"Hmmm~, That too♪." Mood instantly uplifted, Sander places his absinthe bottle down on one of the dusty counters. Usually he'd chug the whole thing down when in a state of fitful depression...or to annoy the piss out of Ryan. With Falcon successfully diverting the disaster (and cheering the moody artist in one fell swoop); he didn't reckon he'd be needing alcohol to muddle this thoughts anytime soon.
The artist swoops over to one of the barely visible refrigerators in the dark, gripping the handle and pulling. Light spills out from inside, revealing a mostly empty space aside from a few creme-filled cake bars, distilled water bottles, and a bag of not-so-fresh looking grapes.
"Dammit! Out of anything decent to eat." He drums his fingers a few times before turning back to Falcon.