To hell with it. He can sleep when he's dead; he can rest when he's dead. The small bit of rest he had gotten at the warehouse was enough to still the aches in his legs; though he certainly felt the aching return by the time he had hoofed it all the way to the bar.<br/><br/>Ivan was just not the kind of person to slow down or stop. Tenacity practically dripped out of his pores. Although, it does help that he can't really suffer from heat exhaustion, or get too hot; his internal body temperature was tepid at best. it had been that way ever since his strange encounter as a teenager.<br/><br/>He would, upon entering the bar, make his way over to the bar, where he'd settle down.  When the man whom seemed to be the bartender got around to it, he'd ask for black coffee; no cream, no sugar, just the coffee.<br/><br/>"Eh." He says to Threnody. "I'll pass. I can't nap, and we won't have all that long before we need to be working. I'll just work my way through it. It's not the last time I've pulled an all-nighter, and it certainly won't be the last." He says with a slight laugh.