Erik chuckled softly at the inquiry, lips turning up in a brief smile as he came closer to join the other mutant. He moved to stand behind her so that he could look over her shoulder at the array of bottles that were left to them. It was a strange prison where one had the ability to decide between top shelf liquors but was unable to truly escape their imprisonment. He let his arm reach just over Rogue’s shoulder, turning around a bottle of whisky then a bottle of rum. He’d always been more of a gin drinker himself, but he’d picked up enough from Charles to know his way around brown liquors.
“Perhaps a spiced rum would compliment the flavor?” He suggested to the woman, tugging a bottle off of the shelf then holding it still in front of her so that she would be able to accept it from him. He stepped away with that before looking through the bottles to find gin and vermouth.
A moment later the shaker lifted into the air to make its way towards him. It was a needless display of powers, perhaps, but there was a thrill at feeling the draw of the metal coming towards him after so long trapped away from it. It landed gracefully in his palm and he glanced over the bar to find where the ice was stored.
“Ice?” He offered to Rogue once it had been located.