milliways_bar | (no subject)

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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'And that is quite correct. Admirable, even.'

It is quite similar to his own view of life, though couched in different terms. And possibly more honourable.

'These things you say - they mean nothing to me, and I will not seek them here. If others have difficulty understanding that, it is not my difficulty, nor my duty to explain it.'

"If you think you must be made to learn love, then those things would be inevitable; but I would maintain it is your good right to discard all of these," Teja says.

Pause.

"I did, however, refrain from personal love because I love my people -- did, and still do! -- that is, a feeling of connection to those around me, and the companionship of my friends. I care: - their suffering pained me, their life and happiness is my ultimate reward, and no matter what I have allowed myself to have here, it is when I see their children and their home-steads in the north-lands that I know my entire life was worth it, all pain justified, all renunciation rewarded!"

Javert just looks at him.

He has no idea how to respond to that. It is not that he is against the notion of someone's happiness being pleasant, it is simply that if he has ever felt such a thing, it was so long ago as to be lost to memory. The only thing that comes close is his release of Valjean, and that was not for the purposes of happiness. It was justice.

'Well,' he says, at last. 'I have always abhorred connection of any kind. It is not appropriate for one of my standing, and I do not enjoy the notion.'

"None even to your fellow policemen, that stood for the same cause and would give their lives next to yours, should the criminals you fought use violence?" Teja says. "Keeping the peace is not always a peaceful business, and shared dangers connect. At least that is what I have ever seen."

'No, not even that. We came and did our job, and were amiable enough, I suppose. They took my orders; I took the the orders of those above. That is all.'

The police of his time were different to modern incarnations. They did not have partners; if assistance was needed while on patrol, there were posts to summon aid, or they could requisition soldiers from the garrison.

'If there were dangers, it was the job. We chose them, we accepted them.'

"Naturally," Teja says. "But you would not even share a drink, after the dangers were past, or tales around the watch-house, or some coffee in the morning?"

'No.'

He has never seen the appeal of comradeship.

'The telling of tales is a waste of time. Once an arrest is made, one must move to the next. Passing stories around affects the details, and creates a new version of something that happened. Better to refrain entirely, and keep the memory pure, in case of the need to present evidence at a trial.'

A small smile then, dry and self-deprecating.

'There is also the fact that I do not much enjoy company, and company does not much enjoy me.'

Possibly more relevant than the first.

Long pause.

"That latter," Teja says, "if it was ever true, seems to have changed now."

'No.'

No.

"Company, it seems, does enjoy you," Teja clarifies.

'Ah. Well. I cannot account for company's taste.'

Indeed, it is very strange.

'I suspect that it is nothing to do with whether I am likeable, and more out of some misguided instinct towards charity. This is equally abhorrent, of course, but no one will listen when I tell them to go away.'

"You may not like yourself," Teja says, "but some here do like you, for whatever reason that may or may not have to do with charity, challenge, or curiosity."

He is stopped short at that. Again.

'Why would you say I do not like myself? That is preposterous. I do not believe it is possible for a man to feel this about himself.'

"You declare yourself unlikeable," Teja says, "and would have only your own perspective to go by."

'I do not declare myself anything. I am indifferent to this.'

He finds the man's logic hard to fault, however. But he does not think of himself in these terms, and has no plan to begin now.

'One can measure oneself against a social standard. I would not waste my time. People find me as they will, and may continue to do so.'

"Including those that like you," Teja points out. "For whatever reason you may or may not find relevant yourself."

'If you would have it so.'

Really, he is not in the least interested in whether he is liked or not.

'In the meantime, I would like to return to this paperwork, if you have no objection. It will never be done, else.'

"Indeed, I shall leave you to it, then," Teja says. "I would praise your dedication to your work, but I am sure you would have a perfectly good reason to deflect that praise. Have a good day, Javert!"

He gives a brief nod, and then leaves, allowing himself an eye-roll, a sigh, and an actual smile only when well out of sight.-