*Mortar hugged back, squeezing tightly. He held on a little longer, to about five mississippi, because he felt as if Reese was a true friend, and he had very few of them, because Royal left for some reason, he hadn't seen Sketch in forever, and Ornstein was dead, and the whereabouts of his companion Smough were impossible to find. Mortar could tell Reese was still uncertain, and couldn't blame him. Mortar still didn't understand it. He had been in the same room with a cyborg cowboy and literal Dark Souls characters, from different times and places, far from his own, but decided not to bring it up. After all, Reese would figure that out soon enough.* You too man, you mean a lot to me. [spoiler]also no homo[/spoiler] Oh, and just so you know, about what you and Cyan did... what you said earlier. I hope you know that she physically can't get drunk. She's just a good actor and made that choice sober. I guess that should make you feel a little better.