Studying all that he could concerning the human sciences and social archetypes while in Europe, he became enamored with the peculiar social practice of procrastination. After spending the next few centuries getting involved in various human affairs, which he may or may not have instigated (i.e. the Crusades and the Hundred Years War), he returned to Avalon.
Quickly becoming bored with the relative tranquility of home, he decided that a change was in order, and began laying plans to form a slacker's guild, which he eventually intends to implement as the Ancient Order of the Two-Headed Turtle. As the membership went nowhere on Avalon, he ventured back out into the Mortal Lands to recruit members. This led him to the United States of America, a journey that took him 175 years to make, due to mistaken directions and a much needed pit stop in Upper Mongolia (dragging a ship to the ocean can be such a pain!).
Hanging out in the western and midwestern states for the next century or so teaching the local tribes the art of slackage, he decided to try his luck farther east, and walked right in on the Burning of Atlanta during the Civil War. He immediately turned northward, and found himself inhabiting a loft in New York's Staten Island area.
Since then, he spread the tenets of procrastination around the continent, making an occasional States-wide tour (but by that time another elf had already horned in on the act...), but he found no real reason to stop in Washington, D.C., since the president was already a master of procrastination.
After one such tour, Meethos found himself channel-surfing and wiped out when he hit the B'harnii and Fiends television show. So disgusted by what he was witnessing, something snapped. Grabbing his enchanted blade, the Sword of Inferior CraftsmanshipTM and his Dwarf-made pulse blaster, he set out for the nearest PBS broadcasting station. Little did he know that the station was already targeted by the Blood Jihad.
Being mistaken for a sponge, he was captured by the Blood Jihad and taken to be despongified. When it was realized that he was out to destroy the evil that he had so recently discovered, he was inducted into their ranks, and quickly rose to become a Senior Technician in the Blood Jihad's Skunk Works. Later, when the Blood Jihad departed for the distant future, Meethos stayed behind to join Williams/Dorshimer, Inc.'s R&D and Space Fleet, and later the Verthandic Rangers.
Whether or not Meethos still maintains contact with Avalon is not known, but it is likely that he does, as there are often numerous incidents of humorous mishaps involving pants and banana peels.
Meethos is a master slacker, but doesn't get hyped about it.
He is a skilled swordsman, and a decent shot with most rifles and handguns.
Among his many talents is a propensity for researching theories and developing new weapons and vehicles.
A competent hand-to-hand combatant, Meethos can give good accounting of himself, but prefers to use his sword or pulse rifle, or his innate mystical abilities.
Like all Avalonian Elves, Meethos is a shape-changer, capable of assuming any size or shape that he may desire. He does not often use this ability, as it tends to take more effort than a slacker is willing to put forth (until he finds himself in a butt-load of trouble).
Meethos posesses the knowledge and ability to cast minor spells, most of which are geared toward pranks and jocularity.
Meethos was granted a blade when he departed Avalon to aid him in his quests, as is custom among travelling Avalonians. The blade he was given is the ancient Sword of Inferior CraftsmanshipTM, purportedly the first Dwarvish blade ever forged. The blade is kept sharp by several longevity and hardness spells; otherwise, it would undoubtedly rust and break within a few seconds, and butter would cut through it like a Ginsu.
Along with his sword, Meethos carries a Dwarf-made pulse rifle (What? You think Avalonian Dwarves don't spy on us?). Firing 20 rounds per second, the mithril-cased rounds can punch through three-inch thick steel in seconds, and rip through purple padding like a flail through Jell-O.
"Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow. Unless you're in a butt-load of trouble."