[ He applauds "politely", but he's clearly not impressed and clearly just a little disappointed. He expected so much more from someone who had managed to catch Moriarty's eye, but never mind that.

It's his turn to show off. He steps forward, giving her a serious look before he raises his revolver. Moran is skilled with a quick aim and a quick trigger finger, but they only work together, never separate. Otherwise you spend too much time aiming or you shoot without a thought. He trusts both his instincts and his eye.

Blam, a hit. ]

Say you've got a hellcat bearing down on you. Enormous, hungry tiger.

[ Blam, blam, hit, hit. ]

Just dying to sink her claws into you.

[ Blam, another hit.]

Rip your innards out, get a taste of blood.

[ Blam, one final hit finishes off his round. ]

The first one always counts.