(no subject)

[never_shall_yield]

Javert, as usual, spent most of the day out with the horse. There was a long ride out in the middle of the day, and the afternoon spent cleaning her stall, and tack, and whatever else he could find of hers that needed tending to.

And now there is an evening stretched before him. Without any enthusiasm at all, he asks to be provided with a book. The Bar produces one on Napoleon.

'Must I?'

He had had quite enough of that man when he was young. But it does not disappear, so he takes it with a sigh, and retreats to his normal far corner. 




[OOC: Open 'til the weekend. Catch him outside or in, either works. :)

ETA: BOOM. After 2am = time to crash. Thanks, guys. Catch ya tomorrow. <333]

Comments

[herr_bookman]

Here, Javert. Have a small plate of strawberries laid on your table by a child walking away, nose currently stuck fast in his own novella.

[never_shall_yield]

'Excuse me?'

He says it to the plate, then swivels and repeats it to the back of the boy.

'Monsieur?'

[herr_bookman]

Autor glances over his shoulder, and then turns partway to meet him, book still held aloft and open. "Yes?"

[never_shall_yield]

He indicates the plate.

'Strawberries?'

It is the flying boy. His face sets into something stern.

[herr_bookman]

"Do you not enjoy them, monsieur?" Autor asks, wondering if the steel-jawed Frenchman has ever enjoyed anything in his life.

[never_shall_yield]

Certain things. Not many.

'I am asking why you have put them in front of me.'

[herr_bookman]

"Strawberries are a fantastic distraction."

[never_shall_yield]

'From?'

This creature is no less strange on this meeting. He frowns, and tries to will him to make sense.

[herr_bookman]

"Oh, many things," the demon child says, shutting his book. "Why do you think I gave them to you?"

[never_shall_yield]

'I do not know. I do not have enough information. That is why I asked.'

Is this not obvious?

'Perhaps you do not like them. Perhaps they are poisoned. Perhaps you are attempting to be friendly. I cannot say, and do not have the will to speculate. Speak plain, sir; I have no patience for games.'

[herr_bookman]

The demon child smiles, gently, and answers everything sotto voce. "You looked lost."

No word on any attempts to be friendly.

[never_shall_yield]

Javert blinks at him.



'I beg your pardon?'

[herr_bookman]

Autor flicks a glance at the strawberries, debating whether or not to pluck one up for himself. He does approach the booth, but only by a step or two, so that he may speak quietly.

"When I was first trapped here, I was a starving, excitable stray," he says softly. "I may as well have been a mad dog for all that I snapped at people--and really, I thought I was mad for sure."

The boy tilts his head, considering the man. "You look the way I felt. Strawberries can be a distraction from that. If you want them to be."

Autor raises his book in a salute, and turns away again.

[never_shall_yield]

'Boy.'

His face hardened as he spoke, and it is set now into something almost, but not quite, anger.

'Take your strawberries, and your sympathy with them. I have no need of either.'

For one thing, the fruit is a luxury he will not allow himself. For another, he has no idea what to do with kindness, especially of the unwarranted kind.

[herr_bookman]

Autor tilts his head. "All right," he says, and deftly lifts the plate from the table. "It was wrong of me to try to force them on you."

He waits, to see if the Frenchman has anything more to say.

[never_shall_yield]

'What is your name?'

Even demons have names.

[herr_bookman]

"Autor," he says, amused that he asked. "And yours?"

[never_shall_yield]

'I am Javert.'

He eyes the boy warily, as if expecting him to sprout horns.

'You are only a child. You should not bother adults with unasked-for fruit. It is rude.'

[herr_bookman]

Javert. And a Bastille Day party, to celebrate the newcomers. You bastard!

Autor adjusts his glasses. "All right," he says again, somewhat wary himself. "I apologize."

[never_shall_yield]

Well. He was not expecting that.

After a pause, there is a nod of his head.

'On your way, then.'

He is not sure what to make of this creature. It seems safest to dismiss him, though he has no idea whether he will leave so easily.

[herr_bookman]

"You are an honorable man, Javert," the demon child states, nodding back. He pops a strawberry in his mouth. "Which is good to know."

Then he turns and does indeed leave, head filled with thoughts of barbeques, French barricades, and his own hypocrisy.

[OOC: Yours to wrap/counter, if you like! Thank you so much for the thread! :)]

[never_shall_yield]

He frowns at the retreating back. He has no idea what this child is, and it is unnerving.

But he goes away when told, and that is something.



[OOC: Thank you. And, anytime. :)]