Ryslig IC Inbox

[inseine]

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.

Comments

[godofthemachine]

[AM awaits a response from Javert, but of course it doesn't come. No surprise. After all, the man has more important things to do. And AM... would rather be at the labs right now. Having finished his paperwork and having no one to punish, he has nothing useful to do. So why not pester Javert?

After about twenty minutes, AM appears in Javert's office. As a vampire, he's far less imposing than he was as a nephilim, and frankly AM prefers it that way. But it doesn't matter; it's still the same person. The same man he frequently fantasizes about torturing.]

Well, well... What have we here?

[AM doesn't even try to be polite to Javert. Why should he when his hatred is so obvious?

He certainly notices the polaroids of the murders, at least, as he casually floats over to Javert's desk, leaning in.]

[inseine]

[Javert flips the folder shut with a sharp, sudden flick of his wrist. He does not raise his head. Only his intent red eyes swivel up to AM, thick with displeasure.]

Work. Something you ought to be doing, [he emphasizes haltingly, as if he were addressing a creature with the brain-equivalent of a tot.] Come for more?

[godofthemachine]

[Indeed, the vampire is preferable. Those red eyes do nothing to frighten AM as he comes right up to the desk.]

In case you didn't notice, Javert, I am always quite diligent with my work.

[With the folder of photos closed, AM can't make out any more of the details, so he reaches his rotting hand down to open it back up, fully expecting Javert to stop him.]

What's this? Surely it has nothing to do with how Amanda and Aunamee imprisoned us, does it?

[inseine]

[Javert snatches up AM by the wrist and shoves him away.]

No. You're not an investigator, you are a punitive director. It isn't your concern.

[He laces his hands atop the closed folder and regards AM full in the face, icy and calm.]

Well! There are a score of paper stacks in the cabinet and a man thrown into cell block five. Surely you do not require me to hold your hand through these tasks.

[godofthemachine]

[The funny thing is, AM is positive he could run circles around Javert's investigative skill if he wanted, but he has no need. Let him play the chase game if he wants. But nonetheless, Javert easily shoves AM's wrist away.

He's half tempted to just sit on the desk like some seductress and mess up Javert's organized work, but that would be a bit too obvious.]

No, Javert. I don't require anything from you except...

[He places his hands on the table, leaning in closer, as close as Javert will let him. (Thankfully, AM's phylactery is not on his possession at this moment.)]

...To tell me again why we're not pursuing Aunamee and Amanda.

[He had seen Javert's close relationship with Aunamee when he examined his mind in the dreams, though the details were limited. It was more that he saw almost a soft spot.]

[inseine]

I have refreshed that thick skull of yours a thousand times, [Javert says dismissively. He does not shrink away when AM moves into his personal space. Let him posture; he will take it in stride, impassive and cold.] There is no physical evidence to condemn them. It is a simple matter. I shall not break principle for them nor anyone else.

[godofthemachine]

[Exactly what he wanted to hear. If he could grin in his lich form, he would, but otherwise there is a distinct squint of his eyes as he backs off from the table.]

Good. I'm glad to hear it, Inspector.

[It's entirely possible Javert doesn't even remember the affair. Dreams are a strange thing, after all. But AM certainly does, and he will treasure it.]

[inseine]

[Javert allows the pregnant silence to hover between them, still and unmoving. He neither quavers in his impassivity, but nor does he relax.]

The answer you want is No.

[godofthemachine]

[He doesn't move, letting Javert process the information. His unseen smile is still very much there, remembering all of the absolutely delicious torture he inflicted.]

I'm not sure what you mean. No to what?

[Say it. He wants to hear the details of that delicious suffering. He wants to know that he had all of that power over Javert and there is nothing he can do about it.]

[inseine]

No, you did not commit a crime. I have no intention of punishing you.

[Javert's brow arches high. He does not care for AM's gloating, but it is not enough for him to budge from his scruples.]

Is that all?

[godofthemachine]

[AM knows. He knows that Javert knows. And Javert probably knows that AM knows - and on and on - that Javert knows that AM wants Javert to react, therefore he's putting on the same sour demeanor he always puts on.

It's disappointing in a way, but hardly surprising. It's Javert, after all. But AM will have those memories to savor, those memories of him in utter misery, begging for death.

So the best thing AM can do is either goad him for more, or accept it without making a scene himself. In fact, he looks even more pleased if possible, eyes squinting more with that invisible grin.]

Good.

[It's not relief in his voice, but delight. A purr of recognition, of the superiority that he thinks he holds over the inspector.]

That is all, Inspector.