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]

[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.