Hokkaido Island

[Gaston Marceau]

36 hours after the events in "Junior, burn the house down..."
48 hours before Methos clumsily gets knocked upside the head. wink

Hokkaido Island, Japan
An Ultra High Security Airfield
Owned by Hokkaido Industries
(A partner company of Balance Incorporated)

"Blackbird 2S-4708, you have clearance for landing on Runway Delta. Ground crews are standing by, as well as secure escort for Consul Han."

"Roger that, Hokkaido Control." Gaston responded through the radio in his oxygen mask. "I have positive tracking, estimate touch down in two minutes."

The elegant reconnaisance craft decelerated below the sound barrier, quickly bleeding off speed as it approached the island's coastline and began lining up with the indicated runway.

(OOC - Click to see Gaston's transportation.)

Skillfully setting the craft down, Gaston taxied the converted reconnaisance craft in the directions indicated by the ground crew, eventually coming to a stop inside a hangar that looked very much as if it were run by the military.

As he powered the two seater SR-71 down, he communicated with the passenger in the rear cabin. "Consul Han, we have arrived on schedule. On behalf of Lord Drake and Chief of Staff Hawk, Balance thanks you for your assistance in recent days, and we hope we may share the honor of your presence again soon."

After the foreign dignitary responded with similar pleasantries and was escorted from the aircraft, Gaston opened the small cargo compartment, removed his duffel, and left the plane. He checked out with the Hokkaido security personnel and arranged to rent a car for his trip to Futaba Mao's lands in the mountains. With luck, the two week respite from the outside world would do him some good.  

[Gaston Marceau]

The house in the mountains stood isolated, approximately two miles from the nearest town...far enough away to effectively block out the majority of modern distractions. So it was that Gaston left his rented vehicle in town and strode easily up to the mountain path.

The familiar buzz of a nearby Immortal told Gaston that the occupant still lived there. as he rounded a final bend, Gaston found the other man patiently tending a small garden frame by two cherry trees. Seemingly unbothered in the least by the approach of another of his kind, the gardener calls out. "Greetings, stranger. You have come a long way to see me."

"Greetings to you as well, Futaba Mao. It has been a long time." Gaston responded, stopping just inside the garden's borders.

Mao's eyes looked up from his gardening briefly to respond. "Hokori Wu...I had not thought to see you again. You have lived two other lives since last we spoke...I am surprised to see you returning to the facets of one past."

Gaston nodded. "Yes, I do tend to wander aimlessly a bit from decade to decade, but I need your help...I want to rediscover the life I lived here all those years ago. It brought me to a level of peace I have not been able to duplicate since."

Mao chuckled. "You amuse me, Wu. I have lived but one life...the life I continue to live...for twelve hundred years. I have peace and tranquility, and what few material trappings I require are close at hand. All your wanderings have done was dilute your spirit and confuse you along your life's path."

"Perhaps." Gaston said. "All the more reason to find a guide."

"We shall see." Mao responded. He stood, bowing in greeting. "Nonetheless, welcome to my home. You may stay as you like, though any rediscovery will be your own...I will continue tolive my life...train, work the garden, revel in the world around me. As I do so, I would be honored to share your company."  

[Gaston Marceau]

The two Immortals went through their morning exercises in a meadow just past Mao's garden. Wooden practice swords weaved and slashed through a series of solo practice katas, the muscles of the men wielding them building a memory of the movements, eventually allowing for more precise cuts.

Unfortunately, the younger man's practice katana did not move through the air as gracefully as his counterparts. "Release your mind, Wu." Mao remarked, observing Gaston's movements. "Your thoughts cloud your attacks and defenses. Think less. Feel more...your body as well as the world around you."

Gaston frowned slightly, trying to put his hosts' advice into practice. "I've had a lot on my mind recently...it's difficult to focus."

"You must strive to put such forcefulness behind you." Mao admonished. "Let the sword become an extension of the arm...do not force it's path, let the curve of the blade guide your arm in its cut. Let the harmony of blade and body come to you. The harder your attempt to force it, the greater your difficulty."

Gaston nodded, not voicing any response, as that only seemed to increase his tensions. He let himself start to relax, using the kata as a meditatative outlet, calming his mind and smoothing the ripples of his soul. Slowly, very slowly, Gaston's movements began to mirror the graceful cuts and turns of Mao's. He was making progress.  

[Gaston Marceau]

Gaston, known here as Hokori Wu, sat cross legged next to Futaba Mao, both meditating quietly in the center of the older Immortal's immaculately tended garden. The two men had sat like this in silent contemplation for the better part of two hours now. Gaston had only been here a little over a day, but he was already getting a handle on his rage and rediscovering his center...he still had a ways to go, but all in all the visit was doing Gaston a world of good.

At the conclusion of his meditative cycle, Mao's eyes slowly opened to regard that of his companion. "You are making progress, Wu. The frenetic pace of your chosen life is slowing...things are steadily becoming more clear to you, I think."

Gaston nodded quietly. "They are. My time here has already been well spent. When I first came to Japan all those years ago, it led to the most calm period in my life. It feels good to be getting that back."