Philomen had a soft spot for art, though he had no actual artistic ability himself. It was nice to look at, anyway, nice enough that he found himself at the gallery after getting off work that day--that, and his current research was starting to give him a pounding headache, and he needed a break before he had a falling out with his true career passion.
(It wouldn't last long, mind. He was only being dramatic.)
He hadn't been paying nearly as much attention to politics as he probably should have been, but he knew enough to recognize Ozymandias Dempsey as a candidate when he passed the other man during his meanderings through the gallery. He was also in the right (or perhaps wrong) place at the right time to hear the ladies' gossip and was sympathetic enough to speak up when he came within speaking distance of Mr. Dempsey, "I believe there was something about it in Witch Weekly," he said with a grimace. Phil didn't read the tabloid himself, obviously, but he couldn't help hearing things when people talked about it around him.
(It wouldn't last long, mind. He was only being dramatic.)
He hadn't been paying nearly as much attention to politics as he probably should have been, but he knew enough to recognize Ozymandias Dempsey as a candidate when he passed the other man during his meanderings through the gallery. He was also in the right (or perhaps wrong) place at the right time to hear the ladies' gossip and was sympathetic enough to speak up when he came within speaking distance of Mr. Dempsey, "I believe there was something about it in Witch Weekly," he said with a grimace. Phil didn't read the tabloid himself, obviously, but he couldn't help hearing things when people talked about it around him.