VIDEO ✍ 008 --> Lari's Return from Hiatus

[chose_death]

[The video opens to a blank white with a dim shadow at the left corners. It is a moving shadow. There is a faint, muffled rustling sound, and a black, fluid shape - a bedsheet - flutters. Now the indecipherable, severe mutterings of a man's voice can be heard

Comments

[scientize]

[Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to wake up after this last week of unending sleep and pleasant dreams.

And judging from that vicious bit of name calling, not quite as well-rested as the woman had hoped he would wake up to be.]

Good morning, dear. Sleep well?

[chose_death]

You like this too much, you imp!

[The voice snaps in from stage left.]

You slipped me something last night! Was it in the wine? What did you want from it? My hair and whiskers do not feel any shorter this time.

[scientize]

[So grouchy, husband.

Though he can't see it, Naomi is already on her way out of her laboratory to come and release him from this potentially embarrassing scenario.]

I did no such thing. [Fond memory though.] You've been dead asleep for over a week now, hogging the entire bed to yourself.

I should have gotten my own revenge just for that while I had the chance.

[chose_death]

[That is a sobering thought, and the foot abruptly stills. A brief silence reigns.]

A week, [Javert breathes dryly from off-screen. The bed mattress creaks, and there is a light rattle from the gift Naomi did bestow on him in his sleep.] A splitting migraine and a sore wrist for a week! Apparently the rest does me no good.

Tell me! Have I gotten the boot for my absence? Where is my pink slip?

[video... sort of]

[chainsawofdeath]

[The Death God wrinkles his face at the video on his Dreamberry screen - how disgusting! Didn't this man know how to properly care for his feet? Those heels are cracked beyond belief and those toenails?! They probably haven't been clipped in weeks!]

Sweetheart, nobody wants to see that... ♥

[The screen goes black when Grell sets the Dreamberry face-down on the couch next to his leg because, really, who wants to look at that man's feet? They're hideous! His toes are hairy and unsightly!!]

Speaking of your wretched bitch, what's her problem? Why has she been acting so peculiar as of late~??

[chose_death]

I don't keep my wife on a leash, [The French-accented voice says curtly. It is a thoughtless, offhanded remark.

Then a beat passes. Silence reigns.

It's not as if Javert has a clear view of the Dreamberry, dear Grell. When the Inspector (after all, that foot must belong to a man) processed the unexpected tinny voice from his Dreamberry speakers, he froze. The hush descended. Though Grell cannot see a face, he might envision a narrowing of the eyes, a contraction of thinned dread in Javert's expression.]

You will tell me something now, [Javert commands, detached and cold.] Did this device make a public bulletin?

[chainsawofdeath]

Oh, calm down!!

[The Death God rolls his eyes and picks the Dreamberry up so he can see the video once more. This man truly was insufferable!]

Sweetheart, do you really have to ask a question with such an obvious answer? I would not have contacted you, otherwise... ♥

[chose_death]

[Javert hisses a muffled, distant-sounding curse. The foot jerks out of sight of the feed, and instead a hand drops down to the side of the bed with a telling chain-rattle. If Grell were to look closely at the video, he might see something that looks like leopard pelt wrapped around Javert's wrist.]

Oh! Sure! Very capital. It grants me a very capital opportunity to publicly announce my morning toilette, [is his deadpan remark. The truth is, the Inspector is rather humiliated that such a personal affair is on display for all to see. It simply isn't proper or decent for a man of his position.

There is a thoughtful silence, while Javert's quick head attempts to discern a way out of this fine dilemma.] You say my wife is acting peculiar? Send that woman to me. I will judge if it is true.

[mudbloodhater]

With all due respect, I don't think that's very nice to declare of anyone. [ever the sweet, innocent troll.]

[chose_death]

Then I shall remind myself to say it away from your tender ears, [Javert retorts dryly. By now, he has already learned of the severe blunder of dropping his Dreamberry over the side of the bed. Of course the damn device would switch on and broadcast him at this most depraved and degraded predicament.

A chain clinks in the background, and the Inspector continues,]

I don't recall calling myself a genteel or gallant man.

[mudbloodhater]

I don't recall you calling yourself much, to be fair. [presence of chains duly noted, if not a tad odd.]

Being that you and I have had very few conversations in the past.

[chose_death]

Indeed! I'm aware that you have a marked preference for that wench-wife of mine.

[A snort, and another rattle. Javert's thick hand drops into view of the video feed, off the edge of the bed, but it is suspended at an awkward angle, his wrist above both his elbows and extended fingers.

... And what the hell is that fuzzy cuff around that wrist, spotted like a leopard?]

I will admit that she makes more pleasing company than me. Now I want to keep this short: Do you know where she is tucking herself away?

[chose_death]

What! Who are you? I recognize that voice. Is it David?

[This is completely indecent and undignified. The foot swings out of view.]

You must be joking. Unless you know another devilish tart with access to my flat.

[chose_death]

[Javert's tone is brusque.] So it seems. You know her schemes! Does she carry the keys with her? Or do you think her the sort to conceal them here?

[chose_death]

[What an excellent way to greet your boss after an unexpected vacation: With Javert, humbled and humiliated and in a state of undress, and his superior looking down his nose at a bare foot.

Positively splendid! Javert replies respectfully with perhaps a twinge of bitter embarrassment, his foot moving away from the video feed,]

A fine welcome it is, Monsieur.

[chose_death]

I must ask you to leave a copy of the report on my desk. I am held up, Monsieur. There is... someone I must meet before I am to come in today.