My cousin is off exploring constantly, while I— oh, help yourself— while I waste away behind my desk!

[Woe! Woe is Constantin, who sighs in a mostly-exaggerated manner before tipping back about half of the shiny blue cocktail. It's— it sure is, that's the most he can think about it, making a face and blinking rapidly a few times at it. Enh...]

Do yours taste like very sweet paint, too? Wine and ale sound like the drinks of kings all of a sudden.