He'll also maintain that a bucket hat is better than a sombrero, if only marginally.

But there are more important things to worry about, like whether or not they're actually going to rest, or just keep going. 76 is perhaps more than a little paranoid, tiling his head back in the direction of town.]

They had eyes on you back there.

[Probably had eyes on him, too, but he wants to hope that without the mask and gear, he's just some weird gringo with a jacked-up-face.]

Don't know if we should stick around.

Did they now? [McCree doesn't even try to fake surprise, he caught some of the lingering stares, the moves for the cellphones, the covered whispers; the subtle gestures he's long since learned to be hyper-aware of. He'd hope a town like this would pass him by but, well, that's life. He was pretty sure this was his fault and now 76 was going to be at risk as some weird gringo with a jacked-up-face accomplice to the outlawed cowboy.]

Guess it's time we make tracks then.

[Figuratively. Ideally they would literally leave no tracks but there's only so much they can do abut that on horseback. McCree makes a mental note-to-self to switch to sleek looking hovering motorcycle once they're in the states if it's any easy to come by; a real steel horse they'll ride. That'd be the way to go.]

I figure we can put some distance now that Betty Sue's had some rest. See how far and fast she can take us.

[McCree expects objections to his nonchalant attitude about things, but 76 can bite him. They'll be fiiiiiiine.]

Come on, let's saddle up.

Edited (the horse done died) 2016-06-24 05:23 (UTC)

Don't tell me you didn't notice.

[Of course McCree noticed, but 76 isn't exactly a fan of screwing around. Now they need to get all the head start they can, before calls start being made and they're either caught up with or intercepted. He's felt uncomfortably vulnerable since his visor was broken, but now there's a creeping paranoia in the forefront of his consciousness that he knows he won't be able to shake. Having to fully trust McCree to pick up on what he (quite literally) can't see coming sets him on edge.

But he saddles up without complaint, even if he still isn't very happy about riding horse-shotgun. With everything packed up and loaded on, they head off, and 76 is quick to voice his concerns.]

You know the terrain better than I do. Anyplace they might try and cut us off at the pass?

Well... [Frankly the current terrain wasn't much in their favor; once they gallop away from the palm trees and vibrance of the beach town, desert starts to reclaim the scenery, and at best they're somewhere between this and that.]

Not much coverage out here, but the same can be applied to them.

[So they'll be easy to spot and on such short notice McCree is willing to bet they will either rush in unprepared, or they'll track 'em and wait until they're tired from hoofin' it.]

Station's still about a day's ride north. Unlike us, they probably won't be on horseback. [So maybe trying to do double time to the station is a bad idea, he tries to imply; that would be there they might try to cut them off, and compromising their fastest ride out of this country would be a real pain in the ass.]

There's some ruins a little west of here. [He's half making it up--this was Mexico, there were god damn ruins everywhere. Things that withstood the test of time, the test of omnics and dilapidated stone buildings that somehow managed to look better than what LumériCo was plainly trying to imitate. Except when they didn't, but, hey, beggers couldn't be choosers now, could they.]

[Well, a day isn't so terrible, really, but a lot can happen in that amount of time. 76 is caught in an unfortunate position where he really should admit that he won't be as effective in seeing any potential obstacles coming without his visor, but there's a very proud part of him that doesn't want McCree to know. He hates the feeling of having to rely on someone, especially someone he's not entirely sure will be completely trustworthy.

So of course, he says nothing.

It seems like they'll have to take a detour, at least to shake anyone who might try to follow them out of town. West to the ruins it is.]

Keep an eye out. Let me know if you see anything.

[We'll all ignore the terrible irony in 76's phrasing. The duo make haste for their new destination. The sun is insufferably hot and McCree shares his water and rations while as they ride. By the time they make it to ruins (he was right! there's totally ruins around here) and get off the horse she's visibly fatigued. There's a few scant trees around (which the horse is tied under one of them), shrubs and grass but it's still mostly open desert, aside from the haphazard stone ruins which provide some better cover. Not the best but they'll have to make due. McCree's not going to bother with his stupid sandpit trap again when he's really not sure what they'll be up against. Not likely a single target.

Now they wait. Maybe they'll come at night, or maybe they'll brave the shitty desert sun too. McCree isn't keen on being in it any more regardless and also takes up a shady spot to rest under a tree.]

[To 76's credit, he weathers the journey to the ruins without complaint. He's already thinking ahead--who might come after them, where they might come from, what they might be packing. How they're going to deal with them between McCree's peacekeeper and 76 being secretly half-useless. He's pretty sure he can still point and shoot, but he knows he won't be nearly as effective.

The smart thing to do, of course, is to just come clean about the potential hindrance, but wary as he is, he just kind of keeps his mouth shut.

This continues as they get to the ruins and make camp, finding a relatively defensible position (or at least one where they can hopefully see people coming). 76 ~~pets the horse a little~~ helps, to his credit, gathering brush and wood for a campfire, and re-organizing their supplies (more squinting) before finally settling down to clean his rifle. Probably while McCree makes food.]

I'll take first watch.

[Maybe there will be more light for first watch.]

[McCree's making food! He's had to learn being on his own for so long. He's not uncivilized. That said, it's not exactly the lap of luxury out here; dry foods he had on hand along with whatever he picked up at their beachside pitstop. It's somewhere between soup and beans and ramen. Easy to cook on a fire and any extra water they can put into their bodies out here, the better. Now that the sun is setting it's starting to get more tolerable temperature-wise.]

Sounds fair. [He pauses. He's caught 76 squinting at stuff every so often and he wasn't really put much thought into and after a moment's hesitation shrugs and decides 76 wouldn't volunteer on risky business if he wasn't up to the task.]

You just give a holler if you have any problems.

[McCree's fine with resting. He's going to get cozy against a sleeping Betty Sue and put his hat on his face.]

[As the temperature drops, he puts his jacket back on, more than aware of how cold it can get in the desert at night. That's the only reason he even allows a campfire, but he does try to keep it small. When he's satisfied with the state of his rifle and sidearm and the rest of his equipment, he wordlessly joins McCree to eat, nodding in silent thanks as he takes the bowl. 76 slurps down noodles like someone who's mostly been eating nothing but caloriemates. Otherwise he says little else, making note of the spot where McCree goes to sleep.

He has no trouble staying away, but when it gets dark, 76 loses the benefit of a light source to help him make sense of smears of shape and color. He doesn't expect company right away (most likely they'll wait until they think everyone's asleep before making a move), but he knows it's coming eventually.

With the fire, he can make sense of the immediate campsite, but everything beyond that dissolves into blackness. He's used to it, by now, and though he spends most of the time in his visor, he still knows how to listen--which is what he does.

It's easy to zone out with limited vision and the dark quiet of the ruins, but soon enough he hears what he expects to. 76 can't see them, but he knows the direction of the footsteps. Slowly, quietly, he sits up and slinks his way over to the sleeping cowboy.]

Get up. Company.

[He speaks in little more than a low growl, nudging McCree roughly.]

[McCree, despite the looming danger, finally hit that sweet spot of actual resting sleep and doesn't immediately react beyond a disorientated groan and roll of his head. He swats 76's hand away and mumbles something unintelligible. He's not hard to rouse with further nudging, suddenly snapping awake and sliding the hat up over his head. He blinks the vision in his eyes awake proper and belatedly registers 76's words.

Company. Of course. He hears them too--footsteps that went silent at his rousing but still given away by the shuffling of feet on stone ground. Little hard to tell exactly where they were other than they were uncomfortably close--shoot, did 76 just wait for the lot of them to wander in?--so McCree gets to his haunches and gives 76 a nod.

All it takes is for a careless mook to break an old dried up twig to give himself away through the dark and shrubs, and that's plenty enough of a signal for McCree to leap to the side and place a bullet right through said mook's head. From there all hell breaks loose--but that's just fine with him.]

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5_rUdNENrQ

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