Intro: "...like the Eagles, but way less country..."

[Johnny x F x]

he said into his handset as he stepped off the train.
"You know me, eternal new kid. yeah i'll be in touch."

flipping the phone shut and pocketing it in one smooth motion , his eyes sparkled slightly in the streetlight as he glanced at the something scribbled in a tattered notebook and scanned the city in front of him. Head down, he set off to make himself at home... First, to find a sword.

All he knew was he'd have to play it super cool until that.

"There's some @#$% freaks out," he mumbled under his breath."Now... about that casino they mentioned..."  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos always thought that charity events put on by casinos were an odd fit. An organization designed to hook one into giving away one's hard-earned cash raising money to put into the hands of its victims, which would most likely turn around and gamble it away again.

But he had promised MacLeod that he would meet him there, had even been talked into donating one of his hoarded sculptures for the cause. Mac could talk me out of my head if I'm not careful, he thought sourly.  

[Johnny x F x]

Unslinging his bag as he ascended the steps, he noticed all the evening wear and felt decidedly out of place."monkey suits everywhere..." he thought.At the entrance, he handed his bag and coat to an attendant and let the wave of electronic light and sound wash over him, the beeping and whistling sounding to his ears like a cacophony of hope and sorrow.

Lifting a green-colored drink from a passing tray, Johnny made his way past the slots, the rows upon countless rows of one-armed bandits standing at attention like hungry soldiers, past the dice, the shouts and muffled curses drifting on cigarette smoke.

Johnny knew better than to waste his time or money on these distractions. He might bet on a fight or two later, but he was here for a round of cards...  

[Immortal Methos]

The sudden buzz of an approaching Immortal stiffened Methos' spine, and he stealthy looked around while reminding himself of his best bolt route if necessary. Probably just MacLeod, he told himself.  

[Johnny x F x]

"@#$%"

Johnny swore under his breath and scanned the foyer, tensing to bolt if necessary... His gaze came to rest levelly on a gentleman he had once met in the streets of London one drunken night in 1818. There'd been no name given at the time (had one of his friends called him "Doc"?), but johnny seemed to remember introducing himself as simply "Kinslayer" as his rapier sloppily cleared its scabbard. There'd been no need to use it then, and he hoped there'd be none now. He waited for the other immortal to acknowledge him, vaguely unconcerned by his own lack of arms.  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos spotted the shaggy-haired young man about the same time he noticed him, and it took only a moment to place the face...

July 1818, London, England

George Gordon Byron, the extravigant and very drunk Lord of Byron, was leaning heavily on his cane as he expounded rather poetically to his companions, one Dr. Benjamin Adams and John Hobhouse, Baron Broughton. The fact that Byron and Hobhouse were still supposed to be in Switzerland made Doc Adams a little nervous lest they be recognized, but Byron had shown his usual disdain for Doc's caution.

"You worry too much, Doc," he slurred out. "There are no warrents on us. Yet. And we're peers, damn it all. Well, John and I, anyway."

"Yes, yes," Methos, who was in fact Doc, said, his voice a hushed whisper, "but let's not tempt fate, shall we? We'll go back to the inn, sleep it off, eh? I've got a ship to catch tomorrow, and you two scamps need to get back to Switz--"

"Now, Doc," Byron snorted. "We came to see you off to America, and by George -- and by that, I mean by me -- we bloody well shall! And there's a pub we haven't hit yet!" He pointed with his cane, nearly falling without the prop.

The buzz of another Immortal had Doc and Byron stiffening, looking about, while John stared at them in confusion. "What?" asked the young baron.

Methos and the newcomer locked eyes, and Byron's sword was out of his scabbard at the same speed and grace as the stranger. Which is to say, with none at all. "Blast, Byron," Methos spat. "Did you bugger his wife too?"

"Never seen him before, Doc," George Byron said cheerfully, waving his sword. "Let's have at it!"

"Kinslayer," the other got out unsteadily.

Methos saw that Byron's opponent was no more eager to lock swords than Doc was, and grabbed Byron about the waist. "Good night, Kinslayer," he called out, pulling the reluctant lord back down the street. "Give me a hand, Hobhouse!"

Present day:

Methos inclined his head at the other, almost two hundred years separating their last encounter. "Kinslayer," he acknowledged, keeping his hands clearly in sight. He watched the man closely, looking for signs of hostility.  

[Johnny x F x]

pulling out a pack of Lucky Strikes, Johnny sauntered over, flipping his zippo open and lit wth a single smooth motion.

"just johnny, these days. Doc?"

Sipping his drink to test it, he finds he likes it.. some kind of gin.. Taking a deeper swig, he looked Methos up and down.

"Nice threads... Why's everyone so dolled up," he asked as he exhaled a lungful of smoke towards the ceiling.  

[Gaston Marceau]

Casinos. Boring. Give the man an old fashioned riverboat and stuff it full of myriad card games and others of chance, and you've got a good time. By far easier to deal with cheaters, bad guys, and other unsavories when you can just toss them in the drink.

Gaston Marceau is here on business rather than pleasure, so all the temptations of the casino go rather easily ignored...except for the waitress offering hurricanes. Priorities, you understand.

It's not until he takes his first sip of the rum cocktail that he feels the familiar buzz of another Immortal...two of them. Joy. If these are the dudes Gaston's been sent to find, his evening could go downhill rather quickly.

He nonchalantly opens the belt on the suede duster coat covering his tuxedo as he strides in the direction of the other Immortals.  

[Johnny x F x]

"Jesus Christ, this place is crawling with us..."

Turning around, his gaze took in the entire room and came to rest on the man in the duster, taking note of a service exit 30 feet to the left and the now crowded main entrance. Taking a step away and settling into a misleadingly nonchalant defensive stance (body at 45 degrees, legs spread comfortably, hands at his sides), he extinguished his cigarette.

"Friend of yours, Doc? He looks like he's looking for trouble..."  

[Immortal Methos]

"Adam Pierson," Methos started, when he too felt the approach of another Immortal. He was through with assuming it was MacLeod, who was probably entertaining some overdressed lovely, but the second he saw the author of the new signature he put his face in his palm and shook his head.

Lord Byron may have been his last student (until Phoenix) but he hadn't been his only student. "No chance he'll just go away..." Methos muttered.  

[Johnny x F x]

"Look, I uhh, have a date with destiny... tell your friend no hard feelings, huh?"

three was certainly a crowd, he thought as he lost himself amidst the black jack pits, finding a stool where he could see the newcomer approaching if he really wanted business.

He re-lit his cigarette, and doubled down first hand.  

[Gaston Marceau]

At last count, Gaston wasn't the one looking for a place to hide while his latest nemesis tracked him down, unlike certain mentors who will go nameless for the moment. And why would he just go away when it's far more entertaining to pester others?

Gaston does relax slightly when he recognizes Methos...his possible marks for the evening fit a much different description. He takes another sip from his cocktail as he approaches. "Gentlemen...fancy meeting you here..."  

[Johnny x F x]

Johnny watched the two men converse from a comfortable distance. He really didn't want to be here too long tonight but Javier said this was the place, so what choice did he have?

looking at two cards facedown on the table before him, he lays down max bet before peeking under the corners. As the coins plunk down, they seem to catch some light reflected in his eyes for a moment... He'd been killed for less money before...

FLASHBACK:
What the#$%@ kinda name was Hobhouse? He swore he'd never get used to this city if he lived a thousand years. Which was actually turning out better than he'd expected when he'd arrived...

The dice cup slammed down in front of him, a gruff "Yer toss!" accompanying and disturbing him from his reverie. Ten minutes later, the cup was still in his hands, and the burly sailors around him were grumbling and cracking their knuckles.

"I'll stand," he calmly told the dealer and finished his drink.
Queen of Diamonds, King of Hearts...

Better take it easy, he reminded himself. Don't want another lynching... Javier better get here effin quick. He motioned for another drink as the mousy girl in the pit dealt another round...  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos peeked at Gaston from between his fingers before sighing and dropping his hand. "Marceau," he smiled, resigned. "Well, isn't this a coincidence." He indicated Kinslayer at the nearby BlackJack Table. "Don't mind my friend Johnny. He's shy."  

[Gaston Marceau]

"Don't act so ashamed, Adam...I haven't done anything yet." Gaston surveys the casino. "Yes, it is interesting the moments fate chooses to force us together, isn't it."

He chuckles lightly as Johnny's shyness is mentioned. "Oh, it's nothing to worry about...we've all been there, I'm sure."