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[never_shall_yield]

 Javert woke up at lunchtime, finally - thankfully - feeling like himself again. The first thing he did was to go and check on the horse; the second was to go back to digging trenches out in the forest, even though it hurts his arm.

He is trying very hard not to think about the things that happened while he was not himself. He is aware he has quite a large number of people to apologise to. And so, when it is too dark to continue working, he comes in and cleans up. And then he settles into his usual booth at the back, with a supper of bread and cheese, and a stack of paper with which to write apologies.

He could be here some time.

Comments

[street_sparrow]

Gavroche arrives at his booth with an actual purpose (beyond generally harassing Javert to take care of himself) this time.

"You know they're here, I suppose?"

[never_shall_yield]

He does not look up. He merely dips his pen in his inkwell, and applies it to paper.

'If you are referring to your parents - yes, I do.'

[street_sparrow]

"I suppose you have to call them that, there's no better word for it", he says darkly. "Good that you know, the more people here they'll never convince to trust them the better."

[never_shall_yield]

'Well, I could call them simply 'The Thenardiers', but as you yourself are a Thenardier, perhaps you would like that less.'

He appears calm on this matter. In truth, it has bothered him since he met them. Their appearance can mean nothing good.

'I have informed Security of what I know of them, minus details of individual cases. I do not suppose it will make any difference whatsoever.'

[street_sparrow]

"Security can't act until they're caught breaking the rules", he agrees. "But I mean to watch them like a hawk and get others to, as well. I've put a warning out to my friends."

[witchfinder_general]

Father Harman has not exactly been looking for Javert, as he was far too preoccupied with all the research and information the library offers. He is, however, aware of the man's existence and had kept a note to himself in the back of his mind, reminding him that he should talk to im if he sees him.

Is there a drawing of a church among the papers on this table? Father Harman turns to look and quickly decides that this, most likely, must be Javert.

"Good afternoon," he says, politely.

Javert will see a tall stranger, dressed in black in a manner that will suggest priestly garments while actually completely composed of ordinary clothes from the future.

[never_shall_yield]

Javert glances up distractedly, but his gaze does, of course, pause at the sight of the clothes.

'Good afternoon, monsieur,' he says, with a hint of caution.

[witchfinder_general]

He says 'monsieur'. This must be Inspector Javert, then.

"Forgive me for disturbing you," Father Harman says, "but is that the design for a church there among your papers? It's rather rude of me to look, of course, but I couldn't help noticing."

[never_shall_yield]

He glances right, to the drawing. It is a sketch, by his newly discovered standards, but clear enough.

'It is,' he says, still with caution.

'I will build it here.'

[witchfinder_general]

"Then you are who I am looking for," Father Harman says. "I have heard that somebody is building a church here. Quite obviously, the place needs one."

[ostro_goth]

The next tall man in black is one that Javert is much more familiar with, namely, Teja.

"Greetings, Javert," he says. "It is good to see you well again; well enough that you are downstairs again."

[never_shall_yield]

'Good evening, Teja,' he says, politely, only barely glancing up.

'I am well. I will be back at work in the morning.'

[ostro_goth]

"And I am, of course, not to pay you for the time you weren't working, or show any other tendency towards lenience," Teja says, trying not to sound slightly amused. He knows Javert's ways and oddnesses now, and can factor them in.

"So I'm not even trying to convince you that in the future, people get sick leave. However, I would speak with you of two other things."

[never_shall_yield]

'Of course,' he says, without inflection.

At last, the man is learning. Sick leave? What a waste of time and money.

'Two things? I can guess at one, and hope they are still in the cells. I assume you saw my note?'

[ostro_goth]

"Of course I did," Teja says, "and of course, they are. Molly booked them in for eight nights, for reasons of extreme annoyance. Which I can understand: - they kept arguing and whinging, driving anybody who had to be there to distraction."

Especially the priest, which had almost amused Teja -- but he will not mention that to Javert, because an argument would be sure to follow. Incarcerating a priest, doing so with pleasure, because of general resentments and an incident with a vampire, and then just letting the clergyman suffer from the insufferable Thénardiers is something Javert is sure to have an opinion about.

"As to your note, I have noted well that they will be after Jean Valjean, and that I should look out for him and make sure they will not harm him. Do you know if they are looking for him especially, or would they merely take advantage should they happen upon him?"

[lt_blade]

Sonya enters the bar with the same book she was reading last, when she spots who she hopes is Javert. The lack of anything alcoholic is so far a good sign.

She carefully makes her way over to his table, her posture one that she's not sure if she should stay or make a run for it. "Javert?"

[never_shall_yield]

'Yes.'

Oh, Good Lord. Possibly the person he is most ashamed to see.

He forces himself to look up, and clears his throat.

'Mademoiselle. You save me the trouble of writing.'



This is excruciating. He stands, his back straight.

'I must apologise most sincerely for my behaviour. It is no excuse to say I was ill. I was unforgivably rude, and dishonoured you entirely. I will not ask your forgiveness, as there can be none. Please, name whatever reparation you desire, and I will make it.'

He ends this with a deep, formal, bow.

XDDDD

[lt_blade]

Yes, this is Javert.

She's so relieved that she doesn't bother holding back a sigh of relief. "Thank god, you're back to normal." The fact that she's even grateful for him to be himself again says something, though she's not sure what. She just knows that Javert himself isn't the greatest of company under normal circumstances, yet at the moment she wouldn't have anyone else.

"Apology accepted." It takes another deep breath to compose herself. "Just give me the picture you..or whoever that was..drew. I'll destroy it and that will be that, I'm just glad that you're back to normal and I don't have to worry about staying on guard around you."

:D!

[never_shall_yield]

'The...picture?'

He blinks, and tilts his head to think. And then reddens in an instant.

'Ah. I am not sure what he did with it. What I did, that is.'

The last bit is muttered, shamefacedly. He remembers what he drew now. That man Wade was clearly no stranger to women.

'If you will wait, I will find it. It will be in my room. Please, order yourself a drink at my expense. I shall not be long.'

Unless he kills himself on the way up the stairs. He's considering it.

Re: :D!

[lt_blade]

His expression and mumbling is enough. Sonya's been around soldiers after all and has pretended to 'not see' their stashes of dirty magazines.

"Thanks..." She carefully takes a seat. She's well aware that not all men saw her first as a soldier-she's had to fend off a few of them-but just that there was something made suggestive of her was enough to really make her consider drinking to forget.

Or maybe just scrub herself with kerosene.

She orders herself a coca cola instead: sugar and caffeine. She's not sure she could trust herself around alcohol at the moment.

[the_cupbearer]

"It's good to see you're yourself again," says Ganymede, stopping by Javert's booth.

[never_shall_yield]

'Ganymede.'

He looks around the table for the letter he has written him. He cannot locate it, and then realises he has not written it yet.

'Well. You save me writing, perhaps.'

He looks up to him, then stands and bows.

'I offer my apologies, monsieur. I have, as you know, been unwell. If I caused offence as the Englishman, I am sorry.'

Though the reason he may have caused offence was likely less than any offence he has already caused, as himself, on the same subject.

[the_cupbearer]

"Javert," he replies, in the same tone.

"You have't caused any offence to me, my friend. It was an illness that's taken me as well," he says. "But if it eases your mind I accept your apology."

[never_shall_yield]

'Thank you.'

He looks embarrassed for a second, then lets it go. Because it is, frankly, more embarrassing to have been English than anything else.

Also, he is a little flustered at being openly referred to as 'my friend'.

'You have had it before? Who did you believe yourself to be?'

He also sits, and gestures that Ganymede may do the same, if he desires.

[the_cupbearer]

"Some Japanese musician, I believe, whose music I'm not altogether fond of. It was quite awkward." He shrugs, and sits down.

"You were rather believable with a bow, though. You're a good shot."