Felix is currently sprawled limply in a chair in the kitchen, quite unconscious, with a bruise rising on his temple and another around his wrist. Good times with Felix Harrowgate, dysfunctional extraordinaire.
Pascal walks in, sighs, and facepalms. He'll pick his smelling salts from his pocket (don't ask, he's very strange that way, walking around with that stuff in his pockets), and with those, will attempt to reanimate Felix.
He opens one eye blurrily and kind of blinks. Oh, wonderful. Drags the other one open, even if he has a pounding headache that's half hangover and half just bruise. "Pascal," sounding a little tired.
Stirs slightly at the sound of running water, stirring old memories that have only been fresher recently - but still avoiding opening his eyes. Consciousness is anyone's guess.
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Phedre walks in the kitchen, and sees Felix with his bruises - she may or may not have spoken to Mildmay yet.
At any rate, she's facepalming. "I usually don't voice such things, but Messire Harrowgate, you truly do lack wisdom."
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There's compassion in her voice, still - but she doesn't touch him, nor does she try to wake him.
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