so-- what brings you up here to the aerie of the lesser gods?
i'm out of the help business. no future in it.
in our world, does it really matter?
did i ever tell you i once kept a vineyard on the very spot where they built this monstrosity? glorious, the wine. when did you see him last?
what did you talk about?
think back. flash to: int - pub - day connor and duncan hunch over the bar, pounding scotch.
describe the look.
describe it.
for an immortal who comes to abhor bloodshed, there's a solution-- a way to be removed from the game forever. the price is unimaginably high, but you are, for all practical purposes, protected from the violence within yourself. it's called the sanctuary.
think of those buddhist monks who came to cherish life so much that to step on a single insect, to harm a blade of grass was a violation of their creed. they placed themselves into an extreme form of protective custody. a sanctuary of sorts. what i'm talking about is something similar. but one that doesn't allow for a change of heart. he opens his fingers and watches his cup plummet to the plaza below. wine splatters like blood on white marble. methos apparently it was wiped out last night.
i don't know.
he left no witnesses.