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VIDEO ✍ 008 --> Lari's Return from Hiatus
[The video opens to a blank white with a dim shadow at the left corners. It is a moving shadow. There is a faint, muffled rustling sound, and a black, fluid shape - a bedsheet - flutters. Now the indecipherable, severe mutterings of a man's voice can be heard.
The video feed jerks sharply. A bare, hairy foot kicks at the screen, gnarled toes grasping. There is an odd scraping, clanging sound in the background.]
Wretched bitch will pay for this, I swear it!
[The speaker, whose face and body is not visible beyond that reaching foot, does not seem to be aware of any voyeurs this morning.]
The video feed jerks sharply. A bare, hairy foot kicks at the screen, gnarled toes grasping. There is an odd scraping, clanging sound in the background.]
Wretched bitch will pay for this, I swear it!
[The speaker, whose face and body is not visible beyond that reaching foot, does not seem to be aware of any voyeurs this morning.]
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--The exception being the drop of that smug smile from her face. That is enough to elicit a wry, bemused twitch at the corner of his mouth. This predicament is getting to be quite ridiculous, isn't it?]
What is that expression? [he asks in a low voice.] Are you joking with me? In that drawer! You said you have got it with you.
[He arches a brow, eyes drifting thoughtfully toward the ceiling, as cool and resplendently composed as always. At least he does not quite seem to be angry now that his wife has finally made her entrance.]
Though I suppose I shall settle for a saw. If the key is really lost.
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You just love to ruin my fun, don't you? How boring. [And voilà, the lovely doctor pulls the supposedly missing key out of her lab coat pocket.
It's only a quick click later that Javert's poor arm is finally free.]
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Yes, I am a very dull fellow, indeed.
[The impassivity and intensity drops instantaneously, a smirk pulling his lips taut. Javert releases her and shakes out his hand and wrist, rubbing the smarting flesh tenderly. He bends closer to her, his voice lowering conspiratorially,]
I believe I will have a cramp in this arm for the rest of the day. Now, I saw it is very clean in here. I hope you have not hidden all of my clothing from me. I would prefer to go to work dressed, rather.
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-But before Naomi can give him back one of those witty retorts he was probably missing after so long, she pauses. Oh, there's the other part she'd nearly forgotten about...]
Well, I had no idea you'd wake up today, dear, you can't blame me for that. [Though this whole situation clearly puts a winning point on the doctor's side, Naomi isn't quite so sure how Javert will react to this new information.] I rarely get a chance to professionally clean your things, you're so attached to them. Your hat and coat alone get so filthy being worn everyday without pause, so you can't expect me to not grab that kind of an opportunity when it so infrequently rises.
Everything will be ready tomorrow morning, but for now... [Well, there has to be something in the closet.]
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All empty. Save for one.
At the last drawer he freezes, neck bent over to scour its innards.
Javert raises his eyes back to Naomi, brow arched with meaning.]
You are a vile woman, [he remarks casually with a rueful grin.] You must have the last laugh, eh? Fine, then! I will not have it bother me.
[He grabs the last remaining articles of clothing from his armoire and disappears into the bathroom for a quick wash.]
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Javert has washed up and dressed himself in the last remaining set of clothes in his armoire. They remained, of course, because he never wears them. Or he hasn't since a zoo trip (http://somarium.livejournal.com/613693.html?thread=43100221) with his "family" over one calendar year ago. Yes, indeed, Javert forbidding demeanor is tempered only mildly by a bright splash of pinks, oranges and blues in a Hawaiian-print top and a pair of muted khaki cargo shorts. His sunglasses are cradled gingerly in his breast pocket.
He folds his hairy arms across his broad chest.]
... It will do. For today.
It seems that I am missing only the camera-cord around my neck.
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Oh dear. The slender woman had almost completely forgotten about this particular outfit she'd gifted to her husband so very long ago. Well, then again, it isn't as if she's ever seen it in this lifetime. It was actually from a false set of memories from over a year ago. Two lifetimes ago, to be exact.
Which is precisely why that Naomi, who is lounging quite comfortably on their shared bed with a pillow tucked behind her back, immediately begins to cackle the moment he steps into view. Isn't your dear wife so charming and sweet?]
Don't you look handsome today. [And another round of giggles as she sits up to smile at him.] I think with that on you'll be striking even more fear than usual into the hearts of those nasty criminals.
They won't even have a clue what they're dealing with.
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[Javert casts Naomi a sidelong glance.]
Then I shall give them a reason not to.
[Actually, that almost sounds like it could be a grand time, indeed. If he is very fortunate, than those street rascals will not recognize him at all until after he has ensured their arrest. It suits Javert's taste for dramatic captures very well. There is an indecipherable twitch at the corner of his mouth.]
My boots. Did you snatch them as well?
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Her dark, mischievous gaze gives his body another sweep up and down.]
No, but I don't see how you can expect to wear those wonderful boots I gave you with an outfit like that. The shirt is one thing, dear, but you don't want to give everyone you work with the impression that you're senile already.
[Not that Edgeworth's bright feminine colors really looked any better...]
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Of course, most of the shoes belong to Naomi - various pumps, the cold-weather boots he had gifted her, and other shoes of varying professionality and fanciness. His own shoes were confined to a single pair of boots, still well-shined with the care he gives them on a daily basis, a single pair of men's loafers and some fuzzy slippers that have never been worn. Javert selects the gently-worn men's loafers and slips them on.]
Where are my eye-glasses? Now that I am a veritable tourist.
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With her usual feminine grace, Naomi Hunter slips from their shared bed onto her tiny feet, picking up the very familiar pair of aviator shades on the bedside table. From there it only takes a few quick steps to completely close the distance between the couple in their small room.
Smiling even more coyly than before, she stretches upwards against him, sliping the metal frames into place carefully behind his ears and onto the bridge of his nose, delicate hands lingering on his hairy (but always so tidy!) cheeks. And with that, she gives him a brief kiss to the lips.]
Perfect.
[Naomi can be sweet on occasion.]
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[Still, Javert gives the woman an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder, his expression hidden behind those dark shades. He scoops his Dreamberry from the floor and heads for the exit, pausing in the door frame to look back to Naomi.]
By the way, I shall expect my proper clothes back in my wardrobe by tomorrow morning. Then I may choose to... [A wryly amused twitch at the corner of his mouth.] overlook this joke of yours. [And give her a score-tally in this good-natured war of theirs.]
Do not be very bored today. Take care.
[Javert reaches up to tip his hat--Oh. Right. He isn't wearing it. He frowns at his absent-minded motion, snaps his arm back to his side and heads out.]
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Besides, Naomi's been dying to wash the sheets on their bed for over a week now. With her husband finally awake again and on his feet, she could fix that.]