Paris, France [Downtown]

[Immortal Methos]

Jake looked exaggeratedly shocked, gasping as he took a step back. "Now, no one said anything about losing any heads," he asserted, almost as if he'd been mildly insulted. "I didn't. Th' Spanish poppycock didn't." He tossed a narrow-eyed look Ramirez's way. "Don't think he did, anyways."

He threw his arms wide, a hurt look on his handsome face. "It's meself, isn't it? Ye're still mad about som'what I did, are ye? Well, what ever it was..." and here he looked as angellic as a pigeon-feeding pirate-hippy derelict in a Paris park could, "I'm sorry."  

[xFTHMx]

"Ahh, the city of lights," Johnny thought to himself. It was good to be home. Sporting a freshly buzzed and red-dyed haircut so any errant watchers didn't recognize him, Johnny was just out taking a stroll, reacquainting himself with his old stomping grounds... Jacob Armande burned a lot of bridges when he left last time, but Johnny F would be unrecognizeable unless the observer knew what to look for.

The park sounded like a good idea right now... Maybe he'd feed some ducks...  

[Immortal Methos]

Jake, mid-near-apology, stopped suddenly, looking around. "D'ye feel that, mateys? 'Tis another o' our kind comin'." He gave the Immortal with the shaking hands a hurt look. "Is this an ambush? Are ye tryin' ta mob poor ol' Jake, you an' these ne'r-do-wells?"  

[xFTHMx]

Jesus, Johnny thought to himself as he felt the familiar tingle. Paris isn't wasting any time, is it?

These had odd tastes... all new to him. That boded well, seeing as anyone who had it in for him he had probably met at least once before. Public place, broad daylight, three of them. Probably nothing to worry about, but still...

He scanned the park ahead of him and immediately saw the group. Good, they were talking... If they were spread out he might be worried about ambush, but instead he just kept his casual stroll.

A cigarette sounded nice right now, but he had smoked his last when he got off the plane. "Addiction's a b***h," he sighed, laughing a bit when a passerby gave him an odd look and a wide berth. Well, nothing for it. Maybe one of these guys had a smoke.  

[Immortal Methos]

Jake's hand went to his sword hilt inside this pea-coat, eyes narrowing as he spotted the red-haired newcomer. "Well, no matter, lads," he muttered. "I'll gi' ye a fight, if'n that's what ye want."

Oddly, with his free hand -- clad in a fingerless glove -- he waved a saucy greeting at the third approaching Immortal.  

[xFTHMx]

As Johnny approached, the gentleman in the hat took on a familiar disposition... Something about that wave, and the swagger contained within...

Johnny didn't remember ever having actually held a conversation with the gentleman, but he DID seem to remember a member of a rival ship who closely resembled him... You never knew what kind of grudges Immortals carried with them, so he decided to take a wide berth... Johnny stepped off into the grass and decided that whatever their business was, it was no affair of his. If the pirate had a grudge, he'd make the pirate find him.

Until that time, he was hellbent on enjoying his trip "home." Some distance off, Johnny stopped and asked a couple if he could borrow a slice of bread and made his way to the pond's shore...  

[Immortal Methos]

Jake watched the red-headed stranger cut a wide swath around the three Immortals, and suddenly the whim of mischief took him over. Gonna get ye killed one day, Jake, me lad. But what fun is life lived too cautiously, eh?

"Hold that thought, mates," he said to Arliss and Ramirez, then headed off in the direction taken by the redhead.  

[xFTHMx]

The park was far too public on such a beautiful afternoon for there to be serious trouble. Johnny didn't look up as he felt the man approaching behind him, but that didn't mean he wasn't prepared for any eventuality.

He tried to remember which port he'd been in that time. He'd probably been drunk...

Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, 1810

He'd been sailing as cook on a two master "Ship of Fortune" crewed mostly by freed slaves. The crew of the Dame Nuit were a motley lot, rowdy even at their best behavior. He had caught a huge Sea Turtle on their way into port that morning and had made the men the best turtle stew they'd ever eaten, so they were showing their gratitude vigorously and in abundance in a rundown bar called (ironically) Place d'Or, and Johnny was eagerly taking advantage of this rarity as he wobbled a bit on his way to a stool at the bar, shouting for more rum.  

[Immortal Methos]

Jake came casually alongside the other Immortal, keeping a careful arm-n-swordlength between them, and looked out at the ducks flocking toward the bread in noisy joy. "Feedin' th' duckies, mate?" he asked cheerfully, then smacked his own forehead. "Stupid question. O'course yer feedin' th' duckies. There they be, after all, eh?"  

[xFTHMx]

"Indeed I am, and indeed there they are. Your powers of observation serve you faithfully," Johnny replied with a smirk, still not looking at the man next to him. "You seem somewhat familiar..."  

[Immortal Methos]

Jake was sneaking peeks at the other man while trying to appear not to. The Immortal was a couple inches taller and a good stone heavier than Jake, and the russet hair was hardly ringing any bells, and yet... "Aye, ye seem somewhat that way to meself, as well. Funny, that."  

[xFTHMx]

Tossing the last of his bread into the water for the growing flock in front of him, Johnny pushed up his sleeves a bit, revealing unmistakeable tattoos covering his arms to the wrist. Modeled after sacred Mayan heiroglyphs, they appeared at first as Henna, but an observant eye would be able to tell right away that they were permanent and were probably applied with the old fashioned quill and mallet.

For the first time, Johnny turned to look the flamboyant gentleman in the face. "So many drunken nights in the last couple hundred years, it's hard to remember exact details, eh? I seem to remember a skipper that resembled yourself. Captain Falcone, was it? I was a sailor on the Dame Nuit for a spell. Sailed all over the Caribean and the Gulf, even made it as far as Africa with those boys. There were other ships before and after, but for some reason Port-Au-Prince won't leave my thoughts."  

[Immortal Methos]

Jake's eyes widened slightly at the other man's words and the sight of the henna-coloured tattoos, then narrowed as if he were plumbing the depths of a soggy memory. "Port-Au-Prince, ye say?"

The slightly nerve-jangling sensation that signaled the presence of another of his kind sent Capt. Peter Falcone rocking slightly back on unsteady heels as he started to enter Place d'Or, and he almost ducked out again before he remembered that a bar full of superstitious witnesses could be a peace-loving, not-quite-honest Immortal's best bet.

Besides, he was in desperate need of funds. And a crew.

Jake tapped his chin, thoughtful. "I'm havin' a memory... Pretty ink, by th' by."  

[xFTHMx]

"Glad you think so. I seem to remember our first mate decking you when you tried to solicit some of our boys to jump ship and sail with you." He laughed softly. "I don't remember much after that. Someone throws a punch and everyone's fair game, it seems.

"You wouldn't happen to have a smoke, would you? I'm fiending."  

[Immortal Methos]

"Oh aye," Jake nodded sagely as he fished a long flat tin out of one of his many pockets and opened it. "Tha's shook th' memory loose. Almost shook teeth loose, as l recall." He offered the contents of the tin to him -- there were several carefully handrolled cigarettes lying side by side.

"A fight's a grand way ta garner collections," he chuckled, remembering the melee fondly, brown eyes twinkling. "Lots o' monies get lost when th' fists start flyin'. Who can say who they wanders off with, eh?"