"Well, then you have to make sure it isn't a wig," mischief points out.
"With the potion?" he asks--quietly, so as not to derail Rus's train of thought before he understands it. Since he really doesn't think Rus is talking about the potion.
The hands go back over his nose. "Well, it was one of the Severii who finished the wall north of Hadrian's," he volunteers, slightly muffled.
"Should you push for a higher percentage on my wins?" Severus asks hastily and quietly (he really is asking) as T1 bustles up, the side of his mouth that's away from the man smirked up. "Or will that red-flag that it's a scam?" By the time T1 has made it over and started talking, though, he's turned back to the dartboard with an expression of indifference and has started number-spelling out incantations, those being unlikely to make his throws look consistent.