Raise Your Glass, Oh, Weee-eeere.... (-tags Were/S'vyr-)

[Wandering Minstrel]

((I... have no idea how to play poker. Or any sort of gambling game. So yeah.))

Raseil was having a decent day, so far.

He'd had a good cup of klah this morning, chased it with a shot of whiskey, and then headed down to the gambling hall. The tables were fairly good today, yielding quite the nice take. And there weren't even any accusations of cheating, either! Lovely, absolutely lovely. Royal perched precariously on his shoulder, peering at his human's cards. It was a good hand. Full house. Possibly a winner, that... But he didn't like the way the man across from him was twitching. He knew this particular guy, and one of his particular tells was nail-biting. (Disgusting, but useful, he supposed.) One nail, it was a good hand, but if he went through more than one, it was horrid. This time, he wasn't even gnawing too much on the one. Extremely good, then. Royal flush. Better he leave the table now than lose what he had.

So at the next opportunity, he got up. "I'm gonna walk, boys," he said with a grin and a wink. "You're just too good for me." And he moved on. Next turn, he watched out of the corner of his eye as the man he'd been watching laid down a royal flush with a triumphant grin. He snorted. "Good thing I left, hmm?" He said to Royal with a smirk, scratching the Blue under the chin. A quiet trill escaped the flitter's throat. Yes, his human was a smart creature! Good human. "Now," he said, "Let's see about that dice table, hmm?"

Yep... Today was a good day.

Now if only he could keep himself from eying that guy's arse.

[redwerecat]

In all honesty, he probably shouldn't have been devoting is time to things like this. BUT. But. Butbutbut.S'vyr was full of buts. Besides, he was able to get a surprisingly good look at the kids around here this way- this way being strolling nonchalantly trhough the gaming tables in the gambling hall.

Sure, it was partially his own pleasure, but hey. Ammy'd say something if she thought someone he walked by were of that special sort that made them Impressable. Currently, the green was just hanging out a ways off, virtually unnoticeable in a stand of scrub brush a mile or so distant. Her rider was happily back in his old persona as a cardshark and a con man, and he was more than at home in the gambling halls. One was as good as another, in his eyes, and you never knew what you'd find here.

Still, for now? He was just allowed to wander around aimlessly, back in his element.
There were no words for how much the young rider liked gambling. Shards, he'd already walked away with a good amount of marks so far, and he hadn't even been trying. He hummed quietly to himself, and flipped a coin between his fingers, dancing it across his knuckles out of boredom. (And a little bit of nerves- he never quite got used to the sensation of being back in the North.)

Not like they'd be able to tell he was anything but a Northerner- how many turns down there and he was still pale as a ghost. Oh well. He grinned to himself as he spotted the poker tables, and lingered nearby a little while, debating if there was anyone there worth chatting up. So far no- until that creature who'd been at the cards chose to excuse himself. S'vyr stepped back, acting as if he were merely moving out of the way, and watched him go. Handsome fellow, he was. And smart- S'vyr watched the rest of the game long enough to watch the wretched nail-biter (hah! S'vyr actually recognized that one, he was a terrible gambler and a younger version of himself had won a good deal of traveling money from him turns back) lay down his cards and rake in the marks.

Mmm. Quite smart then. A small smile crept across the greenriders face, and he sidled away, tailing the handsome thing and his blue flit to the dice tables. Could be interesting. He made a point to situate himself off to one side, but close to the young man, an observer. He played the role of a timid young thing, nervous and uncomfortable in the gambling halls. Just a little bit of awe flashed in Blue-flit-man's direction, a swift darting of the eyes to the side, a nervous biting of his lip- there.

For all intents and purposes, he was a bad gambler with a surfeit of money. See where that took him...

[Wandering Minstrel]

Raseil didn't notice him at first - he was a bit too busy scoping out the tables, seeing how the games were going, and seeing if anyone in particular was having an odd streak of luck. Nothing really stood out to him, not just yet, so he glanced away for a moment, a bit bored. And then he noticed him, and he had to school his expression back into normalcy after he'd spotted him. Because, quite frankly, the guy was gorgeous. Faranth, why did this have to happen to him? He'd been a happy, normal guy just a couple of moons ago. Apparently, life hated him.

But once he got over the fact that the man was prettier than most of the women that he'd met, he noticed that he wasn't exactly comfortable here. New, looked well-off... First time in the hall, then, and with a good amount of marks to lose. Hmm. Well. Perhaps he could take out some of his frustration on the handsome young man who'd caused it, eh? He gave the guy a bit of a challenging smile, walking up to him with a confidence that showed in his every move. Of course, he didn't quite realize that his eyes had also turned the slightest bit flirtatious-looking, but then, every gambler had his tells. "Hey," he said, voice friendly, "First time here? I can show you the ropes, if you want." And if the kid was nice, he might not even make him lose the shirt off his back!

Royal, as usual, didn't like the person his human had chosen to speak to. He gave a shrieking hiss, showing off his sharp teeth and glaring balefully. Raseil reached up to give him a flick on the nose, but otherwise ignored the grumpy little creature.

((Ugh. Killmenow.))

[redwerecat]

Beautiful. And he wasn't just talking about the guy he'd been keeping an eye on. Rarely did he get things to work out so smoothly.

He feigned just enough of a startle to appear in line with his act, then fidgeted like he couldn't decide what to do. He brushed a strand of hair behind his ears, flicking his gaze over the young man- mm. Handsome and clever. And- well well. He wasn't sure if his new friend here knew it, but that was one shellshard of a look he was giving. Mmm. That was a dangerous thing to do in the North, sweetie, he thought. But he had to give the man props, he was smooth.

S'vyr laughed softly, pretended to be surprised by the flitter, and laughed again. (He could have vomited- this was almost TOO ridiculous.)
"Yes. My first time, you're good. Am I that obvious...?" He glanced around, like he was looking for someone, then shrugged. "And...you wouldn't mind? That's awfully nice of you..." He tilted his head to one side, eyeing the other man 'shyly'. "I'd be happy for a kind face to give me a hand to be honest." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I half think some of the men here might be cheating." Another shrug- he didn't want to seem too talky. "Name's Serryn, by the way."

(Off in the woods, Eamith was nearly dying of laughter. Her rider was having WAY too much fun with this.)

[Wandering Minstrel]

Raseil could've laughed as well, honestly. He thought some of the men here were cheating. Oh no! Shells, what did the guy expect in a gambling hall? The only way to beat a cheat is to be a better cheat. Or catch 'em in the act and start a brawl, but that generally just got you thrown out, not paid. And money was, of course, the most important thing. "Raseil," he said with a bit of a smirk. "And yeah, gotta watch out for that. Good general rule, whenever you join a table: assume one of 'em's cheating." But damn it, did this kid have to look so good? Really? Did he? Shaffin' shells...

"So, what'd you wanna try first?" He asked with a grin that, while it looked easy, was quite forced. Shaffing. Augh. No. He liked women, dammit. "Saw you eying the dice," he suggested. "Might start there?" There were more ways to cheat at dice than you could shake a stick at, too. He twitched his fingers in anticipation. Always fun, dice games...

[redwerecat]

"A pleasure, Raseil..." S'vyr- 'Serryn'- Murmured, following the tall man's gaze around the room. He left enough of a pause to imply he was still hesitating, then shot Raseil a grateful look and nodded. He was the picture of a lost puppy eating up Raseil's words.
"Dice sounds good! You'll- ah." He glanced at the floor, hiding his face behind a nervous gesture, running his hands though his hair. "You'll show me the ropes, eh?" Another smile, and he headed for the tables, slow enough to seem like he was worried Raseil wouldn't follow, and with enough of a false-fumble to pull the weighted die out of his own sleeve.

A few seconds later- "Dragon eyes!" The dealer yelled, and S'vyr made a good show of looking supremely startled as he rolled the die back into it's hiding place. He whirled on his heel, eyes wide, and gabbed Raseil's hands in a flurry of excitement, a grin spreading across his face.
"That's...good right?"

[Wandering Minstrel]

But Raseil did, in fact, follow. Quite closely, in fact. And as soon as his new mark purse ahem, student turned his back, he smirked. This was going to be a breeze, wasn't it? Faranth, it was like the kid was trying to be easy to cheat. So naive! How'd he even survive this long? Well, it was just his fortune that Raseil had been the one to spot him, and not one of the other guys in her. They'd probably take everything he had. He'd settle for, oh, half. Maybe a third, if he was feeling generous. And then he'd show him how to win. At poker, maybe. That one you could win at without cheating, though you had to have skill, instinct, and a good bit of luck.

And then, of course, he heard the dealer yell, and he stopped dead. Holy Faranth in between. Dragon Eyes. What the...? Faranth! Well, he certainly didn't have to worry about this kid having luck! First roll with Dragon Eyes. Shit. He blinked as his hands were snatched up between Serryn's own delicate ones, and he snorted as the kid asked if it was good. Yeah, it was... very good. In fact, the dealer was coming over with the boy's winnings right now. Dragon Eyes on a first roll. On a fumbled roll. Faranth. "Yeah, it's good," he said, "best roll in the game, actually. Wins the entire pot." He smirked slightly. At least the guy's expression when he got his bag of marks would be interesting...

[redwerecat]

An internal smirk was covered by a supremely stunned look, and a faint, overwhelmed laugh.
"So I see." He said. "Beginners luck?" Not at all, but who was he to say anything? After all his lovely new friend here seemed impressed enough, and he was wagering on that to keep him on his toes long enough that he wouldn't start getting suspicious any time soon.

Also that purse wasn't half bad. S'vyr had to admit, it was enough to make him supremely glad for this little detour, despite a niggling green thread of emotion from Eamith telling him to keep his mind on the job. What, fun wasn't allowed now? Bugger. He accepted the winnings with a little bow of gratitude, and pretended not to notice the dirty looks he was getting from some of the other bettors.

Hmm. Okay, maybe a little too much attention. "That is.... more marks than I've ever seen in my life." He said, faking more surprise. (Faranth between, he hadn't acted this wet behind the ears in turns.) "I...am not sure what to do, actually. Suggestions? Or should I press my luck?" A sudden idea had come to him, and he was trying something risky here, as he let his hand absently trace the edge of Raseil's sleeve- it would come off as accidental, and probably more a nervous gesture than anything, but who knew? At this point, he was simply hoping the subtle come-on and the promise of quite a large sum of money might be enough to lure him away somewhere quiet...

[Wandering Minstrel]

....Damn. It.

This kid... Why was he so shaffin' tempted by this boy? Hiding like this was taking its toll on him, apparently, because while he'd been able to resist like a woman betrothed only a few months ago, this kid was driving him mad. Why this kid? Why now? He did not need this. He liked living. He really did. And these shaffing freakish urges weren't going to let him do so for long. Every part of his gambler's instincts was screaming at him to let these odds be. Let some other sucker play this table, because every one of the players was a better cheat than he was, and they were more vicious than starved whers. Raseil was smarter than this, shaffitall. He should be running for the hills. Shell, maybe he should even be calling a guard on the kid, with the way he was coming on to him. And that's what it was, really - a come-on. He'd seen the same shaffing behavior in the countless women (safe, soft, boring lovely women) he'd snatched up in this hall. He wasn't one of Those Types, shaffit...

And yet, he still found himself giving the kid a look that was much, much too thoughtful for his liking. "...Honestly, you probably shouldn't push your luck," he said, and cursed himself for saying it. Just what had happened to winning a fortune off this kid?! "Beginner's luck'll only get you one shot. Better not to tempt fate." And he should follow his own advice, shaffit. Tempting fate was a fool's game, and you usually lost the shirt off your back doing it. Fun, yeah, but deadly in the end. He might get away with it the first time - nobody seemed to be looking at him oddly right now - but sooner or later, he'd get caught and he wasn't fond of betting with his life, shaffit! Gambling wasn't fun if you had no chance of winning! "Mind you, walking home alone with that amount of marks in plain sight is just asking for trouble... Want a bodyguard?" The smirk on his face was altogether too nervous. Shaffitshaffitshaffit. Well, he'd already said it. There was no taking back those words. at least he'd said them quietly enough that nobody but the kid would be able to hear them clearly...

And hey, maybe if this didn't work out, he could just snatch the boy's marks and run. That'd be much more easy than... Whatever the shells might come of this. Royal shifted on his shoulder, hissing quietly in reaction to his human's nervousness. Absent-mindedly, he flicked the little beast in the side - he'd trained him not to react to what he was feeling, shaffit. Having a big blue tell sitting on their shoulders wasn't the way people won poker games.

[redwerecat]

S'vyr was doing an awesome little victory dance in his head. He'd be doing an actual one later, but away from anyone who might question the... masculitinty of the action. So he resigned it to his head, and just nodded in apparent disappointment.

Eamith was laughing at him. He told her, in none to pretty words, to stuff it and get her ass ready to move. She wiggled sarcastically- yes. it was possible- and stretched.

Because this was promising to be quite a lucrative little side trip. He took in the information with a look that said he was seriously trying to remember this, he was, gosh darn it all, just the best little student ever], he was really paying attention here. He almost had to change plans midway when Raseil seemed to decline further gaming, but- he gave a sly, quick smile as he was given quite the promising counter-offer.
"Oh." He breathed, as if it had never occurred to him to watch his back with that much money. "I...that's true." A bit of hesitation, and he 'accidentally' stepped closer to Raseil. (And people wondered why a blatantly sexual creature like Eamith suited him so well)

Oh, and it was adorable how nervous that smile was. Shards, S'vyr might just be willing to help him figure this whole 'liking men' thing out after all. If they were still speaking later, that is.
"I'd appreciate it very much...remind you to pay you back sometime, eh?"
So he just nodded, and slipped out toward the main door- he had to actually keep reminding himself to be more clumsy than he really was. He hesitated just past the entrance, again, a little too close to Raseil, but this time it was to pinpoint a certain dragon's location and figure out how to do this...where they were in relative comparison to too many observers.

((Min wants...more or less chaos?))

[Wandering Minstrel]

((Min would like as much chaos as you wish to give. Raseil needs his life shaken up a bit~))

Raseil very nearly jumped out of his skin as Serryn stepped closer to him. Oh, he didn't jump, no, he had better self-control than that, but he did twitch a bit. That little movement sent his mind reeling down a path of uncertainty once again. He was going to get himself killed, after all. And it wouldn't be a merciful death, either. No, this would be long, slow, drawn out over years and years of torture. And all because he was a bloody freak. Oh, and they'd probably kill Royal. Wouldn't that be fun? ...And now, after considering ll this, he was still following the lad out the door. What kind of an idiot was he? He should be running for the hills! He should be calling a guard!Something! Anything! Anything but being a complete deadglow and following him. But no, apparently his body had gained a mind of its own and was making him follow the man. What. The shells. Was wrong with him.

...And yet, he was still moving.

The gambler hummed noncommittally, pausing behind Serryn for a moment as he hesitated just past the entrance. Making sure he was coming? Well, against his better judgment, he was, so there was no need to wait. He stepped up beside the man, standing silently to his left and just as silently wondering what kind of torture methods Fort used. He was sure they'd be creative. They'd had years to perfect their art, after all.

[redwerecat]

It seemed safe enough- and Eamith was making her way to the border of the Gambling hall's territory. (The pale mud-daub paint mixture thing was doing a decent enough job of covering her tattoos as well, so hopefully no one would question her presence- more than one weyr had riders who frequented the gambling halls nearby- S'vyr had enough experience swindling them to be certain of this.)

And Raseil was keeping close after all. S'vyr smiled, and gestured toward the open area the runners were normally stabled in. If all else failed, a little chaos with a dragon could make a nice distraction. Delightful. So he was all set to simply waltz out of there with his candidate (and the money) when a screechy, cracked voice rang out over the crowd.

"Serevyr, you wher-loving, swindling, lying, cheating, son of a bitch bastard of a faggot!"

Oh, dear. That was a little extreme. Worse yet, he definitely recognized that voice. After all, that whiny little hitch was practically unmistakable. As was the shaggy-haired blonde who was shoving his way through the crowd, beelining straight toward them. Problem.

"Well fuck me sideways." S'vyr hissed. "Shit."

The man marched straight up to him, seething quite visibly, and cracked S'vyr across the face. The darker-haired rider stumbled back, conveniently into Raseil.
"Owen. Sweetheart, so lovely to hear from you. Haven't seen you in turns. How's the fiance? Ex-fiance, sorry, I did rather ruin that, didn't I? Though it was just as much your fault. You know, you really shouldn't sleep with bo-"

'Owen' roared and lunged at him. "YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!" S'vyr yelped, ducked to the other side of Raseil, and grinned at the man. "Well. I think we should run. A brawl is a little below my standards, eh? Besides, then the guards would get involved, and who wants that, especially when that imbecile realized what he just said, and recognizes that lovely bluerider over there-" He jerked his head toward a rather lanky man who was appearing suddenly quite interested. "Is wearing Fort knots."

Oh, and one should note, all through his rather hastily-whispered speech there he was tugging Raseil's wrist and sliding his knife from his belt. They really should be leaving now. And S'vyr was adamant about taking Raseil with him. Drat. And it had almost been so perfect.
EAMITH!

Shit, babe, I'm coming! Just get out of there!

Oh, yes, I hadn't THOUGHT of that. Another tug on Raseil's sleeve. "Unless you fancy a fight?"

[Wandering Minstrel]

Things were, if not perfect, (or even GOOD,) tolerable. He hadn't been snatched up by a dragon because it could... He didn't know, smell the kind of freakishness he was trying so desperately not to think about. It was okay. Really. He could deal. He hoped. If his heart didn't fail from sheer terror, that is, but that was really beside the point at the moment. And then, of course something went wrong. He bloody well knew it. Every single instinct had been screaming at him to get out, but no, of course not, he just had to get involved, didn't he? Frikkin' beautiful. And the particular sort of wrong it went wasn't the normal sort of wrong, either. No, no. This was more accurately described as 'disastrous', 'catastrophic', or 'Faranth-shitting insane'.

It started with some bastard elbowing his way through the crowd, calling Serryn by a different name and being quite vitriolic about it. And bloody scorching shellls, was that an interesting name to hear. Serevyr? The Serevyr? The Serevyr who'd completely humiliated the Lord Holder of Nabol a few turns ago? There were still stories circulating about that little incident, each more wild than the last. People said the Lord Holder still tended to look jumpy at large public gatherings. (He had no idea if it was true, but ehn.) Serevyr was, among other things, known as a competent gambler, possible cheat, and definitely a con man. He was, in other words, a figure to be admired, cursed, and hope to Faranth you never met. And he really, really doubted that anybody shared that name. Pseudonym? Maybe? Either way, it meant he'd been played like a well-tuned lute under a wily old harper's fingers. Expert, this bastard was...

Also a bloody trouble magnet, apparently, because the next thing that occurred was him being pretty thoroughly punched in the face, sending him stumbling back against Raseil. And, well, what could he do but try to steady him? The only other option was letting him fall back against him fully, which really wasn't an option at all - he'd had a hard enough time restraining his unruly mind as it was. Owen, was it? And the implications of what Serry-- Serevyr said next very nearly made his eyes cross, an certainly made his mind go blank for a good moment or so. Royal chattered worriedly on his shoulder, nudging his human in the cheek with his nose. This was getting loud. Royal did not like loud, no he didn't. Thankfully, that nudge, combined with dear Owen's bitching managed to kickstart that total brain reboot he needed, and he was abruptly brought back into a world where his cushy little life in the gambling hall might be crumbling down around his ears in a few minutes if he didn't move his ass. He did not like the idea of languishing in Fort for the rest of his life. He'd heard torturers made horrid conversation partners. "Right. Running. Running would be good, yeah."

RIGHT. Running. Where to run? Well. Alleyways were always good for losing pursuers, weren't they? "This way," he said, turning off in the direction that Serevyr had been tugging him, and ducking into the nearest convenient alleyway. Aah, a nice, dark little maze to lose themselves in. Much better. But not if they didn't get their little asses moving. "Roy, up!" He barked at the little pile of limbs and blue hide that had dug its claws into his shoulder. Watch for anyone after us, boy, he said, and for once, the spoiled little monster seemed to realize the urgency of what he was being asked to do and obeyed immediately, taking off and wheeling overhead in a wide, messy spiral to watch for pursuers. That done, Raseil turned his attention to the man he was hoping had followed him into the alleys. "So, are you that Serevyr?" What?! He was curious, okay?

[redwerecat]

S'vyr was terrified for a second he was going to suddenly be plus one bloody painful sucker punch and minus a potential candidate-slash-really adorable new friend. Although that sudden flash of recognition in Raseil's eyes was new- had he really left that much of a reputation behind him when he'd been here last? Then again, a few moments to ponder this and yes, yes he had. Well- he;d certainly left enough of one on Owen here, anyway, and certain others whose names he didn't remember- really, Raseil, what was that look for. S'vyr gave him a quick, impish little smirk, and flicked his fingers- go on, shoo, he was saying.

On the other hand, handsome here appeared to be more than adequate at handling himself in a crisis (because this totally was, if only because shards if S'vyr was going anywhere near anything even resembling Fort) and the gambler was ducking out of the way (good boy) and beating a hasty retreat. S'vyr followed suit, waiting for Owen to lunge again and sidestepping just enough to send the blonde man barreling into one of the Hall guards. Distraction achieved. And while the burly bouncers were dealing with that, S'vyr darted after Raseil into the allweyways. He glanced up, glad for the overhead support- he wished he'd ever managed to train his own lazy ball of a blue to do anything but whine and nap- oh well.

Ammy?

He got the fleeting image of a wheeling, spiraling landscape, and a blur of shapes that had to be humans. She/he was too close, had to backwing and duck down behind the cover of a scraggly stand of rocks nearby.

Sorry. I'll be nearby- can you get out?

S'vyr sighed, biting his lower lip nervously. Well- he'd have to wouldn't he?
I'll manage, dearie. Keep out of sight- paint or no, I don;t want you spotted. There's Fortians around.

He got a wave of worry-love-wanttoprotect-careful and dragged his attention off her. Only to find himself watching Raseil watching him, and his mind whirled to catch up on what had just been said.
"What?" He said, frowning. "Oh. yes. No. Wait. Who's asking?" He brushed past Raseil to the end of the alley-path, glancing back and forth and around the corner- "Shit. Yes, yes, I'm THAT S'vyr. Serevyr. Serryn. Renser. Siarron. Sevine. The list is actually quite long, but yes. THAT Serevyr." When he turned back on his heel to face the dark-haired gambler again he was not exactly grinning, but the catlike half-smirk and the glimmer in his eyes was more than enough to reveal his bemusement. He flipped a sarcastic little bow (yes, bows COULD be sarcastic, he;d just bloody well proved that) and spread his hands innocently.
"Why, do you work for my father? I hear he's still got a bounty out on my head."

He ducked back toward the other end of the alley, finding a t-intersection, and he frowned. "Shards. You must know where we're going, right? We need to get to the-" He paused, reorienting himself with Eamith. "Far east border, just past the big woody- oh. Bar, that's a bar." Eamith wasn't great with recognizing signs apparently. He seemed to belatedly realize that he was just assuming Raseil wasn't going to stab him, and he edged back, just out of arm's reach.
"Or wait. Are you going to try to stab me?"

[Wandering Minstrel]

Serevyr seemed pretty damn distracted when they were running, his eyes gaining a slightly faraway look that he'd seen on a few dragonriders and wherhandlers around the gambling hall before. Weird. Nothing he'd ever heard said that the guy was a rider, but... Well, he had disappeared off the face of Pern the past few years, or so said the rumor-mill. And the rumor-mill in a gambling hall was always pretty up-to-date, stories moving with the people that went from hall to hall to prey on the unsuspecting people in other Holds. So Raseil was reasonably sure that, even if he hadn't done anything big, there'd at least be rumors about him being seen in thus-and-such a Hold now and again if he hadn't completely vanished. So.... It might be possible. But then the look disappeared from his eyes, and he realized what his companion in running-like-hell had asked him, and he spat out a response that could have been the words of someone just waking up, for all the clearness they had.

But there was a distinct answer in there. Yes had been his first response, and the first was usually the most honest, as long as it was said quickly and without care. Still, he could be lying - could be used to pretending to be 'that' Serevyr, if it got him where he wanted to be... But... It didn't sound dishonest, which was a stupid thing to go on. Didn't feel like a lie, either, which was a bit less stupid to go on. You got a sense of that sort of thing when you were a gambler. He watched as Serevyr checked around the corner of the alleyways, and glanced back as the con man did so to check if anybody had followed them. It didn't seem like it - he would've heard them - but it never hurt to make certain. And finally, a coherent response. His eyebrows made a bid for his hairline as he listened to just how many pseudonyms that Serevyr had. Well. Um. He supposed, living a life like he did, that he'd need that many names. (Also, it seemed he was rather fond of the letter S.) And the smirk? The bow? Those bloody well confirmed it. He was, indeed, that Serevyr. Though. S'vyr. He was going to just.., hope that that was a name he only used when pretending to be a rider. Though the fact that it was the one he offered first said otherwise. He had a bad feeling about this.

A bounty? Tch. He didn't want money from the hands of a Lord Holder for turning in a person who'd done nothing but what everyone secretly wanted to do to their ruling Holder. It'd be a lot of money, but he'd be remembered by everyone in the halls as someone who'd turn in one of their fellows for some marks. Not something he cared for. He followed the man rather closely, deciding to keep quiet for now. He thought it was pretty dang obvious that if he'd wanted the approval of the rulers of Pern, he'd have just turned the guy in once he started flirting. Annnd damn if that confusion over what the bar was didn't sound suspicious. Though he thought maybe a dragon might know what a bar was when they saw it. Flitter, then...? "Not gonna stab you, too busy focusing on staying outta Fort, thanks," he said distractedly. The bar, the bar, the bar. Through these alleyways, the bar was... There, that way, he'd recognize that stretch of alley anywhere. "Bar's this way," he said, darting into one of the dingier-looking little alleys. He'd run through these to get rid of jealous husbands and boyfriends a thousand times or more. He knew where he was going. "S'vyr - z'at just a useful name to use to get outta trouble, or have you actually got one've those overgrown flitters attached to your head?" He might have to make a run for it if he did...