Doom's vague answer only earned him an annoyed scoff. Misha could tell what he was doing but that didn't make it much less effective. Not knowing something wasn't any better just because you realized that you didn't know. This was going to get under her skin but there was nothing to do about it. She crossed up her legs and rolled her shoulders with a grimace while trying to feel out the extent of the aforementioned injuries.

"Gee, thanks," she said drolly. Checking over the spread, she picked up the cup and put it between both her hands, brows furrowed as she sighed into the lip and took a large drink. There was nothing doing even if he was playing her and water was still water no matter how many other substances were in there. Now she was rolling her neck and trying not to let on too badly. Being pumped with various voltages at Doom's whim was definitely leaving her muscles in fits, not to mention the bruising she would probably have from both the tackle and the knee to the gut. "What about aspirin? Think you might have laced this with any of that? Ibuprofen? Aleve?"