[He doesn't like being angry, the overwhelming feeling gripping him, and he's never felt it so hard as when Aetna began following him, telling him the sad, sad news of his family. He knows he hated the man, but he also hated the look of fear that he'd see when Ianchus would back him against the wall, tired of his imploring tone, his cautionary words.

He'd seen something like that in Jezebel's face, and it still bothers him. It's one of those emotions that Ianchus keeps coming back to, like a swollen lip that's bitten over and over.

And of course, it was all him. The potion hadn't transformed him, this was something he'd be capable of dead sober.

He manages to laugh a little at Jezebel's words, though.]


Ahh. Would that we would have switched our drinks, Doctor.