( For what it's worth, Jack's uncommonly blasé about most situations that a healthier person would be more emotive about. Being here nearly a year, for example, is probably worthy of some exclamations about how fucked up it all is, how unbelievable, how this place is crazy — it's just, he's what you might call... desensitized. He's seen a lot of crazy shit in his life, and though collectively an entire year in an alternate universe might be edging up to his top five, on a day-to-day it doesn't really make the cut.

Granted, these last few days have been on the higher end of the scale. )

I know, right? Weird.

( He agrees pleasantly. )

I was trying to conjure up a knife and got that instead, don't ask me why. I genuinely couldn't tell you. It's not really useful for anything else, though.

( Pause. )

I mean... unless you can drink it. Can you drink that? Is that, like, water and food coloring in there? I have no idea what those things are made of.