FRANZISKA VON KARMA ♦ [011] HAPPY HOLIDAYS POLICE TYPE PEOPLE

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Who: All of the Police Force and SWAT Team!
Where: Somni's courthouse
Style: First
Status: Open to the above

Comments

MINGLING!

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[Grab the woman's attention or enjoy talking amongst yourself, Officers.]

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[Inspector Javert previously RSVP'd to this police service celebration with both himself and his wife in attendance. Why is it, then, that Javert could be spotted directing venue security in a small, dim group in the corner with a fierce and gloomy expression, his pretty and petite wife nowhere to be found? Javert at work may be a common and rather in-character sight, but it is very strange indeed for him to show up at a social event going stag. Naomi is a rather social creature who flourishes under the appreciative and jealous attentions of a crowd. And judging by the harsher-than-usual look and aura about the Inspector, perhaps some of the attendees may have some whispered theories about a domestic row or trouble in the home.

Either way, Javert is hard at work at this Christmas event, one of a handful of individuals who is dressed immaculately and appropriately in a pristine suit, but there for business and not for play. Where could the missus be? Perhaps a brave soul could offer a few drinks to loosen his tongue.]

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[Franziska doesn't approach the man she so loathes (Christmas cheer doesn't have that great an effect on her character..), but she does rather gleefully notice Javert's unhappiness and lack of a date.

Merry Christmas to her!]

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[With the snappy conversation about venue security finished and his assembled men already dispersed, Inspector Javert takes to surveying the room with a fierce grimace at his lip and his arms folded tight as a vice across his chest. He did not help himself to any food nor drink, instead occupying himself with sweeping his hawkish eyes to each of the dark corners and each of the entrances, carefully observing and memorizing every face, movement, and body that enters the hall. It is those men and women that he does not recognize as a direct member of the police service that he pays considerable attention to. No citizen shall escape the Inspector's scrutiny that night. There will be no murders plopped into the police's lap tonight.

It is in this stance that Snake discovers Javert when he arrives, approaching the unapproachable with a glass of bubbly in his hand. The Inspector appraises Snake a severe look, as if he were mentally chiding the SWAT officer for bringing a toothpick to a pistol fight. His brow lowers.]What do you want, David

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Drinking on the job is drinking on the job, [says a prickly Javert.] One bee does not do much damage, either. But the rest of the hive is never far.

[Still, with a craggy and hooded frown, he unfurls one fist to accept the glass. He holds it with little aim, staring piercingly through Snake's skull. My, he is quite on his guard today, isn't he?]

I am afraid the pedestal is toward the front. Not tucked in this corner. You are welcome to step up and take it for a cheer.

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[Javert is nonplussed, a suggestive eyebrow jutting upwards and disappearing beneath his bangs. You were the one to suggest a toast, Snake, and Javert certainly does not intend to step up to the podium to initiate it. Suit yourself.

He gives a perceptible twitch at the mention of Naomi's name and blinks as if Snake had shined a painfully bright spotlight in his face. Rather than confirm or deny Snake's accusation of sorts. He says simply,]

She isn't coming.

I ALWAYS HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL LIKE 1:30pm for LJ to work right

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What do you know of it?

[Javert's stare is positively withering. He absently swirls the glass in his hand in a circle, akin to any of the greatest villains in a 1960s spy thriller. His nostrils flare, but he does not give more than an inch. Something is clearly amiss, but whether it is indicative of an imminent divorce or something else is a mystery. Worry lines mar the crevice between his brows. His quaking pupils bespoke of a quashed anxiety.]

She will stay at home tonight. Don't expect to see her soon.

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No, [Javert mutters impertinently into his still-full champagne glass. He briefly turns his back on Snake to set the glass on the nearby food table. He is not intending on taking even a single sip.] You would not know. She is a private woman, and it is a private matter, all things considered. It is just like her to keep it close to the breast, the Devil with her!

[Javert turns back to Snake, arms akimbo and eyes narrowed unreadably.]

Have you received your year-end bonus yet?

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[Something changes.

The Inspector makes no sudden movement. There is no discernable lean, no twitch, no fierce change in expression. But a chill and a shudder descends upon him, and a wintry frost nips at Snake's nose.

If Snake thought Javert was being difficult simply to be difficult, he was sorely mistaken. There is a serious problem in the home of some kind.]

No, you will not, [Javert warns coldly and solemnly.] You won't disturb her. She will be left alone until she is ready. She won't take visitors. [He barks something between a crisp, cold scoff and a dry chortle.] If she does not want to see me, she won't take anyone else.

[dedikayted]

[And this is Kay, stepping into the courthouse and just looking very excited in general. Her excitement and the fact that she's a hyper seventeen-year-old self-proclaimed thief make her stand out in this crowd.

...and that giant key in her hair is always hard to miss.]