Nothing'd be the same as Cal himself.

[ Or Weller, but that goes without saying; that's a loss he's still processing, though it's a slow-going affair.

He leans back on the foot of his holon, stretched out and smiling easily at the words, pleased at the compliment. The pose might be a little showy (draw him like one of your french pilots), but it's not like the two of them aren't both show-offs in their own ways. ]

Hey now. Careful, or I might get more than my recommended dose of ego stroking, and then where would we be?