[ Yeah, that seems about right. McCree laughs, but it's not mocking; it's warm, and very gently amused. ]
I hear you. No offense, pard, but you strike me more as the sorta fella who fights with a keyboard. Not so much with a fist.
[ He leans back against the barrel, shaking his head. ]
Nothin' wrong with that, mind. But in times like these, you got to rely on more basic weapons. Fortunately, [ he gestures to Rhys's robo-hand ] you got a bit of a leg-up. Or, yanno, hand-up. More precisely.
[ Har. ]
Now you just need to show me some killer instinct. Go on. Take out some rage on that target over there. Punch that flour in.
[ He gestures to one of the strung-up, vaguely human shaped collections of flour sacks he's got tied to stakes. MAKE IT RAIN, RHYS. ]
no subject
I hear you. No offense, pard, but you strike me more as the sorta fella who fights with a keyboard. Not so much with a fist.
[ He leans back against the barrel, shaking his head. ]
Nothin' wrong with that, mind. But in times like these, you got to rely on more basic weapons. Fortunately, [ he gestures to Rhys's robo-hand ] you got a bit of a leg-up. Or, yanno, hand-up. More precisely.
[ Har. ]
Now you just need to show me some killer instinct. Go on. Take out some rage on that target over there. Punch that flour in.
[ He gestures to one of the strung-up, vaguely human shaped collections of flour sacks he's got tied to stakes. MAKE IT RAIN, RHYS. ]