Pyotr, dressed in 21st century clothes from a local secondhand store, is just sitting down to play cards when Zerxus enters the bar. Good Lord. Is he stalking him? Of course he is. The idea was probably to wait until port, hoping to catch him relaxed and with his guard down.
Well, it's not going to happen—he doesn't ever relax—but he may as well act the part, especially since it's similar to the one he was playing anyway. He takes a long sip of his drink and cheerfully waves him over, grinning with slightly unfocused eyes.
"Hey, it's you! Hey, how is it that we never talked since that time on deck?" That's just to throw him off, but he looks earnest. "I never did thank you for that, did I? This guy saved my life!" He waves his arms as the two men across watch with growing impatience. "I've got to buy you a drink," he cheerfully prattles. "Do you want to play with us? It's poker."
Port.
Well, it's not going to happen—he doesn't ever relax—but he may as well act the part, especially since it's similar to the one he was playing anyway. He takes a long sip of his drink and cheerfully waves him over, grinning with slightly unfocused eyes.
"Hey, it's you! Hey, how is it that we never talked since that time on deck?" That's just to throw him off, but he looks earnest. "I never did thank you for that, did I? This guy saved my life!" He waves his arms as the two men across watch with growing impatience. "I've got to buy you a drink," he cheerfully prattles. "Do you want to play with us? It's poker."