Dream ✍ 003

[chose_death]

Warnings: Heavily implicated death. Spoilers for Les Misérables... If, you know, people are concerned with spoilers for 19th century lit.
Dream Effect: [OPTIONAL] Those who choose to feel it will get slammed in the face with a fluctuation of emotions as written. If you opt in for sensation, as well, stick to what's written - there will be a

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[stole_bread]

[Remaining silent as he always does when observing the younger man's dreams and video posts, it isn't until the end of the dream that Valjean manages to utter out a few syllables, his mind completely blown by the ordeal.

As with the others who have witnessed this new phenomenon during the Inspector's dream broadcast, he feels each sensation intensely, the macabre awareness of suffocation frightening the old man much more than he would ever care to admit.

What dream was this? A dream of Javert's death? No, his suicide? Yes, it had been a suicide, there was no doubt in that now.]

2/2

[stole_bread]

Javert-... [Fauchelevent's throat catches uncharacteristically. He is clearly shaken by everything in the dream, but most specifically, the ending. Though the man has condemned himself to death and whatever lay waiting for him afterword, the Inspector walks proudly, without haste to his final destination. It feels almost inhuman.

And, of course, there is the other concern in the kind man's heart. What if his Alice was to lay eyes upon this? It would scare her to death, the innocent soul.

But he has already spoken Javert's name. He must continue. There will be time to speak with the girl later.

There is much he'd like to say, but to confront the man so bluntly about his personal and private reasons for committing such a sin would be very wrong, especially given their already strained relationship.]

80 francs? For such a brief ride?

[chose_death]

[Javert halts at the sound of his name in Fauchelevent's voice. Once upon a time, Javert would have demanded the old man to call him Monsieur L'Inspecteur. Those days were long gone.

When the Inspector lifts the feed to his face, his expression says it all: Yes, of course. It's you. Javert's spectre.

His lips retract, his teeth and gums bared in a macabre mockery of a grin.]

The dead boy, the insurgent, made a mess, if I recall. Remember upholstery is expensive.

[stole_bread]

[Fauchelevent notices the look and identifies the meaning behind it easily. His opinion is neither needed or wanted.

Though Javert may grin unpleasantly, the other man's face remains as passive as always, no sign of emotion after he has recovered from that intensity of viewing such a dream.]

...He was not yet dead. You were too quick to judge.

[chose_death]

As far as it mattered, he was a dead boy. [It was a sharp, short response. He flashed a brief, unconscious grimace, but it quickly dissipates. His expression fell to a cold, oddly simmering impassivity. A weary, carefully detached civility.] What happens to live traitors can't have slipped your mind. Remarkable how your naivete remains intact in so many years.

1/2

[stole_bread]

[At Javert's comment, the man quiets immediately, his thoughts turning to the merry and joyous scenes he has left behind from his true world. The Inspector, because of his rash and condemning actions, will never know just how much luck the young dying man has run into. Or how his character still continues to diminish in Fauchelevent's eyes, even if they can no longer meet face-to-face again.

And what a relief that small fact would be if his shining light was alongside of him in this place.

...However, that is not a road that he wants to step down today or any day. He has no intention of making Javert aware of anything from his personal life. At least, not more than his dear Alice has rather innocently spoken aloud to the misguided man already.

And now, all that looms over him is the subject of the dream itself, the suicide of Javert. Though the man would have no reason to believe (besides the coincidence of timing) that he was in anyway responsible for the younger man's forced death, there is a pity he can not shake. Javert was a

[stole_bread]

When I was previously made aware to your sudden death the very night you were meant to arrest me, it was only natural that I came to question the affair.

... [Would the Inspector still have done the deed if the convict had been locked away?]

I had meant to find you that night and correct things. To follow you to the station after my business was concluded.

[chose_death]

[The silence is distracting. The Inspector let himself drift away into his own compounding thoughts. He appears as if his mind traversed the desert and halted in a faraway place, beyond what the eye could see in Espoir and Somni City proper.

But when Valjean makes that preposterous suggestion, his face screws ferociously, eyes bulging. He is Lazarus sprung violently to life.]

Why in God's name would you do something like that? [And then, in a calmer, resigned mutter with a low snort through his teeth,] You, 'correct' things.

[He huffs. He had left things corrected, Valjean. Or as correct as he could make them, down to the last dotted i.]

[stole_bread]

[Naturally, he does not take offense to Javert's ferocity, only giving his head the slightest of shakes.]

I had already given you my assurance that I would be taken into your custody. To break a vow like that would only add to the weight on my soul.

[chose_death]

I grow tired of your excessive charity.

[Sheer aggravation with a touch of pain written on his face. He wrinkles his nose as if disgusted. He hisses a weary sigh.]

Very well, I'll be perfectly clear. Valjean, you are free. Not another man believes you are alive in Paris. Scrap that vow from your immortal soul; it is finished.