Chris snorted. "I don't think 17 years is enough to qualify as historical." He eyed the dragoness. "Sounds like a good song title..." He headed over to the machine, pouring in far too much sugar than was probably healthy, and took a big sip, grinning and licking his lips, looking distinctly more awake already. "Sugar's important," he said.<br/><br/>He rolled his eyes as Rheanna pulled out the device. "Great,<span style="font-style: italic">another</span>magical buttplug." Snickering, he took another sip of the coffee, before watching with some interest what was unfolding-literally-before him. "...A couple of months ago that would have scared me. Now it feels mundane." He shook his head, hair greasy with the sweat from last night flopping over his eyes. "Dunno what is wrong with me." He sniffed. "Though that smells damn good."<br/><br/>(OOC: True. He may not have much of an appetite, but he has to eat.)