The headaches began after he came out of the ice...

[justakidfrombrklyn]

To say that a lot of things had changed once he'd come out of the ice wasn't just an understatement; it was practically cruel. The worst part in a lot of ways, though, was the way people treated him: as if the ice had preserved him, kept him exactly as he'd been when he'd sent the plane crash landing into the Atlantic.

It couldn't be further from the truth, though.

He'd died. The water had rushed in, the cold had soaked into his bones, the ice had taken over and he'd died and he'd felt it as he'd died. He'd felt the cold, woken up a dozen times stuck in the ice, unable to move and let it consume him, again and again. He still had nightmares about it, nightmares he didn't share because they were so ridiculous in some ways, debilitating in others.

And then there were the headaches.

He only got them occasionally, a strange buzz beginning behind his eyes and around, his eyes shifting unbidden as if he could find the cause for something that was going on inside his own head. And yet, sometimes it really felt like he could. He'd look around, the feeling exploding inside his skull, and he'd suddenly meet eyes with someone and the feeling would suddenly vanish. Usually, the person in question would blink at him and rush off, which was fair since one of the cardinal rules of walking around a large city was to avoid eye contact unless necessary. He didn't think too much about it until he went back to Europe, back at war again in his search for his lost... friend...

Which was when the buzzing headaches started to get far more frequent.

Sam, the finest companion a man could ask for, had decided to follow a lead in Madrid that Natasha had sent their way (one that would have been set off badly had Captain America's well-known mug shown up) which had left Steve enjoying the sights and snooping around Paris for the time being. Thankfully, there was a lot to see, a lot to investigate, but also... a lot to draw.

Beautiful things to draw.

He was halfway through sketching out a panel of the Arc De Triomph when he felt it there, head lifting from the paper to try and find the 'cause'. This was getting mildly ridiculous...

Comments

[justakidfrombrklyn]

Steve swallowed harshly as he watched the knife get yanked over the man's skin... and then blinked as the lightning crackled across it.

"I've... never seen anything like that. Not that I regularly watch when I take a hit."

[im_just_a_guy]

"No, you wouldn't, would you? And don't you usually wear body armour?" Methos smiled a little, and flipped the knife around, offering it hilt-first to Rogers.

"Give it a try."

[justakidfrombrklyn]

He reached forward slowly to take the blade, careful nonetheless not to cut the other man as he pulled it from him. Then he drew the edge along his hand, hissing slightly; the serum had improved all of his senses, including his sense of touch and by extension, his pain receptors. He'd learned to power through it, but--

A low buzz that almost seemed familiar crackled from the wound as it knit together again, somewhat more slowly than Adam's had.

He blinked. Because.

Well, damn.

[im_just_a_guy]

"That," Methos said. "Is what we call the Quickening. It's what makes us Immortal; fast to heal, never aging, and if you die, you get right back up again. Though the speed of that depends somewhat on the manner in which you die. I don't, for instance, recommend immolation." His lips quirked up a little, in acknowledgement of dark humour.

"There is," he continued after a moment. "One way that you can die permanently: decapitation."

[justakidfrombrklyn]

"That's...that's the only way I can die? Decapitation?" he asked quietly, the words hitting him someplace hard inside. It meant... it meant a lot of things. Good things, but also bad things. Painful things. He'd already felt the pain of out living people he loved and cared about, but he'd also thought he was done with that.

Now...

Now he--

"Otherwise, I'll just... keep on living. Like this."

He'd thought he'd die a thousand times in the back alleys of Brooklyn. He thought he'd die when he signed up to go to Europe. He'd sealed the deal when he'd crashed the plane. Woken up, done what he could, and then the helicarriers...

But now...

He held the knife out for Adam to take, hilt to him as it'd been offered.

"Good to know, I guess."

[im_just_a_guy]

"Like I said: I'm sorry," Methos replied, taking the knife, and putting it back where it belonged.

"Now, there are a few more things you ought to know. For instance, there are plenty of other folks like you and I, which is both good, and bad. Good, because you can make friends who'll be along for the eternal ride with you. Bad, because a lot of the other Immortals are going to want your head.

"You see, there's this stupid Game that we all get dragged into playing." He rolled his eyes to show just what he thought of that, and continued, "There's this old legend, you see. That we all have to kill each other until there's only one left, and whoever that is, he or she get the Prize, whatever that is. No matter what anyone else tells you, nobody actually knows for sure what it is, though people certainly have ideas. Mostly along the lines of ultimate power, or something like that. Holy ground-" he bent down, and patted the earth beside him "-is the only place that they can't challenge you do a fight."

[justakidfrombrklyn]

He looked around at the garden, obviously processing, before turning back to Adam.

"So why are you the first one to approach me?" he asked quietly, "Or try to kill me? After all, I didn't know any of this. And I... don't spend that much time on holy ground."

Because the 'Game' sounded incredibly stupid, but he knew that men would kill for power. And the promise of ultimate power? Absolutely.

[im_just_a_guy]

"Well, at a guess? Either they're starstuck, scared stiff, or some more practical combination of the two that made them decide that you can be somebody else's problem," Methos replied. "Me, I figured somebody ought to tell you, before some crazy idiot came for your head."

[justakidfrombrklyn]

"A bullet can still drop me and then it's just a matter of walking up and finishing the job," Steve pointed out, "not to mention that everyone sleeps, even me."

[im_just_a_guy]

"Most of us consider using anything but a bladed weapon and one-on-one combat to be foul play," Methos replied, shrugging. "There have to be some rules, otherwise none of us would do anything but hideout in monasteries on mountaintops. So here's how it breaks down: Fights are one-on-one, generally with bladed weapons, like swords, axes, and so on. Someplace private; few or no witnesses is the usual. And absolutely no fighting on holy ground - anybody's holy ground. Churches, mosques, sacred groves, old standing stones, graveyards... The works."

[justakidfrombrklyn]

He nodded along to the words and he couldn't help a slight smile curling at the corner of his lips.

"What about a shield?"

The man knew his name, he almost certainly knew his reputation... and his own signature weapon.

[im_just_a_guy]

Methos just laughed.

"That shouldn't be a problem - except for everyone else. Just remember that even though you have to be ready if someone challenges you, you don't have to play the game."

[justakidfrombrklyn]

He shook his head.

"I have no intention of going around and killing people just because they happen to be like me," Steve admitted with a shrug.

"I'm no stranger to taking a life, but there should be a purpose to it. A reason. Whatever this Prize is, that'... no reason at all to me."

[im_just_a_guy]

"Good. You know, I thought so, but I'm glad to hear it," Methos replied. "So, that's the basics; you already know how to fight, which is usually a worry, so on that note... Any questions?"

[justakidfrombrklyn]

He looked over at Adam for a moment before leaning back.

"Would you be willing to grab a meal with me? It'd be off holy ground but... as you can see, I'm not exactly up for a duel."

[im_just_a_guy]

"If you're buying, sure," Methos replied cheerfully.

[justakidfrombrklyn]

"I'd never ask anyone to cover my food bill. The uninitiated don't deserve that kind of surprise," he said as he stood up, slinging the backpack over his shoulder. Then he offered his hand.

"Incidentally, the name's Steve. A pleasure to meet you, Adam, even if it's... a little weird."

[im_just_a_guy]

Methos reached out, and shook the hand of Captain America - Steve - and could help but grin.

"The pleasure's all mine, Steve. Did you have some place in mind?" It was too early for Joe's, no matter how much he wanted to show up, Steve in tow, and make his old friend do a spittake.

[justakidfrombrklyn]

Steve grinned back."I'm no local, but I've been waiting up for my friend a couple days, so I know a place that serves pretty good food. Follow me this time?"

[im_just_a_guy]

Methos gestured for Steve to lead the way.

"Certainly."

[justakidfrombrklyn]

He put his hands to the straps and looked back at Adam.

"So. What has you in Paris? The accent says you're not exactly a local."

[im_just_a_guy]

"No, I'm not," he agreed. "I'm just visiting, though I did live here for a while in the nineties, so I still know a few people around. And Paris is a great city; good food, interesting people, nice art, and plenty of holy ground."

[justakidfrombrklyn]

"I have a feeling that last one's going to become more helpful than I ever thought it could be. Then again--"

He looked sideways at Adam.

"Holy ground counts for any religion, I hope. Not just churches, right?"

[im_just_a_guy]

"I said so, didn't I? Anybody's holy ground means everybody's. It's pretty handy, really," Methos replied. "India, for instance, is practically crawling with it. Greece, too. The whole Middle East... Well. But that's always been the case."

[justakidfrombrklyn]

"It's just... I happen to know a Norse god personally is all, and he may be willing to make sure that my apartment is a bit safer, now that I know," he said with a little smile.