"I hope to do neither of those things," Carlisle remarks, knowing good and well he won't be waking up on anyone's lawn. In the corridor is much more probable, given the layout of Anchor. "Truthfully, I am unlikely to be affected at all. None of the enchantments I have tried so far worked. I just- I want a moment of peace from my own head. My nerves are overwhelming, as they have always been."

He pulls the first mug to him, inhaling the steam, waiting a moment to feel something -- anything. With a sigh, he sets it back, recording the results in the open journal nearby. Next mug, same thing: he doesn't even feel the slightest bit lightheaded. He stirs the third one again before inhaling deeply, hoping it will garner some reaction; he's met with nothing.

Carlisle shakes his head, deflated. "I suppose I should give drinking them a try, though I'm starting to think this entire endeavor was pointless."