Scion: Hero (IC)

[PoeticallyPsyco]

Hmm. Brand knew he was good at playing a crowd, even (especially) the drunk and rowdy, and he felt like that had been an excellent performance. But the reaction of his audience suggested otherwise. There was definitely something off with the air here, even beyond the fact that breathing it in made him tipsier than a half-dozen pints.

And now he had drawn the attention of one of their hosts. Brand turned to face the satyr, plastering a guileless smile onto his face. "Of course," he said. "I love helping." Not his most eloquent line, but he was busy gathering his thoughts. Brandon was careful to keep his eyes on the satyr, not looking at his companions elsewhere in the room; no sense in blowing their cover, too. He stretched, extending his arms high into the air, before jumping heavily down off the table, landing with his feet flat to make a decently loud clap. If his friends were paying any attention at all, now they'd see what was going down.

Most likely, the satyr wanted to pump Brand for information. Possibly, he wanted to kill or otherwise neutralize the scion. The two were not mutually exclusive, either. It's also technically possible, Brand allowed, that he just wants to make out. He wondered how best to respond as he followed the satyr out of the living room.

In a fight, when in doubt, you should go on the offensive. As long as you didn't overextend, that was often the best way to learn something about your opponent, and it let you dictate the flow. Applying that same principle to conversation...

"So," Brand casually started as they found themselves alone in a hallway, the door to what was presumably the backroom just ahead, "how much do you know about the dagger?"