VIDEO ✍ 008 --> Lari's Return from Hiatus

[inseine]

[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.]

Comments

[assworthsaving]

[Oh, hey, Jav's up! He feels a bit anxious considering both Javert and Elena went into a coma around the same time. Perhaps that meant she would be waking up soon...

In any case, the treasure hunter decides to greet the old guy with a chipper voice, just to tease, despite his cursing.]

Well, look who's finally awake. Morning, sunshine.

[chose-death.livejournal.com]

Ah! This man I recognize, [Javert barks crisply. At least this time, it is a man that has already witnessed the good Inspector in a rather degraded and humiliating condition.

Small comforts, in his predicament. Javert would prefer that he maintain his irreproachable and unimpeachable character to each and every member of the public he meets. The Inspector's foot dangles slightly to the left, and the bed wriggles. His voice sounds slightly strained, as if he were reaching for something.]

What the Devil do you mean, Drake? [he asks coldly, a note of melancholy in his tone. There is a mysterious clang of metal in the background.] Flattered as I am that you noticed my tardiness, it may shock you that I do in fact require roughly three hours' worth of rest each night. An hour or two extra here and there, though unforgivable for my profession, is hardly a shocking consequence.

[A beat. His voice grows frigid and hard as a realization occurs to him.]

--Unless you mean to say my absence was an extended one.

[assworthsaving]

[Confused at first, he simply makes a face expressing that when he suddenly realizes, before Javert even, that the man wouldn't have had anyway of knowing how long he had been asleep for.

So it really was like an extended sleep. Good.]

Does almost two weeks count as extended? I was beginning to think you stumbled across some mysterious keg of liquor. Good thing you weren't out for twenty years, right?

[chose-death.livejournal.com]

Two weeks! [he cries, aghast.] I don't miss two weeks! [Not while he has been in Somarium, in any case. Prior to entering, however, he had been dead for a good one-hundred-eighty years.] Damn that waif of a girl! I must get out of here.

Drake, [he snaps abruptly.] Do you know a dark-haired, dark-skinned woman? She is a medical doctor. Very social.

[assworthsaving]

Huh. I know plenty of women that fit that description, but a medical doctor? [He shakes his head.] Only doctor I know of is your wife, Naomi.

[Your lovely wife at that. Come to think of it wasn't Javert cursing at someone? And didn't he hear what sounded like metal on metal? He furrowed his brow; something seemed off.]

You, uh... okay there, chief? Who were you cursing at anyway?

[chose-death.livejournal.com]

[If only you could see Javert's face, Drake. His look would be so matter-of-fact and blasé that he would have no question that his wife was the exact person he was damning.]

You have met her, then. That does not surprise me. She has an annoying talent of plucking becoming young men from a crowd. She finds her way about the town!

[His monologue complete, there is another rattle and the creak of a shifting mattress. A bare hand and arm dangles off the side of the bed and into view of the video feed.]

You owe me less than nothing, [Javert admits with authority,] but when you chance upon her, you might send her a message: her husband is not responsible for the broken furniture.

[assworthsaving]

[Drake raises an eyebrow at that. Naomi seemed like a sweet person, at least he always thought so. She didn't appear to have a mean bone in her body though Javert was making her sound, well, promiscuous. To put it lightly.]

'Becoming young men'? Well, ah... thanks for the weird compliment, but are we still talking about Naomi, your wife? She seems like a good girl.

[And she always had been toward him. In fact she responded so well when he needed her help with Elena, even comforted him. Naomi could have just as easily told him to suck it up and tease him about his concern toward his comatose roommate, but she listened and didn't judge.]

Uh. Shouldn't she be home? [They were married and lived together, right?] And if not now, shortly? [Surely Javert would see her first.] Sounds like you're having troubles in paradise.

[chose-death.livejournal.com]

Yes, that woman certainly gives that impression, doesn't she?

[Think what you want to think, Drake, but know one thing: Inspector Javert and his wife do not have what one would call a typical relationship. In fact, these two are anything but an average couple. One glance at the contrast between Inspector's severe, fierce, cold mien and his wife's sociable, beautiful, and warm face is enough to get a man wondering just how much Javert might have paid for that arm ornament at his side.

There is an ominous clanging and a thump while Javert struggles with figuring out the most efficient way to break the bed bannister and free himself from this humiliating imprisonment.]

Perhaps, Drake, you have forgotten that most career men and woman must go to work during the daylight hours. To make a living, you understand.

[Javert adds flippantly and knowingly,]

What is it you do again?

--In any case, I must assume she is at the laboratories.

[assworthsaving]

[Quite frankly until she comes at him with a knife or gun Drake was going to continue thinking of her as an angel. Hell, even then he'd probably still think of her as one. He would just admire from afar at that point.

And curiosity would be an understatement when it came to him wondering how Javert landed such a beauty like Naomi, but he assumed he simply wasn't seeing the whole picture. He didn't really dwell on it that much, only when faced with the reminder that she was, indeed, married.

And upon hearing Javert's rhetorical question Drake flashed a contemptuous look briefly before dismissing the slight all together. He had nothing to be ashamed of.]

Thankfully nothing as boring as a nine to five job or whatever hours some demand from people. I don't know how you do it; I couldn't stand to be on a leash like that.

[He had the luxury of getting to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. He didn't have to listen to his clients either. Rarely did.

But hearing the clanking sounds and being reminded of broken furniture made something even more apparent to him. Possibly disturbing.]

I can, ah, tell you are tied or chained to your bed though. Not sure I wanna know the reason, or if I could stomach hearing it, but if I happen to see her before you do I will gladly deliver the message.

[chose-death.livejournal.com]

I am an old soldier, [states Javert sententiously.] It is not in my nature to buck the command. Men in authority are, in fact, in authority with good reason. For the most part.

[Not that Inspector Javert holds a boring nine to five job in the least. His schedule is unpredictable at best, and when he is on a particularly thrilling hunt after a criminal, he will voluntarily stay on the job until dawn to ensure an arrest.]

Ah! Then that spares me the indignity of explaining this farce. You do have some respect after all!

Now, I do appreciate your word for both matters, but you must excuse me, [he says through his teeth, clearly distracted. The clinking and rattling sound again returns.] There is a bedpost I must splinter.

[assworthsaving]

'For the most part.' [He repeats it silently, but is not in total agreement.] Guess it depends on your line of work.

[Because there were plenty with authority that were just assholes. Thankfully, most of them were gullible assholes.]

Well I'll let you get back to breaking furniture. Sounds like you got everything under control.

[Because, seriously, the thought of Javert chained to bed, possibly unclothed, was not settling well with his stomach. But despite the old man's appearance he seemed quite capable of handling himself.]