(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]

'There is no need for apology,' he says, stiffly.

'Merely stop your womanish sighing. I am working.'

Herp, unfinished earlier posts are unfinished

[prettygoodcop]

Marge's eyes narrow very briefly before she settles into her default polite-yet-firm expression that constitutes the face of authority in a place like Brainerd.

"I understand that, sir. But if you want to do that sort of work in public, it'd be better for everybody involved if you'd take up a little less space doin' it."

She pauses for a moment.

"I can bring over a trash can if you like, and you can set your discards in there. Wouldn't be any trouble for me."

[never_shall_yield]

'I am within the bounds of this booth only. No one else is disturbed.'

He is disturbed. He looks at his page, frowning as he tries to hold on to where he was going with it. He does not look at her.

'And do not use that tone with me. I suppose you are from one of these future places that allow women to police, but do not suppose that allows you to patronise me.'

[prettygoodcop]

"If you'll pardon me for sayin' so, sir, it looks to me like not everything in that booth is staying in that booth," Marge says.

"And I'm only tryin' to help here. I'm sure there's plenty of folks in here who'd take a lot more offense to it than I have, who'd distract you a lot worse than I'm doin' right now."

[never_shall_yield]

'And yet,' he points out, through gritted teeth, 'you are still doing it.'

He cares nothing for the offence he causes in others. He would not have been a very good policeman if he did.

'I fail to see who, exactly, you are trying to help.'

[prettygoodcop]

Marge's expression remains the exact same. Her tone, however, acquires more of an edge to it.

"Anyone within a 10-foot radius of this booth, for a start," she says. "The staff who help keep this place clean. And lastly you, to give you a place to put your garbage without havin' to haul it somewhere else or leave it for someone else to pick up. How's that then?"

[never_shall_yield]

It is no good. He has lost the thread of his thought. He tosses his pencil down with a scowl, and attempt to find his cold cup of coffee under the assorted papers.

'You are the only person within ten feet of me,' he points out, without sparing her a glance.

'The cleaning staff are small orange men. And there is a fire not ten seconds from this spot, where I will dispose of everything I do not wish to keep, when I leave. Your argument is entirely moot. Cease.'

[prettygoodcop]

"I don't see how them being small or orange has anything to do with anything," Marge says. "But alright then. You seem to have everything figured out. I'll be out of your hair then."

She rises and heads off in the direction of the Bar. It wouldn't be proper or Minnesotan of her if she ended this conversation without making one more passive-aggressive gesture at this jerk. Roughly a minute later she returns with a small, empty trash bin, which she sets down beside Javert.

"You can empty this into the fire. Use it or don't."

With that, she turns and heads off toward another booth. One at the opposite corner of the bar.

[[OOC: And I think they've sufficiently annoyed each other for one thread.]]

[never_shall_yield]

He - having picked up his pencil again, and reapplied it to paper - rolls his gaze up to follow her progress across the bar. Only when he sees she has seated herself and will not return, does he manage to reengage with what he was doing.

He has no idea what makes women so irritating, but he does wish they would stop it.


[OOC: I think you're right. Thanks for tagging! I enjoyed it, even if he didn't. :D]