[His room is about as appealing, visually, as the rest of the dorm. The walls are peeling paint, and the bed is a mattress on cinder blocks with a pile of blankets and pillows on it. He's got a block of wood serving as a bedside table; there's a book on it, open facedown to hold his spot, a lamp, the choker he opened with Cobalt on Valentine's Day, and the notebook and pen that he uses for John's first aid class. His other stuff is neatly lined along the walls, waiting for sufficient shelving that he hasn't purchased yet.]

[He takes the potion.]

...let's give it a shot.