"You're not the one having an identity crisis," Garrett huffs, but he's somewhat mollified. Especially by the fact that things aren't so bad with his mirror self that they haven't at least had some kind of connection.

So, tentatively, Garrett reaches out to shove Anders lightly on the shoulder. Farm boy affection, he's been told, a few times by this very mage.

"All right, you weren't crying. Bleeding heart that you are." He lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug; no need to get worked up, clearly. Not out in the open like this. "Garrett Hawke, rogue, sounds just as impossible. Not that I don't have a roguish charm..."

Yeah, Garrett wasn't going to let that go so easily, sorry Anders.

"Do you and I--you and him still drink?" Garrett cocks his head. "If ever a situation has called for discussing it over drinks, it's this."