(no subject)

[never_shall_yield]

 
Javert is in his normal back corner of the bar. It was pouring rain when he finished in the forge for the day, so he came here instead of going out into the woods. He is surrounded by paper, and the odd ruler, and he is drawing something with precision on one sheet - only to finish it, shake his head and toss it away, before taking a new piece and starting again. 

This looks like it has been going on for some time, and may continue the rest of the day. And possibly night. A distraction before his hand falls off would perhaps be welcome.



[OOC: Open UNTIL THE END OF TIME. Or next Wednesday. Whichever comes first. <3

ETA: YOU FABULOUS PEOPLE. *flings love at* I must crash, but it's been a blast. Am around all day tomorrow to continue. <3]

Comments

[never_shall_yield]

'Perhaps. I have not seen much evidence of God here.'

It depresses him more than he can say. At least at home, there is belief everywhere. It manifests in different ways, but he will never be the odd one for that reason. Here, it seems there is nothing that does not make him different.

'And I will not tell people where it is. If they find it, that is their business.'

[cook_the_rude]

"They will find it, once you're started," Dr. Lecter says. "And probably talk about it. I hope you won't mind."

[never_shall_yield]

'I suppose it is inevitable. Someone did already find it.'

The place is too small. He will do it nonetheless.

'There is little I can do about it. If I minded so much, I could have done this drawing in my room. It is what it is, monsieur.'

[cook_the_rude]

"I am glad you did not," Dr. Lecter says.

[never_shall_yield]

His expression is ambivalent. People discovering he can draw, and what he intends to do here, means little to him. He will do it, and that is the end of it.

And so, he stands.

'It is late, monsieur. I believe I will retire. My sincere thanks for the temporary use of your books. They will be returned with no damage, I assure you.'

[cook_the_rude]

"I trust that they will," Dr. Lecter says. "I am looking forwards to seeing how this will turn out, and will gladly find you all the books you need."

[never_shall_yield]

'I thought we had determined that was not necessary.'

There is no rancour in his tone. He is too tired for it. Indeed, the happy product of all this work is that sleep is no longer difficult for him. He could put his head down and get eight solid hours on this table, if he had to.

But he does not have to. He has a bed upstairs, and has no qualms about using it.

'Good evening, monsieur.'

He gathers the books carefully, and is gone.

[cook_the_rude]

"Good night, Javert," Dr. Lecter says. "Sleep well."