After the bromance of the bro hug had faded into the majestic, yet macho alternate reality of brotality, he'd retreated just ever so faintly from his ol' pals posture--how familiar it was and nice to feel reminiscent--and spread his arms with a shrug. "I'm a stalker." admitted he, the words followed by the bent gymnastics of an asymmetrically knavish grin. At one acme of his life, he was damned proud of his ability to summon the globes to blatantly do that which others restrained their instincts from doing. His instinct was to move nearer to his lost loved ones, because when they were young and their 'powers combined', they brought out a part of him that in a Captain Planet-like manner, was somehow his best or most happy.
"And I wanted to see what happened when we were all around each other again. I don't give a shit if Roy's still being a little bitch. He's still noodle armed, weepy, and couldn't take me in a fight if his life depended on it. I'll tie him up to a chair and fucking make him talk to me. I just don't feel like getting all elaborate with the shit yet. You know me, I've got priorities." Arched brow, check. "Like coffee, with the friend who's always been there." Dazzling grin, check. "Let's get this show on the road."