I mean, I could but the effort would leave you essentially dealing with two drunk idiots in one. [ The attempt at levity fell flatter than rock dropped in stagnant water — he didn't even manage so much as an amused huff at his own joke. Drift's now empty hand flexed around nothing, the internal debate to just keep on drowning himself belligerent, company or not, there but steadily being quieted. ]

I — thank you, it is nice to simply be sometimes. [ Perhaps later, he'll take stock of that remark and how it factored into him and Yennefer coasting back into each other's orbit like two mercurial comets trapped in a familiar trajectory. ]

Stuff from home that arrived in a supply drop — 'Nightmare Fuel.' I don't have a liver, so what I need to knock me on my ass is a bit more potent and, in all likelihood, deadly to humans. I have — [ Drift trails off and looks around. ] Vodka and some sort of red, I believe. I don't exactly 'entertain' but, y'know, just in case.