[food and drink he's never experienced churns inside his stomach, liquor vestiges pound in his veins and head, and now he's given this to assist? along with a man who apparently needs validation on what sort of person he should be.]

Huh. You should really decide your character before opening your mouth.

[as if he believes this strange would "be" anyone another person wants him to be. perhaps if he offered it devoid of emotion and baiting tempt, a vapid idiot or power mad greed would take him up. swinging his legs from the bed, he plants them and rises, dragging the fabric around his waist off after him. tattered edges slap the backs of his thighs and he smoothly tosses one bottle into the other hand. frees up a hand for something else.

oh look. now he's giving information. a bare turn of his head suggests he's paying attention at least.]

I figured that out a while ago. [when he attempted to leave. even the corridors of darkness remained locked to "within" this thing.]

So, didja come in here on your own, or are we bedmates supernaturally?