Javert ✍ 013
Who: Inspector Javert and Naomi Hunter
Where: Naomi's Lab, District Five, Somni City
Style: Third
Status: Closed, lol.
Javert resolved to close the matter that night.
Considering his circumstance, he had waited rather patiently. At first, because he benefited from the space. Later on, it was to allow the opposing party the time to quit avoiding him. As a man intimately familiar with the benefits of avoiding one's irritations, he understood the need for a wide berth between them. But it was after some time of contemplation that he realized the avoidance was one to ignore her own shame, and not to avoid him in particular. Essentially she was avoiding an apology where an apology was owed.
The necessary apology and subsequent retribution was, actually, not something that remained on his mind for long in his thorough contemplations. The lesser issue was devoured by the maws of the greater. Javert did not care if she made weak excuses for her behavior that past weekend or not, for there was something else that eclipsed her faults. In fact, he might have been surprised by her stammering, if it came to that.
And besides, he might have left her to her own devices, and went about on his, if he had not felt a particular agitation about something he 'must' do, as some of his sergeants at the police department may have overheard him mumbling. For the entire first half of the week, Javert had withdrawn himself, remaining silent as the grave unless specifically addressed, only occasionally muttering wretched grievances about the joy and tumult of the autumn festival. He was thoroughly involved in something that would not leave him in peace. It may be said that Javert lived by the strictest principles, and with it came a perfectionist's dedication to honor and honesty. He was, indeed, an honorable man, and thus he carried out his duty and his life with enviable professionalism. He was a man who kept his fair share of secrets when he possessed the right, but he also knew when it would be appalling to remain silent about some faults in specific predicaments. This was one of these instances in question.
With a small stack of autumn tarts from the festival in one hand, him stuffing his mouth full like a chipmunk's with the other (ah, the consequences of consuming one breakfast early in the morning and pulling an entire 13 hour day on his feet with no lunch), Inspector Javert climbed the District Five lab's front stoop with no hesitation. He knew the woman in question would be in. He made some cursory inquiries into her whereabouts over the past four days, and from what he has heard, she has spoken and seen almost no one. Well, save for the dangerous Italian fellow she has become inexplicably fond of.
This made Javert frown.
He permitted himself a final bite of his current tart, tucked the rest in a plain brown bag, and raised his cudgel to rap sharply at the door.
Where: Naomi's Lab, District Five, Somni City
Style: Third
Status: Closed, lol.
Javert resolved to close the matter that night.
Considering his circumstance, he had waited rather patiently. At first, because he benefited from the space. Later on, it was to allow the opposing party the time to quit avoiding him. As a man intimately familiar with the benefits of avoiding one's irritations, he understood the need for a wide berth between them. But it was after some time of contemplation that he realized the avoidance was one to ignore her own shame, and not to avoid him in particular. Essentially she was avoiding an apology where an apology was owed.
The necessary apology and subsequent retribution was, actually, not something that remained on his mind for long in his thorough contemplations. The lesser issue was devoured by the maws of the greater. Javert did not care if she made weak excuses for her behavior that past weekend or not, for there was something else that eclipsed her faults. In fact, he might have been surprised by her stammering, if it came to that.
And besides, he might have left her to her own devices, and went about on his, if he had not felt a particular agitation about something he 'must' do, as some of his sergeants at the police department may have overheard him mumbling. For the entire first half of the week, Javert had withdrawn himself, remaining silent as the grave unless specifically addressed, only occasionally muttering wretched grievances about the joy and tumult of the autumn festival. He was thoroughly involved in something that would not leave him in peace. It may be said that Javert lived by the strictest principles, and with it came a perfectionist's dedication to honor and honesty. He was, indeed, an honorable man, and thus he carried out his duty and his life with enviable professionalism. He was a man who kept his fair share of secrets when he possessed the right, but he also knew when it would be appalling to remain silent about some faults in specific predicaments. This was one of these instances in question.
With a small stack of autumn tarts from the festival in one hand, him stuffing his mouth full like a chipmunk's with the other (ah, the consequences of consuming one breakfast early in the morning and pulling an entire 13 hour day on his feet with no lunch), Inspector Javert climbed the District Five lab's front stoop with no hesitation. He knew the woman in question would be in. He made some cursory inquiries into her whereabouts over the past four days, and from what he has heard, she has spoken and seen almost no one. Well, save for the dangerous Italian fellow she has become inexplicably fond of.
This made Javert frown.
He permitted himself a final bite of his current tart, tucked the rest in a plain brown bag, and raised his cudgel to rap sharply at the door.