Who: Daniella, her victim, the witnesses, and police. Where: A near empty street in Somni Style: First Status: Open to the Police. If anyone else wants to to join in, PM me first! Warnings: Murder and Gore
[And so without a single word of complaint, Naomi Javert waits for her husband's hopefully quick return, an unreadable expression on her face.
It's hard for even the woman to know what she's feeling as Javert tenderly showed her some rare affection before immediately running off, but she is saving her judgment for his return. Hopefully it won't be too long of a wait. This date is important.]
[Javert is out of sight for about thirty seconds. When he reemerges, he has his Dreamberry cradled between his ear and his shoulder, and he is busily wiping his hands on his pocket kerchief. His deep, rolling, accented voice drifts toward her table, adjusted to as quiet but authoritative a tone as possible.]
At sixteenth and spruce. Do you got it? District Two. Quickly! Before someone less experienced in the matter trips over her!
[He tosses the phone down at his place on the table and resumes his seat. He looks noticeably grimmer, the kerchief flashing red stains, absently rubbing the residue off his grimed fingers. He is quickly losing himself to his thoughts, eyes bouncing along some invisible manuscript in front of his nose.]
[That isn't the kind of return she expected to see at all. Dark eyes drawn immediately to the vivid red being meticulously wiped from his long fingers, Naomi finally forces her concerned gaze back up to his grim face.]
[It is his automatic response. Javert does not even glance at the other patrons in the cafe. Clearly he wants to keep this as secret and low-key as he can manage before the men he called arrive. His pupils appear to shrink before Naomi's eyes, and he looks steadily at Naomi.]
I am very sorry. I will tell you why.
[A simple, but extremely naked apology. Date's good as over, Naomi.]
Don't get up. Stay here with me. You must trust my word. [He looks down at the kerchief in his hands, repulsed, and folds up the bloody smears within itself. Back into his pocket it goes.]
There is another girl lying at the end of this alley here.
[It's a show of just how well the man knows his wife that he orders her to stay seated. Immediately at the first hint of an apology, Naomi stiffens uncharacteristically, expression darkening all at once. Temper already flaring up beyond his control, the petite woman glares threateningly across the table at the overworked and exhausted Chief Inspector.
She can guess where all of this is going.]
Let your men handle it. [She isn't sounding nearly as calm or quiet as he is.] People are hurt every single day in this city. You don't need to be there for each and every case.
I don't, and I'm not. I cannot split myself into twenty different places.
[That is not to say Javert can duck out of the most high-profile cases. He does have an unusually high case load of high-stakes crimes, a testament to his skill and diligence in handling them.
Javert regards her very seriously, his face unreadable. He is attempting to gauge his wife, knowing that she will be less than pleased to be put on hold but seeing little suitable alternative with this new development. He has a committment to his duty. Besides, there is something very familiar about that dead girl he found...
He explains hurriedly, detached, with waning patience through closed teeth,]
This is how it is: she is killed in a manner the same as Mademoiselle Prosecutor's. Why, by all means! I can let my men handle it when they arrive, but then I am negligent! They will ask me what I was doing, why I had not performed my duties! That is a dirty use of my authority, Naomi. I won't have that. I can't
( ... )
[That was that and whatever else Naomi had to say counted for nothing. The dedicated Chief Inspector would uphold his highly respected job at all costs, even if it was to his own wife's immense displeasure and there was little else to be done
( ... )
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It's hard for even the woman to know what she's feeling as Javert tenderly showed her some rare affection before immediately running off, but she is saving her judgment for his return. Hopefully it won't be too long of a wait. This date is important.]
Reply
At sixteenth and spruce. Do you got it? District Two. Quickly! Before someone less experienced in the matter trips over her!
[He tosses the phone down at his place on the table and resumes his seat. He looks noticeably grimmer, the kerchief flashing red stains, absently rubbing the residue off his grimed fingers. He is quickly losing himself to his thoughts, eyes bouncing along some invisible manuscript in front of his nose.]
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What is it? What's going on?
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[It is his automatic response. Javert does not even glance at the other patrons in the cafe. Clearly he wants to keep this as secret and low-key as he can manage before the men he called arrive. His pupils appear to shrink before Naomi's eyes, and he looks steadily at Naomi.]
I am very sorry. I will tell you why.
[A simple, but extremely naked apology. Date's good as over, Naomi.]
Don't get up. Stay here with me. You must trust my word. [He looks down at the kerchief in his hands, repulsed, and folds up the bloody smears within itself. Back into his pocket it goes.]
There is another girl lying at the end of this alley here.
Reply
She can guess where all of this is going.]
Let your men handle it. [She isn't sounding nearly as calm or quiet as he is.] People are hurt every single day in this city. You don't need to be there for each and every case.
Reply
[That is not to say Javert can duck out of the most high-profile cases. He does have an unusually high case load of high-stakes crimes, a testament to his skill and diligence in handling them.
Javert regards her very seriously, his face unreadable. He is attempting to gauge his wife, knowing that she will be less than pleased to be put on hold but seeing little suitable alternative with this new development. He has a committment to his duty. Besides, there is something very familiar about that dead girl he found...
He explains hurriedly, detached, with waning patience through closed teeth,]
This is how it is: she is killed in a manner the same as Mademoiselle Prosecutor's. Why, by all means! I can let my men handle it when they arrive, but then I am negligent! They will ask me what I was doing, why I had not performed my duties! That is a dirty use of my authority, Naomi. I won't have that. I can't ( ... )
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