Javert ✍ 003

[chose_death]

Who: Inspector Javert, anyone who happens by
Where: A bridge somewhere in Somni
Style: Either
Status: Open like the Wind. The Inspector needs to be bothered today

Comments

[chose_death]

Javert lifted the heel of his foot and stoppered the can with a click of his boot. After a pause, as if to communicate to the river a silent reassurance that he would only be a moment, the Inspector stiffly bent down and picked up the can. He tested the can's weight, bobbing it up and down in his massive hand, then cast his stare downward to read the label. He looked up to Phoenix with a curl of his lip and brow. Immediately, his strangely fogged gaze was drawn to the baguette in the defense attorney's arms.

The Inspector frowned. He only had a quarter of a loaf remaining.

"If you had the capacity," Javert began in his characteristic calm, abrupt tone. His gaze lingered on the bread a moment or two longer than necessary as he tossed the can in little hops into the air. What instinct was stronger - the strong desire to be left to his own devices, or this inconceivable want for bread, of all things? "I would tell you to catch. As it were..."

He lazily offered the can to Phoenix as he took another large bite from his swiftly-diminishing food.

[lookatmybadge]

As soon as Phoenix's eyes fell onto Edgeworth, he had an unusual... craving to be near him. He shrugged it off easily enough, and instead decided to concentrate on Javert and that can. He smiled weakly at his words and began placing items in the other bags, attempting to weigh them out so that there wouldn't be any more splitting incidents on his way home.

"Heh, thanks. I guess I know better than to use paper. I'd probably be better off bringing my own bags next time," he reached out and took the can, his eyes already searching for a place to place the can within his bag. Soon, though, he stood, letting the bags sit on the floor whilst he surveyed Javert.

"What are you doing all the way out here, anyway?"

[chose_death]

"Admiring the view."

Javert drew himself up to his full height, his free arm placed at his back, resting against the parapet of the bridge. His stout cane was left alone against the rail beside him. With a raised brow, he tapped upon the bread in his hand.

"I take my lunch while on patrol, Wright," he followed up dryly. "This is a part of my route." And again, his gaze was drawn to the bread arcing off the top of Phoenix's groceries, his expression flat and uninviting. He was already aware of Edgeworth's approach and would greet him in due time. Perhaps the two men would head off on their own social escapades to leave Javert to his own devices.

"Do you intend to host a feast?"

[lookatmybadge]

Phoenix had noticed the way in which Javert's gaze almost constantly wandered towards his bread, and his manners outweighed all else-- he reached forward and placed a hand on top of it, and looked at the man as though inviting him to try some.

"You probably get hungry out here in the cold," he added with a small smile, breaking a piece off for Javert. It wasn't as though he and Trucy could eat the whole thing by themselves anyway. As Javert's conversation continued he laughed softly and shook his head with a quiet 'no'.

"We don't have much food at home," he continued thoughtfully-- but his train of conversation was quickly lost when Edgeworth announced his presence, and Phoenix found that he had a strange incline to inch closer to the man. He ignored for the most part, excluding the enthusiastic smile and wave to greet his best friend. "Hey, Edgeworth. I was just thinking of you," it wasn't a lie.

He'd been thinking of the man on and off for most of the day-- no matter how he tried to push his mind away from it. Grocery shopping was meant to be a distraction, but it did little to pull his thoughts away. On some level he knew it was odd, but on a more conscious one he explained it away as worry for his friend. It didn't get rid of the unsure feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he only felt it when he concentrated-- and now his attention was positively taken by Edgeworth and his story.

"This was the quickest route home," Phoenix admitted, almost in awe of his friends quick thinking and ideas of safety. "I hadn't even thought of preference..."

He was clearly inferior.

[chose_death]

Javert's face twisted in sour revulsion when Phoenix tore off a segment of bread, and he gave a rigid shake of his head. The thought of charity appalled him. Inspector Javert did not earn or buy that bread on his own. To rely on Phoenix's gift for a meal was ludicrous, even abhorrent. Javert was not a kind man, and he did not expect nor want to become the unjust recipient of kindness from others. Valjean's sickening displays of kindness were quite enough for an officer like Javert to handle for a lifetime. He desired to experience no more of it and had full intentions of refusing Phoenix's offer.

But the Inspector found that his hands were moving of their own accord. Before he knew it, he had the new piece of bread in his hand, and his lips were pressed into a furious, thin line.

What the devil had compelled him to take it? It was as if he had no control over his actions, like someone else had grasped the wheel and steered the ship of his limbs to accept all that was offered. He knew he ought to rid himself of the gift swiftly. He didn't need more bread! He already ate nearly an entire loaf, and oftentimes his meals consisted of little more than thin broth and a single slice of bread.

Instead, he dropped the 'second meal' into one of his massive pockets without so much as a wink of internal conflict. The look on his face twisted into an absurd, disgusted scowl. The allure of the frigid river was growing more appealing by the second.

As Edgeworth approached in the midst of his silent self-berating, Javert suppressed a sigh and respectfully bowed to his superior with a murmured greeting.

"Apparently, what brings me here every day, Monsieur."

Javert was referring to his patrol route, of course. At the sound of paperwork, he straightened to his usual impeccable military posture, but today it seemed even stiffer than usual, almost weary or mechanical.

"You have seen Wright's work, then?" uttered Javert through his teeth. It was to the Death List that the Inspector was referring, double-checked with neatness and accuracy by the head of the Service himself.

[lookatmybadge]

The facial expression Javert gave him caused Phoenix to smile weakly in return. The scathing look wasn't lost on him, but then he could hardly withdraw an offer-- especially when the man reached out and took the bread. Phoenix was, for the most part, confused. Javert was sending horribly mixed signals-- but it was only when he decided to place his shopping back down that his mind clicked onto something that had been bugging him ever since he had met the Inspector. The sound of the crashing waves however many feet below them seemed to jog his memory almost painfully, and he looked between Javert and the bridge for a good minute. Edgeworth's words went mostly unheard (he mumbled a bizarre reply that contradicted everything to Edgeworth's question-- "no, they all seemed happy") as his brain clicked the obvious facts into place right before his eyes, and he all but jumped forward when the conclusion practically slapped him in the face.

"JA-JAVERT!" He said suddenly, looking at Edgeworth with a heightened sense of awareness. Of course! He was from Les Mis! Phoenix had studied that book relentlessly during his college years-- he knew it from top to bottom and yet it took him so long to see what was staring him in the face all that time. But that wasn't the only thing that suddenly clicked:

Javert + bridge = BAD.

He jumped again, a very nervous laughter sounding out as he quickly shoved the shopping into Edgeworth's arms and yanked onto Javert's elbow. "It's getting cold out here, don't you think? Let's go back to my place for some dinner. Hahaha." He tried to smile a reassuring smile and tugged them both along side him.

He would not take no for an answer.

[chose_death]

Javert was the very picture of weary, aloof composure until Phoenix made his awkward outburst. There was a near-imperceptible widening of his eye, his lip peeling back in a silent snarl.

He jerked firmly away from Wright's touch. He removed the other man's hand from his elbow and pushed it away. He quickly crossed his arms over that spot on his elbow as if he'd been seared through his overcoat. The Inspector rocked back half a step, his back lightly grazing the parapet. And he steeled himself, his gaze plunging into Phoenix's infuriatingly reassuring eyes, then Edgeworth's unreadable gaze, then returning to Phoenix's once more.

A shadow of realization flickered on his face.

Javert smiled a smile so disdainful, so energetic and yet so downright ironic that few could match its power to unsettle. He uttered a silent, dry laughter and flashed all of his teeth and a lot of gum.

"I see what it is!"

He gave another one of his rare chuckles, bent down and grasped his nightstick in his hand. Whatever was remaining of his loaf of bread, he tore off a single piece and popped it into his mouth. It provided him little comfort in this insufferable situation, though he seemed perfectly calm, resolute and strangely unfettered.

"Wright, if I am to have no choice, you had best be serving that bread at your table. I require little else."

Javert tucked the nightstick under his arm and straightened, his gaze once again passing over Edgeworth's. Was this the prosecutor's way of keeping an eye on him? Of all the damnable... The river would have to wait until past nightfall.

"Well! Let's be off."

[lookatmybadge]

Unsettled-- that was an understatement. Phoenix awkwardly inched away from the apparently angered Javert, his gaze quickly shifting towards Edgeworth's mostly unimpressed one. He attempted a smile-- though his expression quickly changed into one of mild confusion.

Javert must have caught on-- at least, he must have realized that Phoenix meant well, though his attitude was still somewhat frightening. He lingered there a moment, his eyes now squarely on the towering man before he finally nods and let's out another nervous giggle. "R-right, sounds good," he said absently, his voice soon cut across by Edgeworth's.

His eyebrows furrowed together in thought, a hand quickly reaching out to state something-- or perhaps to grab a hold of Edgeworth's arm. Whatever it was about to do, it faltered and his hand, instead, formed a point. "You're coming too," he said quickly, giving him a defiant raised eyebrow in return to that glare. He eventually scooped the bags into his arms and smiled a lopsided, almost pleading smile.

"Besides, I have more than enough food here for everyone. Bread included," There was a quick, wary side-glance towards Javert before he continued, "and you haven't visited for ages. Come on, Edgeworth." If his words weren't convincing enough, Phoenix's big, blue and very imploring eyes certainly were.

"It might be fun. I've been feeling pretty lonely recently, anyway."

Lonely for Edgeworth, at least-- although having said that, he was pleased Javert truly was joining him for dinner. He hadn't had a chance to see the man unwind, if he did at all (and something told him he didn't).

[chose_death]

Edgeworth's intentions or not, a change had overcome the Inspector. At the bridge he may have seemed weary and somewhat morose. Now that he was prepared to leave for a dinner party, he had straightened and carried himself with his usual calm confidence. The occasional anxious glance to the river betrayed that confidence.

"Yes, of course, Monsieur," murmured Javert. He was never even a minute late to work every morning, so Edgeworth's reminder was, suffice to say, superfluous. He nodded to Phoenix distractedly; he had no idea where the young lawyer resided, otherwise he would not have waited around for long.

"I'll presume you have nothing extravagant planned. At your lead, Wright."

[lookatmybadge]

"I'm afraid not," he said honestly with a small, sheepish shrug of his shoulders. He meant well, at least-- and whilst it might not be the fanciest of events, he hoped it would prove fun. Finally, once he had Edgeworth's confirmation, he began to walk towards his apartment, hopefully with the two men in tow.

"I didn't know it was happening before now," he replied quickly with a grin. "It's a deal."

Phoenix was genuinely looking forward to their evening-- he was even smiling as he lead the way. He looked slightly strange, considering he now had all his bags of shopping in his arms, but at least he was as enthusiastic as he always was.

"What do you guys like to eat?" Did they like chicken? Phoenix had chicken!

Hours later...

[chose_death]

Javert was glaring sourly into his plate of chicken.

The scene was as thus: Phoenix and Edgeworth were seated rather near to one another. Edgeworth was gallivanting at the mouth about one escapade in court or another, while Phoenix leaned closer and closer to his old friend with every word in starry-eyed admiration. Now and again Phoenix Wright would turn to Javert, who claimed his own solitary corner of the dinner table, and offer an awkward word or two of inclusion. Javert, his coat and hat left hanging in Phoenix's closet, would glower, though the absence of that extra bulk reduced the impact of his intimidation by a small amount. In sum, there was Edgeworth, the diva, Wright, the groupie, and Javert, the unwanted extra toe.

If he hadn't have been torn from that bridge, he might have drifted to the bottom of the river by now.

Javert was glaring down at his full place of chicken for one reason only: he clearly recalled informing Wright that all he would need was bread to get him by. Instead of adhering to this request, the man had insisted upon filling his plate with morsel after morsel, from a full breast of chicken to some unidentifiable, watery, flaccid vegetables. And all this, he had accomplished with an awkward, crooked smile and an apologetic light in his eye.

None of that meal looked appetizing.

Javert ignored the plate in favor of nibbling languidly on his swiftly-diminishing baguette, granting himself only the occasional sip of cheap red wine Phoenix had poured for him.

"You have outdone yourself, Wright," murmured Javert dryly. And from the tone of his voice, he meant it. "What else have you tucked away in that kitchen? I do not recall requesting King's Cake."