hc; body image.
mccree wasn’t always the big hunk of man beef you see before you. he’s always been tall, but back in the deadlock days he was more like a beanpole than a caber tosser. a combination of not enough food and no discipline meant that what little muscle he had was only consequential -- a little in his arms from learning to use his revolver, and a little in his legs from running -- he did a LOT of that in the deadlock gang.
it was only once gabriel got his hands on jesse that he was in a position to be able to actually train his body to be at its best. he had regular (and nutritious) food, he had gyms to use at his hearts content and military training programs to keep his activity regimented. in comparison to his time at deadlock, he liked feeling strong. he liked having energy. he worked hard to maintain his image, and earned a well-built, slim physique in the process. he had a surprising amount of discipline when it came to maintaining his image. it was only partially vanity -- more to do with making the most of a good thing he was sure was going to be taken away from him.
now? he’s a little older, a little wiser, and just... doesn’t sweat it anymore. sure, it’s nice to be fit and have a six pack and Every Perfect Muscle, but d’you know what else is nice? doughnuts for breakfast. jam ones, specifically. he still maintains good health and exercises, but he doesn’t really worry about this soft belly he’s got, or the wrinkles, or the aches from old injuries and years of abuse through deadlock and blackwatch alike. he’s old and too tired to care about a wee bit of pudge when the trade-off is enjoying the nice things in life.
