"Go back to sleep, ke'chara," Drake isn't going to even try to actually stand up, yet. He just reaches for his battered backpack on the ground and drags it closer so that he can retrieve the thermos from inside.

The contents having been refreshed so expertly halfway through last night's ordeal is undoubtedly part of what's saved him from full-on over-extension. He's definitely going to have to contact that dark-haired alchemist, once he's recovered and the city has calmed back down again.

But that's just a passing thought, right now, as he takes a pull of the foul-tasting stuff. It's a testament to how often he's been in this state that the taste itself doesn't wake him right the fuck up!