VIDEO ✍ 001

[inseine]

[Javert was never very good at public addresses. He was not one to play politics. He was respectful to his superiors, but he was always in the habit of saying things as he saw them. He was never particularly good at holding his tongue.

Therefore, when he made his first video announcement over the DreamBerry network, it may come as a surprise to some to hear that he would not beat around the bush. An exceedingly calm, cold voice matched with an equally stern, deeply lined face pierces fiercely through the transmission, the gleam of authority in his eye.]

Now, how may of you out there had an acquaintance or friend spirit away?

The police service is but five pairs of eyes. Rather than idle about in your cafés and wait for them to spirit their way back, I suggest the public to submit missing persons reports in a quick and timely manner. We will track them and investigate their connection. This organizes society, a feature this country apparently lacks.

[There was a certain dryness and pomposity of tone that, to the observant, would have indicated agitation in the good Inspector. And it was for more reasons than a simple neglect to report a specific disappearance. He has experienced a rude shock upon an old acquaintance's reappearance, one that he knew would view this very transmission in time.

Let the old man see it, then.]

If you have need of these or any other services of the police, you will call or send here. An agent will be assigned to the case.

Comments

In French

[stole-bread.livejournal.com]

[Catching himself at the comment, the bewildered look on Fauchelevent's faded into an uneasy stare. Still, that did not answer the question. Had Javert's very soul been confined inside of the box? How long had he been there waiting for the man to see him.]

How are you materializing within this box?

En Français

[chose-death.livejournal.com]

[Javert snorted, his teeth still bared.]

The same as I view you in mine.

But if you want to think of me as your haunt, and you mine, [He makes a near-imperceptible gesture of his hand] by all means.

En Français, ZUT

[stole-bread.livejournal.com]

[Pales considerably, though his mouth sets into an uncaring line.]

My haunt? Have you nothing of more value to do in the afterlife than to follow me to the grave?

Continue en français

[chose-death.livejournal.com]

Good God!

[The man tightly crossed his arms over his chest, his large fists hidden beneath his sleeves. His lip pushed up toward that snub nose of his, his gaze somewhat... off-kilter. Distant.]

Indeed, Valjean! I have a pair of hand-cuffs here with your name writ on them. Carried them with me through my midnight swim. Would you care to see them?

[stole-bread.livejournal.com]

[As strange as the situation as become, the thought of a ghost pulling out handcuffs to arrest him seemed too far-fetched to believe. It's difficult to take Javert seriously when he's so small too.]

If you had thrown them to the side before you fell in, you might not have drowned at all.

[chose-death.livejournal.com]

Don't think me a fool. I did not rely on a scrap of metal to hold me down.

[He fishes into his deep greatcoat pocket and and unceremoniously drops the heavy shackles on the surface - it appears to be a desk - in front of him. Javert flashes a wry, deathly cross between a bitter grin and a grimace. His voice is a low, terse rumble, calm and cool despite the morbid subject matter.]

What are you doing here? Done in?

[stole-bread.livejournal.com]

[So the man had really expected to drown himself that night? But why? Javert could have so easily slapped the chains on him again and sent him away for life. It would have been too simple for Valjean to return to the Bagne of Toulon and endure the rest of his few years within those terrible bars.

After his determination at being dismissed, why would a member of the police so loyal to the law like Javert allow a convict to run free?]

No, not yet-... [-At least, he hoped not. He had seemed perfectly healthy the day before besides a slight cough.]

[chose-death.livejournal.com]

[Javert drew his chin into his collar with a perturbed, distant frown.

The immortal Jean le Cric lives, then. Was he another one of those individuals that simply 'fell asleep'? Could it even be possible? As it was, Javert could not find a single other man in that country who shared the same start as he. There was also the possibility that they were all keeping the truth from him, but he did not detect lies in the individuals he questioned.

And as dishonest as Jean Valjean had been throughout his entire damn criminal career, this was not the lie to lie about, so to speak.]

That is right. You are... [dryly] an expert on survival, as I have seen.

[stole-bread.livejournal.com]

[If the man laughed for anyone other than Cosette, you might get a low chuckle at that one, Javert.]

I thought you paid much closer attention to me, Javert. Following me didn't inform you well enough on how to survive?

[chose-death.livejournal.com]

[Javert did not respond immediately. In fact, it was not entirely clear that he heard the ex-convict. Valjean would recognize this strange habit from the last few hours he'd spent with the Inspector. His expression was drawn, soured. Was it so hard for the damned merciful fagot to understand that the Inspector did not desire survival?

All at once, Javert seemed to awaken, his gaze alert and ferocious and livid as it was during the hunt. The irreproachable officer had again returned.]

I will not hold your hand whilst you learn this device! I am busy. Speak to others here.

[And then he was gone, the screen a blank.

Perhaps, belatedly, Valjean may notice how Javert had long since dropped his maddening, distant use of vous with the ex-convict. His speech was slightly more respectful than he had ever used in life.]