milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Javert does not know how lucky he was to have avoided both the zombie invasion, and Halloween. So he does not feel any particular gratitude at coming up from the office, and finding the place entirely normal. He just deposits a large box on his corner table, sets a pad of paper next to it, a fountain pen on top, and an inkstand to the side.

That done, a rat brings bread and water, and a napkin that directs him to a package left for him at the bar. He does not notice this at first, because he is preoccupied. He sits, picks a random sheet of paper out of the box, stretches his fingers out and begins to transcribe it to proper paper. In proper handwriting. With proper headings, and a uniformity of style. Because someone knows how to keep account of things, unlike anyone else in the security office.

He came up because it was time to eat, but apparently there is no time to stop for repast. If anyone cares to dispute that, they may go and see the state of the office for themselves.

[OOC: Open until the weekend.
ETA: but for tonight, I must beg slowtime for sleep. Am around to continue all tomorrow. Night, all, and thanks to those who tagged. <333]

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There's a man of about forty at a nearby table, dressed in a style Javert may find at least somewhat familiar (despite Helena's threats to 'modernise' his wardrobe, David's sticking to what he knows for now, thank you very much), watching his work with some interest. He's also got a hamburger - apparently they've become quite popular - and a book (one of Helena's).
But that fellow's tableau looks downright familiar, down to eating while doing the paperwork. It couldn't help but catch David's eye.

Javert appears not to notice.

Until the point where he says, without looking up, 'is there something interesting, monsieur?'

"My apologies. I hadn't quite expected to encounter such a familiar sight here."
Though he really ought to have done, now that he thinks of it. Helena and Joshua had paperwork to hand the day he arrived.

'You speak of my work.'

At this, he glances up.

'Are you similarly afflicted?'

"I have been, before. In two separate jobs."
David smiles, more than a bit wryly. "But I don't imagine it'll be a continuing problem."
Perhaps if Joshua really needs help deciphering something, David would agree to it. And he is considering writing something of a primer for Claudia, since the poor girl's been tossed headlong into things with very little information to go on. But those are choices, now, not necessities.

Edited 2013-11-06 21:18 (UTC)

'Oh?'

He pauses, while he considers what that means. The man does not look old enough for retirement, and if he were rich enough to not need work, he would not have held even one job.

And then, there is the peculiarity of this bar.

'Are you dead?'

David nods. "Pirates, of all things."
(If he'd lived, the question of retirement may have been moot anyway. His second job was more of a calling, really; why give it up if you still love it?)

'Pirates.'

Really.

'You are English?'

"Yes, pirates. At Niagara Falls, if you can believe it. I would have expected the Atlantic to present the bigger problem."
His scowl has nothing to do with Javert's question and everything to do with the bloody pirates.
"I am, yes. London by way of Birmingham. --Do forgive me, where are my manners? David Wolcott."

'That is...singular.'

He has heard the name of Niagara Falls, and believes them to be somewhere on the North American continent. And that is all he knows of them.

'I am Javert.'

An inclination of his head, which is polite enough.

'Were you associating with these pirates?'

David would have offered a handshake, if they were closer.
"Certainly not. They attacked us."

'Ah.'

That is good. He resumes writing.

'Why? What was on your boat that was worth the effort?'

"I worked for an organisation that collects... valuable objects." It's near enough to the truth, even though one may be hard pressed to see where some of them have value.
"We were in the process of moving when we were waylaid. I was attempting to make sure they didn't get their hands on anything."
Well, on one thing in particular, but he's not going to explain Helena's predicament to just anyone.

'I see.'

He puts his pen down, and picks up his glass of water.

'An honourable death, then. I would say I hope the miscreants were overcome in the end, but I suppose you would not know.'

He does not say well done with regard the honourable death, but it is clear enough in his tone, if a little dry.

David sighs. "I suspect they did get away with some cargo, but not the truly important bits. Nothing the organisation won't be able to track down again."

'The fact they got away at all is not an ideal situation.'

He is curious as to how the man knows what he does. But then, he did not say it was a quick death.

'And now you find yourself here. What do you make of it, monsieur?'

"It was only our job to engage with the pirates for as long as they posed a direct threat. Seeing to our cargo was paramount. Of course they pressed on once they got clear."
That would go without saying even if he hadn't talked to the Warehouse's current staff.
At the latter question, David smiles. "It's quite fascinating. And I've had a chance to catch up with someone I'd missed dearly."

'Ah.'

A friend. Well, people do have them.

'What is your year?'

Yes, Javert. Most people find them good things to have.
"1914. And yours?"

'1832.'

Javert cannot see the use of them, but there it is.

'Aside from the people of my own country that are here, I believe you may be the closest in year that I have met. Most others seem to be from far in the future.'

He sounds annoyed by this, perhaps because they are so greatly frustrating.

"So I've gathered." Even Helena has the advantage of him now, in that regard.
But then, she likely would have found it one way or another.
"Bit odd, that the bar would draw so many people from one time."

'I suppose so,' he says, in the tone of a man who has not given it any consideration.

'These from the future are little different to any I met in life. More arrogant, perhaps. More wealth. But fundamentally the same.'

It is both reassuring, and not.

David shrugs. "I suspect humanity changes little at its core. There will always be great things and terrible things, and those who do them."
Or make them, depending on one's perspective.

'And for the majority, no things at all.'

He states this as a fact, not as a judgement, or a disappointment.

"I would disagree. Everyone does something in their lives. Many people do profound things that garner no attention from the rest of the world simply because of their station, or where they live, or their sex, or some other consideration."
After all, one doesn't need to be famous to create an Artifact.