(no subject)

[marcato]

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.

Comments

[inseine]

Over-generous, indeed.

[Javert is silent while his face attempts to figure where on earth to settle. His thin lips twist up, down, then settle into a stubborn thin line. Blank, bland, unreadable.

If Aunamee is expecting a lengthy story, he may be disappointed. Javert keeps it short and blunt, which doubtless leaves him open to plenty of probing questions.]

He spared my life. When he had plenty to gain with my death and everything to lose in allowing me to walk. At no benefit to himself.

[marcato]

Did you deserve death?

[His tone is nonchalant. Unremarkable. For Aunamee, deserving death is a simple, objective fact, like having brown hair. ]

[inseine]

I had a right to die then.

[Two impassive monsters discussing death as casually as if they were chatting about how water is wet. He smiles, a dry, dull thing.]

My execution was a natural consequence. Violent insurgents are not in the habit of letting their captured police-spies stroll back home.

[marcato]

So you took matters into your own hands.

[It's twisted, but it makes sense to him. Aunamee's mind is ruled by rigid rituals, the compulsive desire to fix mistakes and balance the unbalanced. ]

That's why you threw yourself into the river.

CW: Suicide references from here on out

[inseine]

[It isn't quite that simple. What drives a man to suicide rarely is that simple. There were more wrongs committed than letting him go free, and not only was he, Javert, complicit in them, but he was one of those wrongs. He owed his life to a convict, and he gave it up to him in the only way he knew how.

Javert's face is dispassionate, indeterminate.]

That was part of it. Not the whole of it.

[marcato]

[He cocks his head to the side, letting his curiosity shine through his words. It's not the right tone of voice for someone discussing suicide.]

What was the rest of it?

[inseine]

[Javert hums, losing himself in his vivid memories. His eyes look without seeing, his cup twisting back and forth in his grasp. What is the rest of it? The short of it is thusly:

The world does not work the way he understood it to. And when Javert was shown his mistaken understanding, he could not bear the weight of it on his conscience.

The corner of his mouth makes a slow creep down into the crags of his face.]

That story was not part of our bargain, monsieur.

[marcato]

No.

[There's a smile in his words, but only because he's using it to swallow his disappointment.

It's all right. He doesn't need to learn everything all at once, does he? There's something to be said for leaving a little mystery.]

Are we finished with our business? I must admit, it's been a pleasure seeing you again. You wear your vampirism well.

Gonna wrap here, narrowing down my threads <3 Can't wait for more!

[inseine]

I was unaware that there was a good way to wear vampirism.

[He polishes off his blood coffee and begins to gather his things.]

We are finished. More stories are best left for another bargain. Don't let me keep you, certainly there are poachers with eyes on this café. À bientôt, my good man.

[Try not to let the 'network trolls' chafe your arse so much, Aunamee. It really shows your worst side, and Javert is always watching and assessing.]