Profile

Javert
AGE: 52
HEIGHT/STATURE: 6’3”
WEIGHT/BUILD: Wiry, lean, but gives the impression of strength and toughness. Large coats add bulk to his slim frame.
GENDER: Male
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. Very single. Abundantly single. And likely forcing himself to be uninterested in you, for the moment.
HAIR: Dark black/brown mixed with copious gray, thick and a little textured. He has impressively large sideburns and a wild mop of bangs that he keeps neat with regular trimmings and grooming.
EYES: cold cement gray with mottled brown around the centers
ORIGIN: France, most recently of Paris, June 7th, 1832. He is originally from the South of France and has a lower-class accent. It leans a little into ‘Provençal’ dialect for those with a good ear for accents.
LANGUAGE: French is his primary language. He can recognize Romani from his childhood. He knows some English, German, and Russian (from Napoleon’s Russian Campaign).

VISION
Hugo’s description of Javert is far from flattering: Broad nose, deep nostrils, permanent frown lines between his brows, thick and abundant whiskers, forehead obscured by bangs, searing gaze, strong jaw. He is a wolf-dog in human shape, a predatory animal turned person. His thin lips smiled frequently, laugh rarely. He is a man of lofty stature and even loftier presence, and he cannot help but command attention once he steps into a room. Though he is tall, he is not unusually muscular or strong. He is able to put up a surprisingly good fight, but his strengths lie better in the menacing threat in his eyes and the execution of his carefully-laid plans.

His choice of clothing is usually many-layered, topped by a magnificent frock or caped coat buttoned all the way to the chin. He never slouches and he walks like a military man. He carries with him a large lead-headed cane that doubles as a weapon and a well-worn hat (... once he gets his old clothes back).

SOUND
Cold, deep, abrupt, certain, precise in his wording (CW: suicide in this clip). Even his humor is delivered in a similar even tone. When he is angry, his roar is thunderous. His speech can vary from silken to frenzied, depending on his mood. Often compared to sounds animals make.

SCENT
Since he now works at a smoking lounge, he will always smell like fine tobacco. Aside from that, clean and masculine, a dash of woodsiness and oaky whiskey. He keeps himself neat and groomed, so no sweat, blood, or dirt.

MISC.
Javert lives a very spartan lifestyle and, to be honest, works himself so hard that he sometimes forgets to even eat. Typical meals are not indulgent, and like any cop he’s tempted to grab a cheap bread/pastry and cup of coffee to go. He is perpetually tired but hides it well on most days. He has a little PTSD stemming from his actual-death experience, and thus he has a hell of a time sleeping. Even if he does manage to get a few nightmare-ridden hours of sleep, it is rightly unsatisfying.