[Or at least, if they did happen to mention them, Tuco didn't actually process the warning.
The semi-amused look slips right off his face with those four numbers, however. His jaw slackens just a touch, and there's a weird combination of both disbelief and... what, awe, maybe?]
Jesus.
[He fits his chin into his hand and shifts it side to side for a moment, stubble scraping against the skin of his palm.
Quietly:] So... I could be your great-great-great... great... [He stops, mouth quirking up again. There's a little tap as his rings rap against the counter.] I don't know. I can't— ["Count that far back." He gives an incredulous snort, before looking up to meet Boone's eyes.] I came from 1862. That's... [And he's back to rubbing at his face again.] That's a lot of greats.
no subject
No.
[Or at least, if they did happen to mention them, Tuco didn't actually process the warning.
The semi-amused look slips right off his face with those four numbers, however. His jaw slackens just a touch, and there's a weird combination of both disbelief and... what, awe, maybe?]
Jesus.
[He fits his chin into his hand and shifts it side to side for a moment, stubble scraping against the skin of his palm.
Quietly:] So... I could be your great-great-great... great... [He stops, mouth quirking up again. There's a little tap as his rings rap against the counter.] I don't know. I can't— ["Count that far back." He gives an incredulous snort, before looking up to meet Boone's eyes.] I came from 1862. That's... [And he's back to rubbing at his face again.] That's a lot of greats.