milliways_bar | College AU Frenchmen!

...this isn't his bedroom. Jean Valjean - dressed in shorts and a muscle T, covered in sweat - rubs a towel over his face, and blinks quite a lot. Then he sticks his head back through the door, and yells, 'Javert!'

'What?'

'Come look.'

Javert - mussed hair, jeans, sullen expression, a scar around his neck - slopes through the door. He also blinks a lot, and doesn't stop the door closing behind them. While Valjean spends his time staring about, his eyes fall on the leaflets nearby. He picks one up, reads it, then touches Valjean's arm to get his attention.

'Here.'

A couple of minutes later, they're staring at each other. Javert shakes his head. Valjean nods, and stretches for the door handle...which won't open. His eyes go wide as he tugs on it, and Javert has to take his wrist to stop him trying to wrench his way out.

'It's OK. We'll just get a drink and wait for it to open. It says here that it will. OK?'

'...OK.'

And so there's two wary young guys at the bar, eyeing drinks suspiciously. Well, Valjean is. Javert is eyeing Valjean, because...well. Just because.

[OOC: AU guys, obviously! Write-up on their background here. You can pretty much do what you want with them, they're only here for a week. This is open until whenever, and they'll each get an independent EP at some point. \o/]

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'Why?'

It would seem the obvious question, and Javert's never afraid to be blunt.

"Because I wasn't done living," Eric says. "And because my Maker was the most powerful being I had ever encountered."

There may be a hint of emotion there. Of longing.

Edited 2015-07-19 16:39 (UTC)

'I thought vampires were technically dead.'

He doesn't see the appeal. But then, he's proved he's not one to hang on to life recently.

"Undead," Eric says. A little testily.

'What's the difference?'

"The dead are dead. I am not. "

'If you can't eat, your heart doesn't beat, and you can't go out in daylight, you might as well be. What's the point?'

It doesn't sound like living to him, of any sort. Valjean shoots him a warning look, but he ignores it.

"Oh, I can eat. Just not food," Eric says, smiling. "Most things work, and work better, and the nights are all mine. "

'It's not the same,' he says, stubbornly.

'You're not free to go where you want in the daytime, you can only eat - drink - one thing. That's shit.'

He's not sure why he's being belligerent about it. Maybe because the guy leant over Valjean. Maybe because Valjean doesn't like him. Maybe because he's too curious for his own good, and doesn't want it known. Whatever the reason, he looks pissed.

"I have never regretted my choice," Eric says, calmly. No hint of emotion on his face.

"You're not free either, are you? It's not like you can just do whatever you like, is it?"

Someone's reeking with pentup frustration. It's as good a guess as any.

His face curls into a snarl. Valjean shifts uncomfortably again, and looks away.

'No one can. No one human, anyway. We don't all just lose our responsibilities and do whatever we want.'

Pent-up frustration is one way of putting it, yes. Crawling out of his own skin is another.

"Precisely. No one human," Eric purrs.

'Which is why you're not worth talking to. Real people don't run away from stuff, and just...I don't know, live in indulgence, the way you seem to. Go away.'

Whatever else is going on with him, this is true enough. Javert's got no time for indulgence, or people who think it's a valid way to spend life.

" I can assure you that I have lots of obligations. As a small business owner. I might even pursue a seat in the Chamber of Commerce. "

Stonefaced.

He also isn't moving.

Javert stares at him for a moment. It only takes a moment to decide he's mocking - or maybe not, which would be worse - and turn away from him.

'Do what you want, and do it away from me.'

"You really ought to lay off the attitude, Buttercup," Eric says. Silkily.
"I'm a reasonable person but you never know whom you might piss off."

'Thanks for the advice.'

He won't be listening to it, because the rules say no violence. And Javert, in any universe, trusts in the rules.

Eric turns to face Valjean and says, "You ought to consider putting your little friend there on a leash."

Valjean tries to pretend he didn't just see the look on Javert's face. The flash of frustration, followed by an expression that probably means he'd allow it if it was suggested, at this stage.

Instead, he just looks at Eric - steadily, in the eye - and says, 'he's not mine to control. He's not a pet. He can say what he likes. And we were given to understand the rules of this place prohibit violence.'

"That's a shame," Eric replies, looking back at him. Just as steadily.
"You seem a tad more sensible. And it's true. The rules expressively forbids violence. And most of the time, people follow them."

The last sentence is stressed slightly.

Valjean does not back down. He usually does in life, but this isn't like life - this is like the prison yard again and he's not so long away from that that he's forgotten.

'Well, I guess we'll just have to hope you're a man of your word. You did say you behaved yourself here.'

"For the most part, yes."

Few people can look as stoic as vampires. It's partly the whole 'not breathing' thing.

It's almost cute how they're taking turns defending each other though.
Pam should have seen them.

'Leave him alone. You've got no argument with him.'

Yeah, defending each other is what they've come to do. So this'll be Javert, not allowing anyone to look at Valjean that way.

'Just take off, OK?'

Eric drains his bottle.
"I think I'll have another," he says, as he puts the bottle down. "A Negative this time, please."

It appears.

"If you object to my company, you're perfectly free to move," he says, curling his fingers around the bottle.

'We were here first.'

'Javert, c'mon. Let it go.'

Valjean gets to his feet, and throws his towel back around his shoulders. 'I need to go wash up anyway, so lets find a room and leave this guy to...whatever he's doing.'

Javert glares at Eric some more. But Valjean puts his hand on his arm, and he's never immune to that. A moment later, he lowers his eyes, nods, and walks towards the stairs. Valjean follows, only turning his head to say - almost pleasantly - 'have a nice evening.'

Almost pleasantly.

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onceaviking - 2015-07-20 18:49 (UTC) - Expand