Javert ✍ 002

[chose_death]

Who: Javert, Edgeworth and the Police Force Interviewees - Anyone who feels like playing this out. Pretty much everyone is in, so no worries.
Where: Government District Courthouse
Style: Third preferred, but I like first too. I just tend to tl;dr with Javert.
Status: OPEN LIKE THE WIND. Don't feel pressured to wait for Akihiko to go first - anyone

Comments

[rise_to_caesar]

With his jacket slung over his shoulder, Akihiko looks to the doors of the courthouse. This is where the police force was going to be having its try-outs, wasn't it? He pulls his Dreamberry out to look at the time; he's a few minutes early still. Mitsuru would probably praise him for being prompt at least.

He approaches the heavy doors and pushes them open, stepping into the building.

"Hello?"

[chose_death]

Silence.

The court house was dead. No one spoke in response. However, there was a single light on in a small room toward the back. There was also a sign posted near the entrance in impeccably neat handwriting:

Police-Agent Interest
Fourth door to the right

Javert, in his office, may have heard Akihiko. The corner of his mouth tightened, his brow furrowing just slightly. And yet, he maintained a profoundly puzzled and thoughtful expression, glancing up only occasionally toward the door.

And then, all at once, his reverie was broken, and his pen squeaked across his paper once more.

Fitness Interview the First
Akihiko Sanada

The applicant should find his way with no trouble. The path was clearly labeled, after all.

[chose_death]

[Javert does not look up from his notes at the sound of the knock. He merely readjusts his fountain pen and sees to his writing. There's a few long, silent moments before he responds at all.

Until finally, he raises his voice and commands in an imperious tone,]

Enter!

[chose_death]

[In strict, neat penmanship, Raidou might be able to glimpse his own name on Javert's notes. However, the remaining phrases were written entirely in French, and unless Raidou was fluent in the language he would be hard-pressed to understand its written form. Through his teeth, Javert murmured without glancing up,]

The other Oriental.

[There was, perhaps, a nearly imperceptible flick of his pen toward the empty seat in front of his desk.]

Your seat.

[And once he dotted his final 'i' and crossed his last 't,' he placed his pen down and shifted his clear, intense, grey gaze to Raidou with a military posture. It was as if the young man were being examined under a microscope, such was that scrutiny.

Javert waited.]

[usas_aurora]

Jinana was curious. A little worried too, but at this point it was mostly curiosity. This was the first time she's heard about laws or authority since arriving in this place, and given her history she has a right to be.

While the concept of 'police' was new to her, the desire for order was not and she understood the need for laws. That is, as long as the laws were just and a reason for existing. Devour your enemies... That was the first time she'd ever willfully disobeyed a law of the temple. The first time the thought had ever crossed her mind.

Those thoughts brought her there, to meet this man who spoke of law and authority. Here there was no temple, no Dissemination Machine to answer questions. Just a man. As fallible as any of them.

She was also clueless when it came to the procedure of the situation, simply appearing unannounced as she would have at the Karma Temple, arms folded with eyes narrowed.

[chose_death]

Javert was busy wrapping up the notes to his previous interview, Raidou Kuzunoha, when the woman entered. He hardly afforded her a glance at first, instead busying himself with neatening up his writing, carefully labeling each segment in tight, deliberate French. He also took a moment to glance at his pocket watch, which he placed beside his notes atop the sparse desk.

It was clearly before 10 o'clock in the a.m. That meant his next interviewee was rather overeager, or this individual was not here for an interview.

And so, without looking up, he demands tersely in a distracted tone,

"Who are you?"

Then Javert looks up.

... His eyebrow flies up soon afterwards, but otherwise, there is very little change in his cold, dour expression. Not even the whores dressed so provocatively, to say the least.

That begged the question of what sort of place this woman had come from, of course.

[usas_aurora]

"I am Jinana of the Maribel Tribe." She replied, meeting his dour expression with one of her own, though she was less inclined to understand his apparent curiosity. Surprisingly enough, no one had ever pointed out that her attire could have signified something more then a means to cover parts of her body.

In any event, she didn't carry herself like a whore. She had an air of dominance and command about her, even though her life felt like it's spiraled too far out of her control. "We spoke over the Dreamberry about your Police."

[shouharekkousen]

Asch arrived just before ten, as he had been told, and quickly located the room after following the signage. Once there he knocked firmly on the door, then waited patiently for an answer.

[chose_death]

Aha! Now that should be Javert's third interview. It's closer to time, only about two minutes before the hour. He gave a low snort through his nose and lifted his head to the door.

"Enter!"

[shouharekkousen]

Asch entered when he was told, coming to a stop and standing at attention in front of the man's desk. Being an Oracle Knight since the age of ten had made such things second nature to him, and he felt far more comfortable treating this as a military meeting. He waited again for the man to speak, not knowing what was expected at something like this.

[chose_death]

Javert gave a near-imperceptible twitch of his eyebrow in intrigue. This man - Asch, he noted to himself with a quick glance to his notes - was as he said: a soldier, a member of the military. Javert's own military, stiff-backed posture was a testament to his appreciation of soldierly discipline. His gaze followed Asch's movements, and after several moments of scrutinizing silence, he juts his chin toward the empty seat in front of his sparse desk, urging the young man to sit.

"Speak." He set the point of his pen atop his paper. "I will hear you out first."

[honor_tactics]

Gale found the office easily enough, pausing to knock on the door as he did at Naomi's residence. It still felt right to do so, at least with strangers. Perhaps it was the "proper" thing to do. He still wasn't entirely sure.

[chose_death]

Javert again checked his pocket watch. It was an appropriate time for another interview, and if he suspected correctly, it was the other ignorant one he had spoken briefly to through his device. Parbleu - he will be an interesting sort to maneuver. Certainly, the interested applicant would likely have a place in the service, but it will be a task to teach him.

"Come!" Javert called to the door, setting his pen aside and lifting his head to watch.

[honor_tactics]

He entered quietly, closing the door behind him. For the moment he remained silent. Gale's eyes met the other man's, performing brief observation.

A serious man...the lines in his face told that he was not one to laugh. Nor was he one to have much patience. There was honor in his eyes, but also something...dark.

"My name is Gale, of the Embryon Tribe. I believe we spoke earlier."

[chose_death]

Javert was a strict man. He held others to high standards, but he held it to himself to achieve an even higher level of polish, respect and honesty than others. The deep lines in his brow and about his mouth spoke of a trying, hardworking life - and death. Javert was surely an honest man and it shone through his cold grey eyes, but whether that qualified as honorable was another question.

"You are the fifth to stand there," uttered Javert in an imperious, authoritative tone. At least he had managed to rid himself of most of his counterproductive thoughts earlier in the morning. He stayed well on track through most of the day's interviews with little deviation.

Javert's eyes bored at - through - Gale, perhaps rivaling the Embryon strategist's own penetrating and discomfiting gaze. By now Javert did not need to bat an eyelash at unusual clothes or strange hair. It had already become commonplace in his mind