sympathy for the devil / open

  [font=trebuchet ms]Paper attended the tavern often, but rarely drank, and only imbibed small amounts when he did drink. After his last adventure with alcohol had gotten him involved in an ill-fated attempt to start a boy-band with Pincher and Ilijas, he was not especially eager to embarrass himself like that again (though he did think he could become fairly skilled with the keyboard, if he practiced enough). The buzz of mild inebriation was pleasant enough, but he had no intention of going beyond that ever again. No, more often he preferred to just take in the nightlife, and occasionally eavesdrop on others’ drunken conversations. He rarely learned anything that could be used to actually destroy someone (or just their reputation), but even the more mundane tidbits were either intriguing or funny enough that he didn’t care.

  Tonight, he happened to be listening in on a few regulars speculating about Daphne (specifically the former quartermaster), when he spotted out of the corner of his left eye a group of people harassing Vanessa. With a sigh, he got up and walked over, eyes narrowing. Argus had already sat down and shielded Vanessa by the time he reached them, but he joined the Officer in glaring at the offenders. ”If they don’t go away, I’ll ‘escort’ them out,” he whispered to Argus and Vanessa. What value was there in harassing someone smaller than you? One could make an argument that they were asserting their authority, but these people had no authority whatsoever; and it proved nothing about their strength or courage, just that they were jerks.