Emotional prattle? If there's a man who's incapable of emotional bullshit, nearly seven degrees removed from an ability to give any sort of fuck about another person, it would be Basher Moran. Maybe he just hasn't met someone who impresses him enough yet. He stares impassively down at Will, meeting that gaze with nothing but the faintest traces of disdain, taking a step back and raising the gun.

Eyes never leaving Gray, his head turns just slightly to listen to Jim as he speaks- he can stare down that desperation the way a tiger would regard a begging meal. Fairy tale? Better a boogeyman, a ghost, than a monster to hunt. Respectable. The idea earns a slight chuckle of amusement, lips curling into a brief smirk before that deadpan, steely look seeps back in like ice water. "No. You didn't."

The gun shot is overly loud in the small room, echoing on the concrete walls but Sebastian doesn't so much as flinch. It's a bit of a mess, but a flawless shot (as well it fucking should be from near point blank). Why waste time on the worthless? He doesn't even give him a second look before turning away to approach Jim, holding to gun out with the hand grip facing towards him, still looking almost bored. "Any others you need taken care of, sir?"