Fidelio is no stranger to drink. He’s enough of a regular at the Nightprowler to use it as a meeting grounds, after all. He does make an effort not to let himself get proper drunk. There’s no way of telling when he’ll need his wits about him and besides—too much drink ruins his image.

Pragmatic and witty Fidelio all red in the face, his pupils wide, and laughing easy? If any of his comrades were to see it, his reputation would be ruined.

But sometimes Fidelio let his wants win and he does drink enough to get that way. He feels flush and loose in his booth at the Nightprowler, a half-full mug still in his hand.