"Here I thought Shimmy would have warned everyone to stay away from my room. Seemed concerned I'd end up poisoning people with my cigarette smoke."

Keeping the midnight blue bottle in hand, he set his cigarette down in the tray at his elbow and poured himself another three fingers of whatever forbidden alcohol he was drinking. A glance was taken at his wriststrap on the right, the gemstone set in the demon's jaws a dull grey. On the left, he wore an exact copy although this one had a reddish stone that pulsed dimly with his heartbeat.

"Thanks, luv, but I do it myself if you don't mind. Less work for you," he added, downing the amber drink and setting the tumbler aside. He didn't mention that there was also less chance of anyone getting in a sneak attack on him. Paranoia and John went hand in hand. "So who might you be? Another servant of the Grouch?"

A keen bit of interest was in his eyes, fingers tapping out a restless pattern on the trap bottle he held idly.