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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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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