"I hear you talking about me!" Reno called over in a lazy, rather sing-song way. "I'm a good patient. For the Director. Because he's not you, Elena," he teased, sticking his tongue out at her before wriggling his way right over onto his stomach, exposing those deep claw marks on his back to the air in the room. He yawned and stretched, nuzzling the pillow that he'd cuddled up.

He was just beginning to get comfy before his brain switched into drunken-talk-mode. Muttering something entirely incoherent, he blinked over at Rude. "Rude. Rude~. Ruuuuuuude. I'm seeing like... three of ya now, man." Then with a pause, and a sudden jerk to a sitting up position, Reno's pale complexion tinted a sickly colour.

"...I'm gonna throw up!" He scrambled from the bed, darting to the bathroom with incredible accuracy considering his alcohol levels, and skidded to his knees in front of the toilet, leaving the door open for all to hear.