Considering several games on my list???

[inseine]

Your antics annoy me.

Take the past week. [He counts off each point on his fingers, his tone calm, cold, and bored. There is no real anger behind his words.] The first day, I am bound to a post like a wrangled goat with no recent memories. The next? Confined to a metal vessel careening through the stars. On still other days, I chat with not one but two persistent and familiar gentlemen wearing my name. Let us not talk about the wet event.

Apparently, consistency and continuity became a scarce luxury. Consider planting me somewhere so I may experience traumas in a linear fashion. It is nicer that way. And more logical, despite the senselessness that follows. I can manage that.

Comments

[waywardswords]

It's always going to turn out senseless one way or the other. Might as well get used to it.

[inseine]

[Huff. Oh, he is accustomed to senselessness, no worries about that.]

Yet a dash of organization to the nonsense would do wonders. An imitation of sanity, at its barest.

[waywardswords]

Yeah well good luck with that. In my experience, muns don't like organization so much as pure mind-fuck.

[Like letting him get lost everywhere. What the hell is up with that?]

[inseine]

Counting on luck is certain to end in a sudden cliff at the end of the street. Your woman knows pre-cise-ly what she is doing. I am sure of it. Laughing for a time during this 'pure mind-fuck.' [Brow arch.] Twisted sadists. All of them.

[waywardswords]

Sometimes luck is all you have.

I'm sure she does, too. I'm okay with it for now but if I have to screw anyone weird I'm coming after her no matter what curlybrow says.

[inseine]

Sexual deviance, of course! And the ill-conceived romance! [Javert muses in a cry just shy of disdainful.] A favorite and rather silly diversion for all these young hussies.

[He rolls his eyes.]

They read far too many storybooks. It gives them ideas.

[to_be_free]

Are we fated to follow each other about, then? I did not think our fates were to be entwined so closely, Monsieur Inspecteur. [Don't mind him, he's just way too amused.]

[waywardswords]

[Well a little sexual deviance can be fun now and then. But he hates the fact that he has little say in it]

Romance is the worst.

I don't care what they read I wish they would leave us alone

[he says as he gently gropes Javert's nice tight ass]

SHIT!

Just choked on my own saliva fyi THANK YOU COME AGAIN

[inseine]

['nice' and 'tight' would be relative depending on how thin you like your fifty-two year old a-- let's not go there

Javert, at least, has the gall to cast a witheringly bored and weary expression on the green-haired fellow. His jaw palpably tightens.]

Well. [he says with a smack of his thin lips.] So that's the plan, is it. It should not surprise me. Considering the turn of this conversation.

[He scrutinizes Zorro with a swift once-over, memorizing every line, wrinkle, color, and well-worked muscle. It elicits a fierce grimace.]

I concede you are not the worst prospect I've witnessed. How old are you, boy?

[waywardswords]

DON'T ENCOURAGE IT! ARE YOU CRAZY!?

[and then his voice dips]

But I'm nineteen right now. Why, gonna arrest me?

[smir--


DAMNIT KNOCK IT OFF!

[madcuriosity]

Surely it cannot be all bad, inspector? You have such a severe way of looking upon things!

[inseine]

[CRAZIER THAN YOU KNOW, ZORRO don't believe that facade of detached and cold calmness]

Now, why the devil would I do that? It is sound, nineteen. You are the very picture of legal.

[Javert bends forward, dangerously close to Zorro's nose, close enough to see every twitch in his lip and nostrils. His eyes bore into the boy's like a lancet.]

Fight her, [he hisses sharply.] Can't you fend off one irritating woman? Control yourself!

[order_and_light]

[Don't mind the figure watching from a corner as one particular upstream thread proceeds, coat collar pulled up and hat pulled down as far as possible. Good God. Is there no end to what this place is capable of?]

[inseine]

Evidently.

[You. Again. Of course. His lower lip spasms with a disbelieving little snort.]

I understand that you are to blame for that.

[inseine]

[Ah. Dim recognition strikes from a past life. Javert makes a begrudging yet concerted effort to soften his grimace somewhat.

He almost succeeds. Almost.]

I will manage the senselessness, [he reiterates stubbornly.] It is the disorder that irritates me.

[to_be_free]

I? I had no idea I was a wanted criminal. What are my charges?

[antinouswild]

[For once in his life, a rare moment...

Enjolras laughs.]

[inseine]

[Javert furrows his brow deep enough to dig a trench between his brows. Otherwise, his expression remains calm and cold, though his scrutinizing gaze sharpens just a notch.

He makes an indecipherable gesture, beckoning him to say something.]

Well?

[inseine]

Your existence. Eliciting a desire for a 'cast' [his lips twist peculiarly at the word. Amused? It is impossible to judge,] from my woman.

[Aside from those other charges of insurgency and treason in France, rendered null and void upon Combeferre's early death.]

I have heard her call it a fantasy. Come true. [A beat.] I beg to differ.

[menticide]

Why settle for less?

Demand you're placed where luxury and power are an option. Why suffer any longer than you have to?

[inseine]

[Something strikes Javert as different about this one. The manner of speech, the sly phrases strung together summons an intuitive prick at the back of his neck.

Whatever it is about you, you have got his unwavering scrutiny, now.]

Really, [the word slips past his thin lips. A dearth of emotion, the cast of the bait.] I was unaware you were an expert in my personal suffering. A stranger, no less! I don't believe we have met.

And how will power and luxury remove it?

[to_be_free]

I would not consider an afterlife spent with you a 'dream come true', monsieur.

But my young lady does seem inclined to have you along, wherever I may travel to. She is quite determined, it is admirable.

[menticide]

Personal suffering? Let's not jump to conclusions. Think of it this way, you could:

A. Be strung up to a post or trapped in a tin can. Or

B. Retire in a luxurious flat with a beautiful view of the ocean.

The power comes from being in control of your own destiny... That is what you want, isn't it?

We haven't met. Not yet. In good time.

[inseine]

[Javert stares at Jim intently. This is a trap, isn't it? He smells a rat. Yet he presses onward, nonetheless.]

Then how do you suggest I get control? You have your own woman behind her iron curtain. Do not bother to tell me otherwise.

[antinouswild]

No. It's just that I know what games can be. I can think of no one more deserving.