[ Howl pauses in response to Jean's observation, quickly turns his back to him, and vomits on the sidewalk again. He's free to speculate on whether the timing was coincidental.

Howl stays double-over after the moment passes, gasping softly as he collects himself. With one hand gripping the steps behind him to keep him balanced, he wipes his mouth on the handkerchief with the other.

Oh, he hates this. Howl truly cannot remember the last time he couldn't use a spell to whisk away the unlikable effects of alcohol. He could cast such spells before he even tasted alcohol for the first time. ]

Ughh... [ Groaning, he leans against the stoop's railing and cradles his forehead. ] Right now, I'd... I'd kiss their boots for a scrap of my power back. Or just a bed for the night... Or a measly glass of water. How aren't you sick?