inseine | Ryslig IC Inbox

Hi there. Are you busy?

[ read: Javert are you like suuuper hung over right now? ]

I am always busy.

[not... precisely true. But when he is not busy he is drowning in a lot of heavy thought. He hasn't forgotten his hivemind 'talk' with Majima, though, and that's precisely where his mind goes now.]

Not too busy for a trip to the public house.

Edited 2019-12-26 23:38 (UTC)

Great. I don't like havin' things hanging over my head. How about The Green Deer?

My afternoon's open with everyone scurrying around for New Year's.

[Well... he's up. Sunset isn't too far off. He has a new coat and cloak (from a 'mysterious Secret Santa'), and all the things necessary to venture out into daylight as a vampire. He can make the brief trip work, and it shall be dark before long.]

That will do. Now, then? I must wrap myself in a fine cocoon first.

Edited 2019-12-27 00:11 (UTC)

Ah, sorry about that. How about after the sun goes down? These days, that's earlier and earlier.

[ Despite being a 'night' monster, Majima still hung around a lot of monsters who were up and about during the day. Early mornings could go fuck themselves, though. ]

That suits just as well. We are of the same mind in sating our mutual curiosities and having this done. I will take care of the bill, do not worry about the money. I owe you a remission for drinks some time ago.

Much obliged. I'll meet ya there.

[ So there he'd be, seated at a booth seat as evening settled over Bavan. There was some chatter about the place, a couple of patrons, enough that two monsters talking over drinks and the like wouldn't attract undue attention.

Majima raised his hand when he saw Javert. ]

Over here. Thanks for comin'.

[How Javert manages to go anywhere in public without commanding the attention of an entire room is a feat.

He enters with a tall, dark, and gloomy flourish, like the inadvertently perfect vampire he is. His entire outfit is designed to cast him entirely in shadow, from the brimmed hat and popped collar all the way down to the skirts of his coat skimming booted feet. He makes his imposing way over to Majima's table and slips elegantly into the seat across from him. He peels a few of the shadows away, starting with folding back his collar and removing his hat with a bow to his.... friend? Can he consider Majima Goro a friend?]

I don't break my appointments. Did you order something? I did not keep you waiting long, I trust.

Edited 2019-12-27 14:03 (UTC)

[ Probably as much as anyone could consider a knife goblin a friend, really. Majima bowed in turn, and slid the spare menu over so Javert could peruse it. ]

No on both counts. Thought it might be a good idea to wait in case you wanted anythin'. Although when the waitress is gonna swing around again, that's up to fate.

So. Wanna get right down to it?

Like I said, it wasn't at the hands of the local P-- police department. I'm from the 20th century; they save that kinda treatment for black sites, off the map.

[At that, there's some strange unreadable spark in Javert's eye. Prisoners aren't flogged? That's... huge, for Javert. He whose entire final letter for suggested reforms heavily hammered on about improving treatment of prisoners. He picks up the menu to give it a quick glance, only his eyes moving to skim the words.]

You are not punished with the lash in your prisons. That is well. [The corner of his thin mouth twitches.] --Not for your position, evidently, getting mixed up with a violent lot. [He sets the menu aside, again fixing to watch Majima. He is careful with what he says, intending to make few assumptions and listen well.]

Go on about your illicit flogging, and don't get excessive. I only ask for the short of it.

[ Wow, Javert. Majima could probably say a lot on the topic of illicit flogging, but he'd keep things short as requested. ]

Okay. I used to be part of a criminal organization. They gave me orders I didn't agree with, and I voiced that disagreement.

So they threw me in a torture pit for a year.

[ Javert had told him to keep in brief. That was pretty brief, wasn't it? The waitress picked just that time to swing back by, and the look on her face suggested that she was sort of regretting it as she skated right on by to wait for another opportune moment. ]

[Look, Javert has never been terribly tactful with his word choice. He doesn't always intend to sound completely terrible. But then comes Majima's revelation, where his face... twitches in a few choice places and then falls utterly, forcefully blank.

Perhaps he is thinking about condemning Majima. Perhaps he is mulling over a few callous words to spit. He hardly even notices when the waitress skates on by without stopping.

Considering what Majima has seen of Javert's way of thinking, he might be surprised by the hard, contemplative question that does come out of his mouth.]

What were the orders you refused?

[ This didn't surprise Majima at all, but only because it was the exact question he would have asked if the turn tabled. ]

They told me and my brother to kill some other guys. Then they told me not to, only they told me not to.

[ Emphasis important, apparently. ]

One guy takin' on eighteen. You do the math on that one.

[ Of course, because Javert had told him to keep things short but this was Yakuza, in which everything had like a billion twists and backstabbings, this explanation was probably like... woefully inadequate. Oops. At least Majima hadn't demanded that Javert face him in a knife fight before he'd dispense any answers, that was a bad habit of his. ]

[Javert looks utterly flummoxed, his lower lip curling like a mastiff's. It takes a minute for him to pick up on Majima's meaning, and when he does, he presses a hand to his temple and beckons the waitress back to them with a sharp flick of his wrist.]

Yes, a bottle of bordeaux or any other modest red of the house. No, nevermind the wine, give me one of these mixed things. An 'old-fashioned,' for my ancien self. That will do.

[He turns on Majima after this.]

So I am clear: You were sent as an assassin. The operation is called off, but word was issued to only yourself, with your unwitting brother bounced off to get himself thoroughly torn to pieces. [He stares at Majima.] Two pitted against eighteen are hardly better odds than one.

You're right. I figure it was a setup from the start.

[ One in which, somehow, Majima had been deemed the pawn less disposable. Or maybe it had been Saejima or his patriarch that had been judged a problem. ]

But there's no way to find out for sure now. And even if there was... what happened, happened. Can't roll back that fallout.

[ No matter how much he might want to. Majima looked up as the waitress came back with two glasses and began to pour. ]

So, did ya find out what ya wanted to know?

[ Was Javert

satisfied? 😉 ]

Edited 2019-12-28 00:53 (UTC)

I learned enough, [he says with his air of authority.] A fair enough trade, to take a peek at your sordid underworld of scoundrels.

[He nonchalantly pulls out that blood pack juice bag from his Secret Santa, uses his claw to clip off a corner and adds it to his drink.

Javert does not ask if Majima would return to that gangster life. That is not a curiosity he wishes to humor. He sips his blood cocktail and drums his claws on the table, his dull, lightless crimson eyes boring a hole directly through Majima's skull.]

Now, why did you want to tell this to an old cogne such as myself? You know me.

Edited 2019-12-28 01:43 (UTC)

[ It was exceedingly difficult, but this was a serious conversation, and so Majima did his absolute best to maintain his gravelly crime man voice and not smile even a little as Javert took out the blood pack. (Which had a tasteful illustration of a smiling blood drop giving a thumb's up on it.)

It was hard, but he did it. Trophy, please. ]

You got your principles, and I got mine. That don't change because we're all doing the monster mash.

[ He was still human, damn it. And even if Majima didn't care about himself, there were still things that he did care about. People, convictions.... things that living as a criminal was supposed to help him protect. ]

I trust ya understand my meaning.

[ It was fairness. More importantly, it was obligation. ]

Yes, of course. But you are wrong.

[Javert rolls the glass in his palm and bends over the table. He speaks with clarity, full of conviction. Every word he says is 100% true, Majima.]

I have long since broken my principles, unpardonably so. I am not your better. I have long since decided I am exactly where I belong, and I am precisely what I deserve to be. You tell me you are a gang member, that you were an assassin, that you scorned the law? Fine. I do not have the ground to stand on to cut you to size for it. I shall not do it.

[He makes an odd hissing sound through his teeth and lifts his chin out of his collar.]

You have been nothing but dependable and decent with me. That would be a bad business, to behave like an ingrate. It would be unjust.

Edited 2019-12-28 03:11 (UTC)

You're a weird guy, Monsieur Javert.

[ There was a strange sort of affection to the way Majima said those words. ]

But all right, I figure we've covered each other's sob stories. Now we can get to the juicy bits. As ya know, I was tryin' to get a hold of some of that bug mistletoe during that... party.

[ The waitress came by again, and this time asked if they wanted to order anything. So Majima asked for the beef and potato stew. Simple enough fare, right? They both glanced toward Javert. ]

[What even does Javert want besides his blood pack poured over an Old Fashioned? Eh. He does not recognize most of these foods on the menu, but he'll take a risk, he has the coin. He'll have one of the sandwiches since it's on bread and there's cheese involved, and there's nothing more French than bread and cheese. This one also comes with steak (which he specifies as COOKED AS CLOSE TO BLOODY RAW AS POSSIBLE), some sort of caramelized mixed vegetables, greens, and garlic aioli with garlic-rosemary fried potatoes.

If there is a meaningful look from the waitress he blatantly disregards it, and she heads off to drop the orders to the kitchen staff.]

Ah, yes, the party. A rollicking joy, that affair. [Good, Javert is glad to move away from sob stories of limited significance to the present. He cracks his mirthless lupine grin. He actually spent a significant portion of the party's sequestering himself in a closet and wearily snapping at haplessly loud thinkers over the hivemind. Jolly good time, indeed.] What has become of the peculiar mistletoe? They were willing to give you a sprig? That would not surprise me.

Not exactly. They kept insistin' it had to stay in the hive. [ Tunnels. Whatever. ] Long story, it involves Bug Jail.

[ Garlic? Was it okay for Javert to eat garlic? Probably it was, probably Majima was just overthinking it. After all, he was fine eating chocolate and onions, right? ]

Anyway. I ended up havin' the most luck trying to get the bugs under the mistletoe. It was mostly a grab bag, but I did get a secondhand gander at that contraption they use to make those disguises.

That and a lot of weird bug shit.

[Oh... Oh. Javert straightens at that, his chin emerging from his high collar.]

The machine, you know the means to build it? [he asks sharply.] Why didn't you say so sooner? Well! I would be remiss if I did not say I got something from them as well. Likely they thought they were being festive, the nitwits.

Edited 2019-12-29 03:52 (UTC)

No. I saw how to use it. Tim knows how to build it, although I can't say it ain't a little bit concernin'.

So what was it you got from 'em? I assume it was a little tastier than their deep fried batter recipe. Which still needs some work, if ya ask me.

[ And speaking of food, this was about the point at which the waitress came by with their plates, setting each dish in front of them before beaming and telling them to call her if they needed anything else. Yes, even the degenerate vampire with the bloody steak, when everyone knew that steak was to be eaten well done*.

*citation needed ]

[Oh, hey, it's actual food. It smells... Well, Javert's nose twitches like a bull mastiff's as he attempts to discern how he feels about his plate. For now, he does not touch it, instead shooting the waitress's retreating back a tilted-brow glance. Degenerate!

Once the waitress is completely out of earshot again, he bends over the table with a serious, thoughtful look to Majima.]

You got how to use it, your Tim knows how to build it. I saw what must go in for a disguise to pop out. Cooking up lifelike skins does not come without cost.

[Emphasis absolutely intentional.]

[ Completely deadpan. ]

It's people, isn't it. Or monsters.

[ Deadass this was why Majima didn't speak up sooner, because everything in Ryslig had some kind of damn cost and he suspected this was more damned than most. Look Javert, at least tell him no one was grinding up little kids. ]

[ His Tim. He had no idea if Javert meant that the way it sounded, but it had a nice ring to it. ]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, PasUnPolicier. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 246.01.094.30 * PasUnPolicier has joined 246.01.094.30 <PasUnPolicier> This mail centre belongs to Javert. <PasUnPolicier> Be accurate and brief. <PasUnPolicier> I suggest you not test my patience with practical jokes and clowning around. <PasUnPolicier>** I will return your notice shortly.

<kyouken> Sometime after Christmas

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cw: people ingredients