(Untitled)

[nestingdevil]

Who: The Troublesome Four; Inspector Javert | chose_death, Gabriel | trickster_mk2, Naomi Hunter | scientize, and Greed | nestingdevil
What: The gathering of four very different individuals on a dinner "date." It's to discuss business and deal deeds, really.
Where: Starting Point ➥ Devil's Nest
When: Monday Evening.
Rating: Considering the very nature of these people, pushing R.

Comments

[nestingdevil]

"Can't deny that you weren't on our minds, Naomi," Greed perked up as he followed the woman through her home. Sure, it wasn't the best - much like his neck of the woods - but it worked. Seemed fitting for the two of them to be shacked up like this; not exactly the Ritz, but it was flashier than his place. More homely less home wrecked. The homunculus curved his thumbs in his belt buckle. "But you would already know that, wouldn't you?" A sneer graced his face, accompanied by a sharp upward rise of a thin, black eyebrow. He laughed, low and slow. "I almost thought it was going to be just us guys - would have been a total wash out."

He moved, turning with the pull of the dining table. He whistled then, tilted his head back. "You out did yourself. All this for us? You shouldn't have." Sarcasm was Greed's best friend. And maybe he did appreciate the home cooked meal, but his nature bit against thank you(s) and kind matters of grace. He shoved himself right into a seat, kicked his legs out under the table. "Can't deny that I'm interested to see what this all is - after all, all three of you aren't from my world." Because Ametris was that much different. A twinge, at least Greed assumed. Gabriel described an interesting world back home - York of New? Something like that. And Javert? That was an odd name all in itself.

Nevermind Naomi - a doctor that wasn't afraid to show everyone her goods. Temptress of everyone wanton man in the city.

Yeah, not conventional. Certainly nothing he had heard of. But it was all sincerely welcome.

Greed tilted his head back, let his shoulder sag against the chair supporting his spine. "So, are we all going to talk shop here or what?"

[trickster_mk2]

Gabriel grins from ear to ear when he sees Naomi, of course he does, and he can't help but lean right in and press a kiss to her cheek, and then again to the other, his hands resting lightly on her elbows. She looks unbelivably good, as per usual, and he can't resist telling her so in a low murmur even as the others talk around them. Gabriel's been here before of course, knows his way around so he doesn't worry about going on the tour, just leaves himself in the dining room. He's not waiting long, not even long enough to steal anything off the table, but that's probably for the best. Got to be on his best behaviour, hasn't he? This is all work and little play.

"Naomi lives with the belief that everyone should roll home after one of her parties. Either full, or drunk, or both. I'm lucky I didn't end up in the lake last time." He said, sliding into a seat of his own. Next to Greed, he supposed. Them one side, Javert and Naomi the other. After all, as Greed had just reminded them, this was business as well as pleasure. Although, frankly, Gabriel was out for as much enjoyment this evening as he could get. But he also wanted to find out what the hells Javert was so interested in vampires for, monsters. Criminals made sense, but if he was going to start messing around in Hunting, Gabriel was going to have to step in there as soon as possible. For all his cold looks and put-downs, Javert was not exactly the sort what could handle some of the nasties that might come crawling out the woodwork.

"Well, none of us are oginially from the same place, are we?" Gabriel said, leaning forward and grinning at Naomi again, desperate to poke her under the table with the toe of his shoe, but unable to until she sat down. And Javert probably wouldn't like a game of footsie either. Gabriel wouldn't lie though, he was very much intrigued by the idea that Greed was used to different food- especially when the booze didn't seem all that different at all. Maybe, next time, he'd suggest Greed cook something up. If this became a calander event, of course.

[chose_death]

Javert was the last to enter. Like a statuesque doorman, he was the one to hold open the main door and to shut it behind Gabriel's last languid step. The three men smelled faintly of fading cigarette smoke. It was up to Naomi to guess whether Javert had snuck in a light prior to their return or whether it was the stale stench of seedy bar aroma that permeated their hair and clothes. If Javert's rather plucky spirits were any indication, Naomi would know that he left in a good mood and returned in a satisfied one. She probably had her way of knowing what her husband was up to as women do.

"What shop?" Javert asked obliquely with a tilt of his brow. He folded his arms across his chest as he strode, taking his sweet meandering time, to the spot at the dining table beside Naomi. "The shop is closed. This is the home for however long we stand it here. Business talk is done."

Really? His motivations must have been even harder to discern now than it was before the bet, Greed! The entire walk here sounded like no more than a casual conversation with only the faintest of probing into the curiosities Greed met during the week. Had Javert already felt a gain, with the seemingly inconsequential things he asked? Or did he have something more complex brewing in his mind?

That mystery would have to rest until another day. Javert was baring his queer, predatory, lopsided grin.

"It is not the place we come from that is so important," said Javert, head at an angle like a curious spaniel's. "Different countries, different lands, that is a matter of culture and language. It is when. But I advise you not to poke your nose too deeply along those veins. Naomi here does not enjoy reminders that I am an old dog."

[scientize]

They truly had to be the most mismatched group of individuals coming together to share a meal that Aliunde had ever seen.

The greetings exchanged between the friends was brief. Greed was given a pleasant, somewhat smug smile at the idea of how terribly droll an evening without her would be. Gabe, a light smack on the arm at his too kind compliment, but really, as bright a look as she shared with him, the angel should be able to tell she was just being playful. And Javert? Well, Naomi swooped in to press a soft kiss to his cheek despite his aversion to public displays of affection, but immediately withdrew with a wrinkle of her nose. Though to his surprise, his petite wife uncharacteristically said nothing and instead continued ushering everyone around the small space.

After seeing to it that all of the men were seated at the kitchen table, Naomi motioned for her husband to handle the wine while she slipped into the kitchen to bring out the rest of the meal. It wasn't quite as impressive as the orange pork the woman had slaved over for her special dinner with Gabriel, but the chicken and vegetable mix with rice seemed like an appropriate meal for a group of this size. Along with the main dish was a freshly tossed salad and some packaged dinner rolls. No meatloaf in sight, thank God.

As Naomi allowed her guests to plate themselves up on their own (she was feeling just the slightest bit lightheaded tonight), Javert's wife took her place beside him, reaching under the table to affectionately pat his leg at his thoughtfulness. "Maybe we can save that talk for after dinner. Just let me have a few glasses of wine first and it may not bother me as much." Those beautiful dark eyes of hers flicked between Greed and Gabriel. "I have to admit I'm curious."

[nestingdevil]

Greed let his shoulders sag with a cant of a shrug. "That's fine by me - I'd rather enjoy myself. But I figured since I was allowed in your company, I would extend the offer of finishing up business and heading on my way." He adjusted, folded himself upright. If that was all they were going to do, fine. He wouldn't look a free meal in the face and while all of it looked familiar, he was pretty excited to try Naomi's home-made meal.

So, he dished out what he wanted himself. First one in, it almost seemed fitting - he was greedy after all and maybe he wasn't as gluttonous as some others at the table. But Greed wasn't going to pass up on something that was given. "When? Do you really want to know that?" He paused between shuffling chicken and rice onto his plate and let the serving spoons hover in mid-air. "Fine." He dumped off his portion of food, tossed the spoons back into their appropriate dishes. "I guess it was going to come up sooner or later, right?"

Food in tow, Greed reclined back. He set his elbows up on the table and laced his fingers. Tapped one index finger across a knuckle and boy, was he beaming with one of those vicious smiles of his. His sunglasses jerked under the pull of his expression. "I can only give you an estimate about when I was made, but." Under the table, he adjusted one foot and coiled a heel towards the tip of the opposite. "Around 1715, 1720 in what is now known as Amestris. Wasn't so much back then."

He uncoiled, grabbed a spoon of food and bounced it as he spoke. "Lasted until around 1920," he said before shoveling a hefty portion of food into his mouth. He bristled at it, all the hackles on his body seeming to rise. "-this is fucking delicious!" Greed said, manners out the windows. He snagged meat right by the teeth, dragged it down his gullet and continued for a few minutes, until his throat was bulging with the stuff. Swallowed, maybe with a little bit of difficulty, then breathed.

"Maybe I should hire you to cook for me personally, Naomi."

He placed the silverware down, touched his lip with his thumb to remove anything that might have slipped by. "You're old by human standards, sure. But that's what she likes about you, isn't it? Ha! A girl who really knows what she wants." Lazy purple eyes exposed themselves. "I like it."

[trickster_mk2]

Gabriel had sort of heard the dates banded around, two hundred years but to have it nailed down specifically? That was new. And he couldn't help but find Greed's table manners endlessly amusing, leaning slightly to the far side and turning at an angle to watch the other eat. He'd only ever seen him down drinks and candy before, this was a whole new experience. It was almost distracting him from his lovely hostess.

He did manage a glance at her though, and her husband, before smirking widely, more than happy to jump at the chance to wind Javert up a little. "Naomi, you've actually surrounded yourself with older men. Surely Javert looks the part but really, he's a spring chicken in comparison to me and Greed. He's got nothing on us."

He took the chance to help himself to a couple of spoonfuls of rice and chicken too, not about to miss out on food, even if it was savoury. "Maybe that's why he's so bothered about the undead? More competition? Javert, you know that's just stupid, right?"

No way was Gabriel standing on ceremony.whatever business Greed and Javert had, he knew them all outside of that. And he wasn't about to give anyone an easy ride.

"You all know where I'm from. Naomi might not want to believe it, but you all know the stories. I pass the buck. And handsome if you think this is good, you should try the orange pork she made for me. It was perfection on a plate. You have to make that for him, honest to Dad."

[chose_death]

"Imagine how he would receive a filet," murmured Javert to his wife. As expected, he took the liberty of popping open the light summer wine, a dry vin-gris that paired with the meal and weather decently, and pouring the glasses with the practiced flourish of a barkeep. The way he arched his brow cast a distinctly unimpressed feeling upon Greed's enthusiasm and vigor in attacking a simple chicken breast and ratatouille concoction. The dish was something very common to his Provençale roots, but he did not often have the opportunity to indulge in fresh foods. In life, his diet typically consisted of thin broth, cabbage, and bread. He was not the kind of man who gave much thought, money or time to his meals.

Naomi might actually get a chuckle from Greed's table manners, but not for the obvious reasons. Rather, it might remind her of Javert's pauperish eating habits and the way he used to inhale his food as if he had no idea when he would next get fed. He has since grown used to regular mealtimes, and he was not quite as much of the ravenous wolf when placed in front of a fancy setting.

Javert took his seat and made certain Naomi was served before adding to his own plate a modest serving. The wine glass he swirled languidly in one hand. Greed confirmed Javert's suspicions about him: at least two hundred years old was right on the mark. There was no balk or start of surprise from the aloof and mysterious Frenchmen. In fact, little emotion crept into his manner, save for one minor observation: Like he had since the beginning of the night, he cast Gabriel the occasional discomfited glance and minute shudder, especially when he opened his mouth to speak to Javert directly.

His back straightened to mirror the stiff wooden back of his chair.

"It would make me a hideous hypocrite. To let the undead bother the likes of me," he admitted thoughtfully and sipped. He tilted his head, eyelids lulling to narrow slits. "You say I'm a spring chicken, my wife like a babe, Monsieur Gabriel. You must know where we come from already. Let us say I am about sixty years this man's junior, if my papers were accurate. And leave it there."

[scientize]

"I'd rather keep that delightful imagery out of my mind and maintain my appetite, thank you very much," the charming woman quipped right back at her husband in regards to Greed's rather avaricious way of eating. Though, Javert was correct about one thing, the corner of her full lip twitched as Naomi observed her guest, her gleaming eyes flicking over to the former police inspector in a silent inside joke between them.

Watching the pair in person together, Greed and Gabrielle would likely observe a great more many nonverbal communications between the married couple as they continued to share this meal together. After all of their years and different lifetimes together, they seem to have developed their own personal language to share when others were around.

Preferring to poke at her salad daintily before tackling any of the main dish, there was one piece of information that caught the scientist's attention more than the homunculus' true age. "Amestris?" Fork hovering over her plate, Naomi couldn't help but lean in a little eagerly over the table. "Where is that located?" As much as she hated to believe it, it did seem that time wasn't the only thing that separated her and a few of Aliunde's other residents. It was difficult to accept without any real evidence or any true logic behind it, but perhaps they really did come from different worlds as well.

Perhaps.

"Well, as much as I'd like to give up my well paying career as a highly respected doctor to play personal caterer to you, Greed," her lips curled into a cutting smirk, directed straight at her honored guest. "But I'll have to pass. Maybe during my next lifetime." Though, by that look on her face, it really wasn't likely. Naomi's time in the kitchen may have surprisingly turned into an activity that she genuinely took pride in, but that didn't mean she was going to ever even consider lowering her social status by becoming a dive bar's cook. No thank you.

And then the conversation shifted straight into the very territory she had no inclination towards discussing. "Yes," Naomi's tone turned tense, lowering down a notch or two as she answered more cautiously. "I suppose I have, haven't I? A table full of old men."

Didn't she just say to save this conversation until after she'd had a drink or two, fellows? With a marginally aggravated roll of her eyes, Naomi gracefully stood up from her seat, shooting a pointed look to all three men.

"We need more napkins, don't we?"

Without waiting for a response, Naomi slipped into the cramped kitchen to dig around in her drawers and excuse herself briefly from the discussion.

[nestingdevil]

"Now why would you be interested in that place?" Greed took a moment to swallow, cleaned his teeth with his tongue. Set the fork down on the edge of the plate and just watched Naomi for a second. He could see the interest coming off of her and he purred, let his lips make a closed smile. "It's the country I'm from - obviously, no where you'd know. Military state, always expanding. If you have to know the basics, I was created in what's called Central. That's where all the big wigs are - the State Alchemists, the Führer. It wasn't there two hundred years ago - not like it is today." He tapped near the edge of his banquet, rolled fingers on the table top.

"Skipped town after the first hundred years, headed south to Dublith. And the rest?" The homunculus threw his shoulders back, reclined deep in the seat provided. "That's just a history lesson that you don't need to concern yourself with." And Greed wasn't up to explaining, really. Lost years, lost time, lost opportunities. He had been under a heavy thumb then and the homunculus wasn't too fond of that side of his past. He shrugged it off though, as he usually did, then proceeded with his meal.

The tenseness that came after stopped Greed between mouth-fulls. He raised an eyebrow above his sunglasses and pushed his plate forward by the edge. She was up in a jerk, irritation flooding the room as soon as she excused herself. The Sin huffed, pushed himself away from the table by his palms. "I'm guessing that's my fault - " He said more to himself than the rest. He placed hands into his pockets and lifted himself upright. Made the chair behind him grunt its displeasure.

"Eh." Greed slunk after her, grimace on his face. "I'll take care of it." He shuffled on ahead, following the angry wake of one Naomi Hunter. He slipped through a door frame, ducked to avoid some choice furniture.

"Let me give you a hand," he said as he passed from the dining hall into the kitchen.

[trickster_mk2]

Gabriel had been ready to get up and follow their hostess out and into the kitchen. But Greed had beat him to it, under the mistaken belief that he'd been the one to say whatever it was that had upset Naomi so much. But that wasn't the case, Gabriel was sure of it, he had seen her face stiffen when everyone's ages had been discussed- clearly it wasn't a topic of conversation she had enjoyed.

Even so, manners dictated he not run off after the pair of them, even if he felt it was the best thing to do. He wasn't about to leave Javert here by himself at any rate.

"You know Javert, we really need to stop meeting like this." he said calmly, taking hold of his glass and taking a swallow of the wine there-in. "No advance warning, no written invitation. It really isn't on." He was joking of course, but keeping his face impassive.

He glanced at the kitchen then, towards the disappeared devil and the shapely doctor. "Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned you're a cradle snatcher."

[chose_death]

The corner of Javert's mouth twitched, and he followed his wife, then Greed, with his eyes. A frown weaved its way from his searing gaze to his downturned lip. Hadn't he warned Gabriel and Greed that Naomi preferred to let things like age and differing eras lie? Certainly, it was evident with a glance and a handful of words that Javert was rather old-fashioned compared to his modern and scantily-clad wife. Treading further than that was both not useful and unnecessary.

"I got my warning. Dug it up with some poking about. I made the proper preparations," Javert gave a slight shrug to Gabriel's cradle-snatcher comment with an impassive curl in the muzzle. "Beg your new pet for the advance."

Any smidgeon of good humor and joviality Javert displayed during his, Gabriel's, and Greed's trek from the Devil's Nest drained from his face in an instant. His head lowered, ferocious square chin dropping into his collar, while he contemplated his swirling wine glass like a connoisseur or a sommelier wondering, with stolid distaste, if this meal would match better with a bit of bubbly rather than a vin-gris. The brick wall resumed its place in his expression; emotion only had room to reside in the minutest of cracks.

"You have queer tastes in companions. Is it indecent for me to ask what you are after?"

[scientize]

Naomi rounded around upon Greed the very exact moment that he so stealthily glided into the bitty space that was her tiny kitchen, bumping against him at the abrupt movement before those delicate hands moved down to rest upon her own shapely hips.

Enjoy that skeptical stare, Mr. Homunculus. It seemed that Javert wasn't the only person attending this event that found Greed following the woman away from the kitchen table packed with food to be just the slightest bit suspicious. Granted, Naomi's only thinking along those lines because of her current moodiness from the incredibly uncomfortable feeling that had just settled in at the bottom of her stomach. For all of his quirks, she actually does really enjoy the man's company for the most part generally.

Naomi just doesn't like anyone when she's in a mood. Thankfully, they pass by fast. Give her two seconds, Greed.

"Give me a hand? Really?"

Snatching the small pile of cloth napkins up off of what little available counter space there actually was, Naomi held out the pile with an arch of her slender brows. "I realize I'm likely the most physically weakest member of this ragtag group, but I can absolutely assure you that there is very little chance of me harming myself too badly with this particular task. I'm not helpless." Yes, Greed might have just been trying to be uncharacteristically kind to his hostess, but some things are just not meant to be. He'll be getting no bonus points under his name tonight.

But, for lack of a better reason to shove him out of her personal area, Naomi thrust the bundle of fancy linen straight into his broad chest, frowning.

"There. Extras. In case you need more for that uncivilized way you eat."

[nestingdevil]

The shove of napkins and the whip-lash of insults were enough to keep Greed still. Though he slouched casually, hip right up against the door frame. He let her go on her rant, even as his face fell with an exasperated expression. Obviously, she was offended - the age thing had probably set her off, as Javert had warned. But the homunculus was not one to exactly heed rules and regulations. Broke them on a constant basis if he could help it.

Still, it was a little much to be forced into the snarling jaws of one Naomi Hunter.

Greed huffed, shoved a finger in his ear a second. "Did I accuse you of being weak?" A little annoyance crept at the back of his throat, but he let it slide right back down into his gullet. Feigned dramatic irritation with half-lidded eyes and a loose jaw. "Don't need to tell me twice." He retreated back, rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "I make it a life goal not to fight with women. But if you have to lay it on me, be quick about it. Don't want any unwanted attention." Greed jerked his head back to the dining room, his voice a whisper.

Because really, this wouldn't do. He came to talk business and have a good time of things. Arguing over age, race, whatever - it wasn't on his "want" list.

The homunculus quirked his upper lip. Laughed at the way she smeared his eating habits. He leaned in then, elbow shoved at the top corner of the frame. Greed snapped his jaws, emphasizing with an insidious smirk. "Next time, I'll remember not to make a beast of myself, but you can't tame a monster easily. I'm just doing what I was made to do - take what I want and savor it." Bursting out in another chuckle, Greed turned back into the dining room. Stopped only once.

"All you need to do is ask. I'll give you want you want. And if that means taking a crack at my skull, well-" Shrugged back forward, let his head lull with another signature grin. "-it isn't like I haven't grown it back twice now."

[trickster_mk2]

“Pet?” Gabriel repeated his expression a strange twisted mix between amused and horrified. If it had been anyone else that Javert had called his pet, Gabriel would have accepted it with a grin. Laughed, even, depending on how outrageous it was- seriously? Gabriel didn’t have pets, not human ones, or human-shaped ones. Not his style. He’d not had company back home, and the only reason he had it now was because they had no choice but to stick together and survive. But he was responsible for only one of them, Alice, and she wasn’t a pet, wasn’t something he had to entertainment or because he was lacking for things to do.

But that wasn’t what he found amusing. Had Greed heard that? If he had, the artificial creature would probably be cackling away now, so Gabriel assumed he hadn’t. He’d save it and tell Greed later, afterwards. He’d find the whole thing hilarious, Gabriel was certain of that.

“I think, Javert, you completely misunderstand the situation.” He said, more softly, taking another swallow of the wine and then leaning back in his chair. “I’m not pulling any strings here, in fact, I’m a little in the dark. Humans are always up to something, and Greed... well, he’s something else all together. Doesn’t come under my remit.”

He glanced to the kitchen then, frowning at words that he thought he heard, Naomi’s tone. It was as clear as if Naomi and Greed were still in the room, and while the walls here were paper thin, Gabriel doubted a human could hear like he could.

“Why do you think I’m after anything, Javert? Not like you humans am I? Just exist to serve Dear Ol’ Dad’s purpose. You know that, even if you are a heathen.” That last part was a joke, of course, meant only to annoy the inspector, but Gabriel probably should have picked his words more carefully around this particular human. Too late now.

"Honestly, think about it. I'm just enjoying your company. Do you really think there's anything you could do for me? Don't need humans." Greed was a whole other kettle of fish though. Greed could deliver Gabriel everything he needed, and wanted, and all Gabriel had to promise was his loyalty. That he could do, and had done, and he wasn't about to break that oath.

[chose_death]

Javert raised a distant stare to Gabriel. In a glance, one could see he was not altogether there, troubled as he was. Where he would normally bestow a gimlet's sharp and penetrating glare on most people, he looked directly through Gabriel and to the wine cabinet on the back side of the room. The furrow in his brow deepened to a trench.

That terrible, hazy expression said only one thing, loud and clear: You puzzle me. It was uncertainty.

Examine the moment long and hard, because it is very rare that Javert, when he was conscious of keeping an appearance as he was that night, allowed his mask to slip so far. Around Gabriel he saw little point. Around Greed, it was critical for him to grip his poise and grasp for certainties and assurances firmly. With Gabriel, he perceived himself as inferior, no matter how confused and jumbled that pretty picture of angelic justice became the more he observed that creature interact with other people.

"What gave you the impression that I meant to say you were after something from me?" came the low, measured reply. Yet he heard the answer he sought nonetheless, despite Gabriel's denial: God's purpose. Entertainment. Enjoyment. Those were tangible and achievable goals, weren’t they?

Javert did not wait for Gabriel's retort. Greed was on his way back in, and Javert danced to the occasion. His whole mien transformed in an instant, and he tilted his chin up like a smug and cocky spaniel. He raised his glass.

"One hand on my wife, Greed, and consider your entire person forfeit," he said, quick as a whiplash and just as assured.

It seemed that Gabriel was wrong about Javert's inability to hear or comprehend the kitchen conversation. Even in the face of judgment and distress, Javert was ever the vigilant observer and spy. He would take mental notes on his way to the gallows, if it came to that.

With a single rattle of his wine, he pressed the glass to his lips and kicked the entire vessel back as if it were nothing more than a one-ounce shot.

[trickster_mk2]

“Because that’s what most humans want to know. How will this affect me and mine?” Gabriel replied, shrugging and picking at his food. It was food, but he wasn’t a being that ever really hungered, and when he did, it was for something with a much, much higher sugar content than rice and chicken. “And as unique as you are, Javert, Dad made you just like He made all the others. ‘Sides. You’d want to know if I wanted something from Naomi, right?” He grinned then, suddenly filthy, although frankly, Gabriel himself didn’t want anything at all from the couple, apart from what he’d already received, friendship.

Of course that could be withdrawn at any point, would be if he pushed too far too fast, but he already seemed to have won Naomi over, and he doubted that she’d stop seeing him on Javert’s account. At least, she didn’t seem the sort.

Then he shifted, watching as Greed re-emerged and he straightened up slightly, as if for some reason he didn’t want to be seen slouching. Not when the foreman walked onto the factory floor, anyway.

But even if he was trying to be serious, Javert’s words in Greed’s direction had Gabriel laughing hard, leaning forward over the table. “Oh Dad, Javert. Oh Dad.” He gasped, straightening slightly again and wiping his eyes. Seriously? Javert didn’t know Greed, and it seemed to Gabriel he didn’t know Naomi. Now there was a woman who wouldn’t think twice about kicking someone in the balls. But suddenly the angel was serious, watching the Frenchmen with a smile on his lips, but a cold glint in his eyes. “One hand on Greed, Javert, and your soul is mine, capiche? I bet I could find more use for it than Lucifer.”

"Naomi? Come in here and sort out your husband. He's trying to kick me under the table." He called then, taking hold of the wine bottle and refilling all the glasses that seemed in need of it, especially Javert's.