The Seacouver Night Club

[Geno Roads]

He smiles. "Well, who says I will be crying." Raises his sword.  

[Immortal Methos]

Duncan laughed as Methos stopped circling and stood ready -- and nothing more. "You might as well start in, Geno," the Scot said. "Methos won't make the first move unless he's serious and knows you are too. He's hoping you'll get bored and buy him a beer."

Methos stuck his tongue out at MacLeod.  

[Geno Roads]

Geno smiles. "I have no problem buying my old Friend a beer." Geno circles one last time before literally leaping at Methos. His high as he tries to strike at Methos.  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos' block was so swift it looked instinctive, faster than thought, the response of a being for whom the drive to survive was nearly first nature. Twisting his blade against Geno's, he ripped forward and up in an effort to send his opponent's sword flying.  

[Geno Roads]

Geno merely kept his sword in his hand as his friend tried to send it flying. He smirked and readied his blade for a strike. "You are pretty good, my friend." Geno chuckled.  

[Immortal Methos]

"You're not bad yourself, kid," Methos grinned back, blocking Geno's next strike before going on the offensive with a flurry of blows. "That move has disarmed some of the best I've faced."  

[Geno Roads]

"Kid?!" Geno glared before smiling. He block many of Methos' blows before one caught his unarmed arm, he groaned. He attacked Methos with a series of thrusts and slashes, grinning.  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos leaped back, just avoiding a slash across his torso, then busied himself blocking the expert series of lightening thrusts. He was knicked a few times before one of the thrusts got through and jabbed into his shoulder. Methos yelped in surprise and pain, flinging himself back to gain a little distance.

On the bench, Duncan stiffened, watching tensely though he knew the fight was just play -- play with sharp objects, expect to get cut.  

[Geno Roads]

Geno chuckled and held his stance, sword ready to strike at anything that moved. His old friend had jumped back from a wound and so Geno took two steps forward. His sword raised, he smiled. "So do you like this, Methos?"  

[Immortal Methos]

"Not in the slightest," Methos grinned, suddenly leaping forward to press the attack. The Ivanhoe broadsword raised sparks as blade met blade with ringing steel.  

[Geno Roads]

He grinned and pressed harder, pushing Methos back. He chuckled and slashed his sword outward, attempting to strike Methos' stomach.  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos leaped straight up, catlike, letting Geno's blade whistle through the air just under his boots, landing as the sword's arc reached its farthest apex. As he did so he slashed downward with the Ivanhoe, attempting to cleave his friend's collarbone.  

[Geno Roads]

Geno saw Methos' sword flying down at him, he quickly rolled out of the way and sprang to his feet, sword ready to strike. He waited for Methos to land before he slashes at his chest and stomach again, this time at another angle.  

[Immortal Methos]

Methos couldn't recover quickly enough to completely miss the first slash, though he effectively blocked the second. His cable sweater parted across his chest where the sharp blade had sliced through the layers of material to the skin, a fresh bloom of red spattering the white wool.

"That's one of my favourite sweaters!" Methos wailed pitiously, holding the length of his sword between them. "Geno, damn it all!"  

[Geno Roads]

Geno merely grinned and chuckled. "Look old friend, I can buy thousands of those sweaters. Don't get mad because you decided to fight." He held his sword, ready to strike.