Inspector Javert (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greatestdetectiveaward) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-02-07 07:40 pm
greatestdetectiveaward) wrote in thecapitol2013-02-07 07:40 pm
Entry tags:
Courage and Belief Are My Redeemers [Open]
Who| Javert, open
What| Javert faces his greatest foe yet. Sorry 'bout it, Maximus.
Where| District 3 Suite
When| Week 3
Warnings| None.
Someone had explained it to Javert. It took them quite a while, but they managed to condense three hundred years of history, technological development, cultural shifts and revolutions into a package he could use as a foundation for understanding the rest of this strange new world. He thanked them, and then he spent a good deal of time in his designated quarters, mulling it over by staring into space with an intent, hawklike expression.
At first, they tried to explain it to him as entertainment. When he protested that, claiming he was unfit for this sort of game, they told him it was a way of keeping the masses from revolting. He found that more palatable, and while he was always a lawman firstly and not a soldier, at the very least it's a role he's familiar with. He can still bind himself to the rules of duty, of serving and protecting society. Coming back to a way to order his world after the chaos of the arena is like a child returning to a warm, comforting mother's embrace after being lost in the snow.
It's a strange mechanism, these Games, but it's not his place to secondguess the powers that be. If it works at keeping people in line and minimizing sin and crime, it's legitimate. He can devote himself to self-sacrifice as a means of entertainment if it furthers those goals.
His suite baffles him. Once it's empty and he's done reflecting - not something he enjoys on the best of days, but especially not when his mind seems filled with the memory of his own demise - he sets about exploring it. He's heard there's an unmarried woman living here with himself and two other men, which he finds most distasteful, but as of yet he hasn't seen her and is somewhat glad of that fact.
He recognizes it as a marvel of architecture that there appear to be private pumps for clean (heated, even!) water throughout the flat, but other curiosities of the suite are beyond his ken. He can't figure out how to dim the lamps, for one, or what the strange metal box in the kitchen is. He prods at it.
As such, he's currently in the District 3 suite looking rather startled as the little metal box lights up and makes a whirring noise, and as the glass plate inside begins to rotate.
What| Javert faces his greatest foe yet. Sorry 'bout it, Maximus.
Where| District 3 Suite
When| Week 3
Warnings| None.
Someone had explained it to Javert. It took them quite a while, but they managed to condense three hundred years of history, technological development, cultural shifts and revolutions into a package he could use as a foundation for understanding the rest of this strange new world. He thanked them, and then he spent a good deal of time in his designated quarters, mulling it over by staring into space with an intent, hawklike expression.
At first, they tried to explain it to him as entertainment. When he protested that, claiming he was unfit for this sort of game, they told him it was a way of keeping the masses from revolting. He found that more palatable, and while he was always a lawman firstly and not a soldier, at the very least it's a role he's familiar with. He can still bind himself to the rules of duty, of serving and protecting society. Coming back to a way to order his world after the chaos of the arena is like a child returning to a warm, comforting mother's embrace after being lost in the snow.
It's a strange mechanism, these Games, but it's not his place to secondguess the powers that be. If it works at keeping people in line and minimizing sin and crime, it's legitimate. He can devote himself to self-sacrifice as a means of entertainment if it furthers those goals.
His suite baffles him. Once it's empty and he's done reflecting - not something he enjoys on the best of days, but especially not when his mind seems filled with the memory of his own demise - he sets about exploring it. He's heard there's an unmarried woman living here with himself and two other men, which he finds most distasteful, but as of yet he hasn't seen her and is somewhat glad of that fact.
He recognizes it as a marvel of architecture that there appear to be private pumps for clean (heated, even!) water throughout the flat, but other curiosities of the suite are beyond his ken. He can't figure out how to dim the lamps, for one, or what the strange metal box in the kitchen is. He prods at it.
As such, he's currently in the District 3 suite looking rather startled as the little metal box lights up and makes a whirring noise, and as the glass plate inside begins to rotate.
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So, she wasn't feeling like her normal, bubbly self, but that was no reason to let it show, so she let herself in to the District 3 suite's with a smile on her face and called out a, "Hello, my dearies!" as she entered.
And then she stopped, spotting one of her newest, a lovely fellow she hasn't even gotten her hands on yet, staring...at a microwave?
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"Good afternoon, Madame." He keeps an eye on the microwave as if it's a wild animal that may leap forth and bite him. He wants to ask if this is typical of these boxes, but since she appears to be staring at him without a trace of true panic in her face, he decides that it's likely not dangerous for the little plate to spin around and the box to hum.
He holds a hand out, where once he might have displayed a badge instead. "I am Javert. I've been assigned to the room right over there." He gestures.
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He wants to return to his uniform, if he has to be present in public, but he knows he's disgraced it. And furthermore, none of the clothing here is familiar (the undergarments, especially). Even now, the briefs and slacks and button-down shirt he was revived in don't seem familiar to him.
"You say you're assigned to me? I won't impede your work, then, Madame Rushlit. What do you suggest I wear?"
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oh Valeria's just going to love Maximus
i'm sure he's going to be just lovely about it
"You are allowed to request whatever you want for wearing just out and about, if what's available doesn't suit you," she pointed out, moving forward to, essentially, feel up Javert's biceps. For research purposes of course. "Although why you'd want to wear a uniform by choice is beyond me."
Re: i'm sure he's going to be just lovely about it
Well, he supposes he doesn't really know what is or isn't appropriate. Valeria may be painted up like a common trollop but she is, apparently, what is counted as a professional in this world, and he would do well to follow her advice.
"I didn't mean a uniform, but something orderly, if possible. Nothing too extravagant or flamboyant."
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She's joking, mostly. She's only going to be seeing him naked on a regular basis later on, after all, no big deal. "Extravagant and flamboyant are rather my calling cards, but I think I can whip something more subdued for when you're not onstage."
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"Onstage? Do you mean in the games themselves?" He hopes she's not mistaking him for an actor. He's always found those sorts of pursuits rather foolish, and spares little pity on actors who find themselves begging for a sous, as if entertainment could feed a family.
Then again, he supposes here it just might. "Is wearing your extravagant and flamboyant clothing part of my duty here?"
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"Unfortunately I don't have much say for what you get in the Arena. Mostly I get you boys--and Eponine, when I can catch the girl--suited up for interviews, parties, any sort of structured public appearances." She grinned at him, enjoying his phrasing. "Yes, it is indeed. In the Capitol making sure you're seen and noticed is my job. The Mentors keep you alive and the Escorts get you Sponsored, but I'm who makes people remember you." That's oversimplifying and everyone's jobs tend to overlap, but it gets the point across.
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"I wasn't aware we'd be doing public appearances. I'm afraid I'm not very comfortable as a public speaker." He'll do it if he has to, but especially in this foreign nation, he doesn't place much confidence in his ability to do it well. "What benefit is it to me if I'm remembered? Does it dissuade violence in the District I represent?"
Because the way it was explained to him before, the games are there to keep people happy and entertained, complacent, unresisting. He doesn't see how this will accomplish those ends.
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She thought over his question about the District briefly, the thought never having occurred to her. "I'm sure they enjoy seeing who represents them, yes, especially since they've never met any of you in the new Quell. But mostly you want to be noticed by Sponsors, people who can send you things in the Arena to help, because they like you. My clothes will help with that."
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Still, even frilly conversation can be good for finding out information? "So you are a specialist tailor. Why did you choose this line of work?"
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She grinned at him. "We're supposed to use the District's as inspiration, and that's what 3 does--electronics. When I say I'm going to make you shine, dearie, I mean it."
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"Pardon me, but..." Javert feels very silly asking this, but he supposes he should swallow his pride and get it out of the way before he makes a fool of himself later. "What is electricity and electronics?"
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"Um," she said finally, eloquently. She'd heard that some of the Districts were really very primitive but to imagine a place where there was simply no electricity at all...Valeria couldn't comprehend.
"That's a very complicated question," she said weakly, after another long period of thought. "I mean, basically, electricity is power and electronics use that power to...do whatever they do. That's it...basically."
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"We have lightning in the sky, but that sort of electricity doesn't seem to be the type here. I assume they are different things with the same name." he shakes his head and folds his hands behind his back, looking back at that weird beeping box. "I'm afraid that hasn't been enough of an explanation of an 'electronic'...basically."
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He pauses. "Are there any more measurements you wish to take?"
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She looked him over once more. "Oh, certainly. But not here. You'll meet with my team and they'll do the more intimate measurements, just to make sure everything matches up with the information we were given. And then we'll start working out your Style, of course."
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And he blinks. "More...intimate measurements?"
And what information where they given?
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