Go Jump In A Lake
Who: Oona, Methos
When: Day 36, early afternoon
Where: Waterfall lake, Due East of Camp Crash II
Invited: anyone wandering due east...
Status: Complete
Methos wiped the sweat from his face and Oona managed an inward sigh. Why was it men managed to look sexy as hell when hot and sweaty, and women looked just... like hell. Ah, well, unfairness was ( Read more... )
When: Day 36, early afternoon
Where: Waterfall lake, Due East of Camp Crash II
Invited: anyone wandering due east...
Status: Complete
Methos wiped the sweat from his face and Oona managed an inward sigh. Why was it men managed to look sexy as hell when hot and sweaty, and women looked just... like hell. Ah, well, unfairness was ( Read more... )
She was not shocked or appalled. It was long ago. If anything, she felt a twinge of sympathy. What he had done was no doubt horrible. But how long had he had to live with it? With the blood on his hands? She was not one to judge something that happened centuries before her time. She may be able to travel through time, but not in a personal timeline. He had been chosen because he was someone the cause of Balance needed, and someone her father likened himself to. She could see that connection easily with Methos’ revelations. Yes, he had darkness in him. But he also had to have as much potential for light.
Oona was glad something brought him more pleasant memories. “The shells were all Molly’s idea. She said this style just begged embellishment.” She shrugged.
“You are part of something bigger. The moment you chose to accept the necklace and what it implied, you became a warrior in the cause of Balance. You need not fear such. Most who serve balance never leave their home realm. Never face a single battle on any grand scale. Single events, occasional need to intervene, that is what most face.” She wanted to reassure him, as he had already mentioned seeing enough death. Death may be involved, but not necessarily in large battles.
She shivered as Methos traced the tattoo with his fingers. The digits were warm, uncalloused and glided over her own perspiration. She felt a physical reaction and she moved away.
“If we are sharing secrets, I have but one more to share.” She smiled softly.
Then she disappeared. Her clothing stood in her shape for half a second before it dropped to the ground. Something in the puddle of fabric moved, wriggled, then, the head of an albino hare poked out of the neck of the tank top.
The hare actually winked at Methos, them wriggled free of the cloth and hopped to the edge of the lake before wading in. . The small rabbit paddled out ten feet, then slipped under the water.
Seconds later Oona surfaced, grinning.
“Come on in, the water’s beautiful.”
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He nodded at her answer that the shells were all Molly's idea, "So I owe Jack for getting little Aaron safely out of the bunker, and Molly for bringing back some happy memories."
Methos laughed and shook his head, "I knew when I started keeping score here the list would just grow and grow. At least so far it isn't too unpleasant."
He smiled softly with Oona's assurance that he was part of something bigger, but most warriors in the cause of Balance never faced a single battle on any grand scale, "It's okay. You've seen today, just because I don't like to fight, doesn't mean I can't. The Horsemen, the other three, they're all gone now and I killed one of them. We were brothers in arms, in blood, in everything except birth once, but while I changed they didn't."
Methos controlled himself, not leaning into her or drawing back sharply at the shiver his touch drew from her. He wondered though when she moved away from him if it was the only thing she could do to control her own reaction.
He grinned, "We do seem to be sharing secrets. I'd only intended to tell you enough to help you understand how your father might have thought you could help me. But, I guess having him believe in me left me believing in you."
Methos blinked in surprise with Oona's disappearance. He was sure he didn't need to panic. She'd spoken of sharing a secret before she disappeared. Methos waited to see what her last one was. He couldn't help but laugh in further surprise at the albino hare when it poked out of the neck of the tank top. He'd forgotten how she'd been Alice's White Rabbit in the dream. Methos wasn't at all surprised that the hare winked at him before hoping to the lake.
"I can see why I don't have to watch out for Jack's looking for a show, still you should be careful about using that on an island with a bunch of castaways that might like the idea of rabbit stew," he grinned cheerfully as she paddled out.
Methos nodded at her encouragement to come in, but hesitated. First he set his bamboo sword aside. It was fine for sparring, but it wasn't the protection his own sword was. Methos picked his own up, knowing with his long memories why it's presence in his hands was reassuring. He moved closer to the lake, set his sword down, and took off his jeans, leaving them with his sword.
"I, uh, I'm not exactly fond of the water. Crossed the Atlantic to Iceland with a bunch of Irish monks, 765 A.D. Six of us in a row boat, no facilities. But this isn't the North Atlantic..." Methos words trailed off as he got into the water.
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"Oh, believe it or not I actually think Jack wouldn't intrude without an invite. He's an odd mix of hedonist and occasional gentleman. However, Sawyer I wouldn't trust further than I could toss him." Oona had to laugh. "And I can't get dressed quite so efficiently. So it's like a one way trick."
She swam out a bit more, her back to shore and unable to see Methos at all. "Believe me, I am all to well aware of being a prey animal in that form. Raptors, dogs, people, cats, basically anything that eats meat. But it is useful for sneaking into and out of places, or covering great distances very quickly."
"How on earth did you end up in a row boat with five monks? And why does that sound like the beginning of a bad bar joke?" Oona tread water, enjoying the cool water and the momentary peaceful calm. This place was like a tiny bit of paradise. The whole island deceptively appeared like a haven. Until something tried to eat you.
Oona looked down. The water was fairly clear, although it gave the illusion of modesty. She wondered what could be in the deeper part. It was too small to support something like a pliosaur.
It was a useful distraction that didn't quite banish the knowledge that Adam was either getting undressed behind her or already in the water.
She really needed to get control of herself. It was ridiculous. No man had effected her in such a manner. Not that she was above admiring. But she'd never yearned to reach out and touch. It was madness. A distraction. The problem was, having never had this problem, she didn't know how to counter it.
And the really troublesome thing was he was not even trying. He was being nothing but friendly. Trusting her even. And she was humbled by that trust. Even if it was rooted in her father. She would not betray such a trust, ever. And she felt her uncomfortable physical reaction and ridiculous attraction was a betrayal, in a way.
She realized he had been silent for a bit, not answering her question. She dared to look over her shoulder and could not see him.
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He considered her words about Jack, "I don't know whether or not I believe it. I don't really know that much about Jack."
Methos chuckled with Oona's admittance that it was something of a one way trick, "Oooh, so I will have be on guard for Sawyer later?"
He enjoyed what he could see of her as she swam out a bit more, taking in the body moving away from him through the water. Methos listened to her assurance that she was well aware of being a prey animal in her rabbit form. He admitted, "I can see how it must be useful sneaking in and out of places, but I hadn't thought about it being good for covering great distances very quickly."
Methos responded to Oona's first question with a pained sigh, "I was staying with the monks when some Viking raiders stole anything that looked like it might have some value from their monastery. We tried to get some of the manuscripts back. The better question is how we wound up on our way to Iceland."
He considers her second one, "Not sure why it sounds like that. I haven't tried making a bar joke out of it. It was a bad enough one as it was."
Methos moved out into the water, not exactly following along in Oona's wake, but enjoying stretching his legs and reminding himself that swimming could be done just for fun rather than as a necessary part of survival. The water was cool around him, a nice change of pace from the water that hung in the air. The lake was quiet except for the sounds of the two of them in it. It could make someone forget how dangerous the island was, not him, but someone.
He wasn't sure, when it seemed like she was looking down, if she would hear him explain why he'd been staying at the monastery, but he decided to offer the explanation, "I was at the monastery because it was Holy Ground. It's the one place Immortals are safe from the Game. We can't fight there. Some of us rest there for a while. I was. Others have tried hiding out there, but..."
After Methos had said what he'd been doing in and Irish monastery he decided to find out what Oona was looking at. He took a deep breath, and ducked down into the water, swimming along under it in the direction she'd been looking. Methos wondered briefly if he should worry about coming face to face with a pliosaur given the oddness of the island. He decided, as strange as it was, given the size of the lake he should worry more about a big monitor lizard.
Nothing, and having gone looking for what she'd been looking at now he was closer to her than he'd intended to get. The water was cool, and it did help, but finding himself with a need to change direction left Methos wondering just how close Oona was. If he surfaced to get better bearings would he be face to face with her? Would that be a terrible thing or would it be something else?
Methos decided to find out. He broke the surface close to her.
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She hoped he had his eyes closed. Really, really hoped. Between having the coloring of a corpse and the scars from when mage healers had been unavailable… Well it was supposed to be a pleasant swim not have him fighting to keep a polite face the rest of the way back while not really looking at her.
“So,” She hoped her voice hadn’t squeaked quite as much as she thought on the word. She swallowed and forced herself to speak as if there was no possibility the man before her might have seen her looking like the scarred underbelly of a fish.
“So you went to a monastery because it was safe, then it got raided by Vikings.” Okay, so she wasn’t exactly looking at him, but over his shoulder. For an occasional scout, she was getting way to easily flustered here. “Your luck is abysmal, by the way. So what made you leave the safety of the monastery to go retrieve manuscripts? A sense of duty to knowledge? A desire to repay the monks? A sudden, raging desire to take up seafaring in a rowboat?”
Treading water was automatic, thank the Balance, or she’d be drowning.
Then she half wished she would drown when the tips of her fingers brushed briefly over Methos’ warm side, his ribs, by accident. If it wasn’t accidental she and her subconscious were going to have a good long talk.
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He opened his eyes with Oona's squeaked, "So."
Methos waited for her to finish the sentence she'd been seeking to start. He heard her out. After Methos responded, "Yes, I went to the monastery because I was safe from other Immortals there."
He had to laugh, and agree with Oona, "Yes, my luck is abysmal. I wonder sometimes if I'm still paying for what I use to be."
Methos considered why he'd left the safety of the monastery to chase after some manuscripts with the monks. He'd been passionate about it then, even for a time while they were drifting further and further out to sea. Methos answered, "A sense of duty, and a desire to repay the monks were part of it. A sudden raging desire to take up seafaring in a rowboat wasn't. We were suppose to have the manuscripts back before we got swept out to sea."
His thoughts froze when he felt Oona's fingers brush briefly over his side. Methos resisted turning his head to look at her despite how much he wanted to see the look on her face. Had the touch been an accident or something else? He continued to talk instead, "Along with having cared about the monks and the manuscripts I was angry at the Vikings for everything they'd done. I was still... passionate about trying to make up for my past."
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Oona looked up. "It will be noon soon. I suppose we should head back. Before the rain hits. Although being wet right now is rather pleasent."
Oona dove under once more, allowing the cool water to flow over her face and through her hair. She emerged closer to shore.
It was a distinct temptation to linger and simply swim, to frolic in the water and just be a normal young woman for a little while. But she had never been a normal young woman. And the longer she was out, especially in the water, the more likely she was to burn. They still had a three mile trek back, although downhill would be a bit easier.
Then it was there. The whispering. She couldn't make out words, just voices. More than one.
"Adam, I'm hearing the whispers again." She did not hesitate to inform him.
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He turned to see her look up, agreeing, "We should head back. There's the rain to beat back, and the question of what's been going on in camp while we've been gone. Life hasn't stopped just for us."
Methos watched Oona dive under, disappearing from his sight. He was tempted to follow her down; to see more of Elric's daughter. While they had the beginnings of a connection there was a great deal of Oona's life he still knew little about. Methos saw her when she emerged closer to shore. He wondered if she intended to get out of the water without asking him to turn around, even though she'd been quick to avert her eyes from his own stripping down earlier.
He tensed when she spoke his name. Methos listened to the words that followed, ready to move quickly. Before he headed for the shore and the comforting presence of his sword waiting there for him he asked, "Anything different about them? Anything at all? A sense of the number of voices? Or a direction they're coming from?"
While Methos kept his head above the water to hear Oona's answers he moved steadily, and warily towards the shore. It would do him no good to make straight for his sword if whatever was haunting(?)... Stalking(?)... Oona(?)... Them(?)... arrived before he reached his sword.
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Oona had instinctively trusted Adam to look away or turn his back. It hadn’t occurred to her he would watch her climb out, because it didn’t occur to her that he would particularly want to look. Although if he did she would be mortified. The sword scar along the top of her left hip did not add to her minimal appeal, nor did the scars on her thighs where she had been stabbed and sliced by Dharma, or the puckered arrow scar front and back just under her right collarbone close to the shoulder. The marks of a fighter.
“Multiple voices, shhh… This isn’t in my head… or at least not totally.” She held up her hand.
Yes, there, past the clearing, the faint sound of whispers came from beyond the trees. At least four, possibly more. One female.
She waited to see some indication that Methos heard them as well. He evidently heard something because he turned his head towards one of the louder ones.
“They have to see we’re aware of them.” Oona wanted to get on land and grab the stone knife, some weapon. But the water was safer. If the others had guns, a dive would deflect the bullets, and making them swim out to get them would make a blade fight very difficult.
OOC:*The whispers have been heard before, in the early months of the game when we followed Lost a bit.*
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Methos decided not to watch Oona close to shore for long, imagining that since she turned away from him she'd expect him to do the same. He caught only a glimpse of the puckered arrow scar on her back close to her shoulder before he turned away. Methos did listen for Oona's answers to his questions.
"Multiple..." he began to question her words before falling silent at her raised hand calling for his silence. Once they were quiet he could hear something too. Methos turned his head toward the sounds, straining to catch as much detail as he could. Oona was right, there were multiple voices. He couldn't be certain but one of them might be female.
"Mmh, yes they should see we're aware of them. They could be waiting for us to come to them, or they could be working on a schedule. If they're the voices you heard before, or even just connected to them, we've had company since we left camp," Methos spoke to Oona while he wondered if their company was on a schedule.
They might be free to not go to the voices, but what did they have for choices if the voices got impatient? His sword, the stone knives, and the bamboo they'd worked hard at cutting was all over on the shore. Did he remember seeing anything in the water they might be able to use as a weapon if they needed one? A stone, a stick, something. Methos said, "If they've been with us all along I wonder what brought them in now."
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If thew swam across the lake with it's shape, they'd be at an advantage, as the whisperer's would have to run to catch up.
Oona put a hand on Adam's arm and pulled him back, lightly, putting some distance. She was concerned, but not panicing.
Once out of earshot, she took up whispering.
"We could swim that way, beat them to a section of shore and leg it. Okay, running naked through the jungle isn't fun or dignified. But if you draw them off I can hare out and circle round to get our things."
A sudden terrible coldness swept over Oona. She didn't know if Adam could feel it. It was... sensuous, magnetic, and very dangerous. If the hairs at her nape were not already standing, they would have then.
She felt watched, not my whomever was whispering, though they had to be watching, but by something else, something to the north. She looked to see if she could spot anything in that direction. She felt like she was being undressed, even though she was already naked. Her soul was being peered at, judged. As sensual as the feeling was, it was also revolting.
Suddenly the birds launched into the air from the trees in the direction of the whispers. The sudden flapping of many wings and cries of alarm made her startle.
No one emerged from the wood.
"I... I think it frieghtened them."
Had Adam felt it as well?
*He most likely felt the same thing. North is, I believe, the direction of the bunker crater. ;)
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Methos nodded with Oona's opinion, "We're certainly away from our weapons and naked. But, if they're the voices you heard earlier, it isn't the first warning they've given us they were following us. If they wanted us vulnerable why give us that warning they were there? We might've kept our weapons."
He felt her hand on his arm and let her pull him back, putting more distance between them and where the whispers seemed to be coming from. Methos found himself wondering why the whispers had spoken before, and whether panic was truly what they were waiting for. He was in no mood to panic.
Methos focused on Oona's whispered words, responding to them with an equally soft whisper, "Running naked through jungle isn't fun or dignified, not even if you've had some practice, but as long as you put survival ahead of your dignity you can get a lot of things done. What if they won't follow me?"
He gasped at the sudden coldness that swept over him. Quickly Methos looked at Oona trying to decide if he alone felt the sensation. It was cold and dangerous, but sensuous and magnetic too. He was drawn to look north in the direction he felt the new sensation was coming at them from.
While Methos didn't startle with the flight of the birds, he did swallow when Oona spoke, admitting after, "If they were frightened by that I can't blame them. I'm use to cold winds blowing from the north, but to call that a wind wouldn't begin to describe it. It... it felt somehow sensual and terrible."
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“I’m going to suggest we get dressed and make a strategic advance to the rear.” She turned to look at Adam’s face. Now was definitely not the time to be considering how striking his eyes were. Distractions were bad.
“I won’t look if you don’t.”
Not waiting for a response she moved forward, wading back out of the lake, keeping her eyes on the trees and the ground to preserve Adam’s dignity. Taking up her clothing she turned her back to where Adam’s lay. She preferred that over moving behind a bush or tall grasses, and out of range to help or be helped if an attack came.
Pulling on clothing when wet was frustrating, and took extra tugging and wriggling. As it was the cloth was pasted to skin. But the discomfort was evened out by the feeling of being less vulnerable. The solid weight of the stone blade in her hand added to that.
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He had an urge to place a comforting hand on her shoulder once he saw that she was chewing her bottom lip. Methos resisted, uncertain how Oona would take the touch, and for that matter if he could simply offer a friendly one.
Methos waited until she was turned to look at his face before nodding agreement with Oona's suggestion, "Yes, we should get ourselves, the bamboo, and the news of what we've heard and felt here back to camp. I'm not sure what the others will make of the whispers or cold, but they should at least appreciate the bamboo up here. I'm glad we got some if it cut."
He held up one hand, promising, "I won't look," then added with a crooked smile, "Now. I can't say for certain what I might do another time."
Methos was true to his word, noting her movement towards her clothes by sound rather than sight. He focused on getting to his own clothes. Methos got back out of the lake cautiously. While he didn't expect to hear more of the whispers, at least not before they were closer to camp again, Methos was less certain whether something more was going to follow the bitter cold.
Having shared his age with Oona he allowed himself to swear softly in Sumerian as he struggled to get dressed quickly. Even though Methos did feel better once he was dressed again, it didn't give him the same comfort getting his sword once more hung over his shoulder did. The line of it's weight against his back made him feel grounded in a way he didn't when it was absent.
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Each carried their cut bamboo, and their clothing was drying in most places, but staying wet from perspiration in others.
It was a goof fourty minutes later, however, that Oona and Methos could smell the salt air and feel the breeze coming in from the ocean.
They stepped out onto the sand and Oone did a double take. "New faces. Seems to happen often if Sam, Guv, Miho and I are any indication."
(I think we can end it after Methos' reaction post. :)
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Methos kept his attention shifting as they hurried back to camp. He watched Oona ready to catch her if she should trip on their hasty retreat, checked the ground under his own feet not wanting to fall himself, and Methos watched the jungle for any sign of company. He knew they'd be faster going downhill, but if someone was coming downhill behind them it wasn't much of an advantaged. Methos kept his senses stretched wary of more company.
He had his sword at his back, and both a knife and bamboo length in his hands. Methos was ready to defend himself if anything came at them. His clothes were drying as best they could on the run in the damp air of the island. It was a small comfort given they were in full flight.
Methos allowed himself to relax a little when they could finally smell the salt air and feel the breeze from the ocean. While he remained wary of the cover the jungle still provided a possible attack, he knew they had gotten close enough to camp that others would likely hear something if they had to cry for help. Methos wanted sand under his feet.
"Looks like a number of new faces. I can't tell you much about them from here, but I don't sense another Immortal among them," he told Oona once he was standing on the sand next to her.
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