marcato | (no subject)

(no subject)

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, SATURNSCHILD. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 001.00.653.90 * SATURNSCHILD has joined 001.00.653.90 <saturnschild> Hello. <saturnschild>** I'm listening.

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[True to his word -- and Javert's word is always good -- it takes him the better part of an hour to transpose his journal writings into a document on his laptop. The list appears as a message in Aunamee's inbox at around 3 o'clock in the afternoon.

The List is divided into two sections. The first section is a meticulous documentation of each human killed by his hand, and the number is not small. The second section is much smaller, and reads as follows:]

Hannibal Lecter; Bled in house Monseigneur Aunamee; Knife to the heart, fabrication of the mind Roman Sionis; Bled in an alleyway, misidentification error The Goblin Varian; Authorized execution Cassandra; Miscalculation in a scuffle Jim Moriarty; Bled Jean Valjean

[There's a long pause.]

You know, Javert, your abundant honesty is liable to kill you someday. I imagine that's the plan.

It is not anything I haven't died for already. There are not many who understand as you do, for all the dramatics that make you famous.

[There's a long, long pause.]

Is that so?

I am not a sniveling brown-noser. I don't say what I do not mean.

Thank you, Javert. I won't forget that.

[Pause.]

You killed the therapist.

So I did. He is on the list, is he not? What about it?

He's either a crook, or you mistook him for a human. I'm curious which it was.

You are limiting the options too much.

Were you being merciful?

Now you are a veritable jester, Monseigneur. Do not insult me so!

[Pause.]

Surely you wouldn't leave a stricken man to die in the dirt. You'd finish the job.

I killed him because in that moment, upon that late November evening, he enticed me. I did not see him expire. I did not wait at his side. I did not return to collect him from the stinking, stained dirt. Do you understand me, now? Do not tell me what I would not do. You are wrong.

Edited 2021-01-19 00:20 (UTC)

[He likes this answer. It's unexpected, but in a way that he finds thrilling. Dizzying.]

Be careful with your words, Javert. It sounds to me like you've admitted to killing a monster for the thrill of it.

Tell me something. Is it common for the vampires of Ryslig to produce whelps from their bites?

Edited 2021-01-21 03:40 (UTC)

You tell me, my fellow priest. I'm not biting anyone.

His body was not yet changed when I killed him. He is quite thoroughly changed now, into another one like me. If Madame Fog wishes to use me in this way, who am I to protest?

You couldn't. It would be blasphemous.

I wish I could've seen your evolution up close, dearest Javert. But I'll gladly settle for the aftermath.

You would be sorely disappointed. I remain the same as I have always been, without the denial.

The denial was an essential element, like a shadow obscuring your true self. Now you have different shadows.

Tell me more about November.

You are a clever one. Surely you gathered much of the details by now.

Of course I know the details, Javert. I saw it unfold.

I want to know why you did it.

Because they deserved it. As did I.

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(no subject)

<PasUnPolicier> 1/1/2021

<saturnschild> cw: suicide

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