Dream ✍ 003

[chose_death]

Warnings: Heavily implicated death. Spoilers for Les Misérables... If, you know, people are concerned with spoilers for 19th century lit.
Dream Effect: [OPTIONAL] Those who choose to feel it will get slammed in the face with a fluctuation of emotions as written. If you opt in for sensation, as well, stick to what's written - there will be a

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[selfishworld]

... You've died, too?

[chose_death]

[It is a moment before Javert answers the call. Recollecting onself after reliving one's own suicide in flashbacks takes its toll. By the time he opens communication, his voice is firm and dry.]

Evidently.

[selfishworld]

Mm.

[Thinks for a moment.]

It's... hard to go through. Harder for others to see.

[chose_death]

Then there is a simple solution to that, monsieur: Do not watch.

[mynameonhigh]

Such hard work rewarded with death, how sad, how truly sad..

[chose_death]

[Javert levels a firm, cold gaze on Beatrice, a single eyebrow arched skeptically. There is little in his flat expression to betray the burst of conflicting emotions he felt in his dream. His tone is indiscernible.]

Ah, don't be a silly girl. What little sadness you may have is misplaced.

[mynameonhigh]

[she only chuckles]
You'd hardly warrant such an emotion, detective.
Still, what a boring manner of dying.

[chose_death]

[dryly,] Then remind me to make it more spectacular the next time I get around to it. Would gunfire and explosions satisfy?

[unfearful]

[Dominic's silent for a moment, trying to understand what just went on. He saw it, yes, but the feeling--]

You...

[chose_death]

[Javert is none the wiser to the new 'surprise' Somarium placed in his particular dream. So, with forced patience after reliving such a significant moment in his past life, he meets this young man's gaze - Dominic - and grimaces. Good god, if that is pity in his eyes...]

What is it?

[unfearful]

[It isn't quite pity or sympathy. Right now, Dominic doesn't know how to feel. There's something he needs to confirm before he says anything else, anyway.]

... That was a memory?

[chose_death]

So. Of course most of you would wonder. I have heard it a common event, here.

[There's an odd tic in Javert's cheek, and briefly his gaze flickers skywards, but otherwise his expression is unchanging. He leans forward and rests his chin on the back of his massive hand.]

Yes. For the most part. Anything else?

[carpo_vita]

[I vaguely remember reading this book in my junior years. ...Is that really Jaberu-san I MEAN.

The feeling is intense, and while different, he can still relate. A man who wishes for the better of his country, of his world - maybe he's too young, and truly he can't grasp the concept of justice that this man knows, but...]

Do you really believe that this end is the right choice?

[chose_death]

It was the only reasonable option.

[A smattering of complete strangers. Javert can't say he's surprised, but it still puts a frown on his face.

But yes. It was a reasonable option in an unreasonable situation, as he saw it.]

I am not in the habit of wasting time mulling it over.

[carpo_vita]

[On one hand, Minato's a firm believer of life. If there's something you can still do, then it's worth every bit to live on. He knows the story well enough, however; the entire emphasis of Hugo's masterpiece is the idea of pitting the law of the state against the moral conscious of what is wrong and what is right. In the modern age, black and white just aren't that clear-cut anymore; it would actually be quite accurate to say that everything is mostly in gray. Back in Javert's time, however, he's quite aware of the fact that black and white were very distinct from one another. There WAS no room for gray, period.

So how can he express this? Their ideologies have a lag of several centuries. Still...]

Isn't that still running away, though? Do you really have no regrets, sir?

[chose_death]

It is the solution of a problem.

[Javert's voice is clipped and abrupt, reminiscent of an impatient businessman with a sharp, twanging accent. The quicker he answers these godforsaken questions... He certainly doesn't want any pity.]

Removing myself was neat, concise and direct. The business is finished.

1/2

[scientize]

[The dream begins normally enough as all dreams do, with the Inspector only spending his evening doing what he does best in Naomi's opinion--writing reports. Breathing a soft sigh, the scientist drops her chin into the palm of her hand as she continues to watch. Though she rarely made an effort to observe dreams in this place, Javert was one man she wanted to keep an eye on, for multiple reasons that she would share with no one.

It isn't until a few moments into it when the frail woman is suddenly hit by the rush of emotions and sensations emerging from the dream itself, as if she was there in the Inspector's place, back in his home world and on a bridge. Resoluteness, urgency, panic--she can barely get out a startled gasp at the sheer force of it attacking her before the asphyxiation sets in.

Dropping the device in her grip to the floor, her small hands quickly slip to her throat, reaching for whatever invisible force was constricting her breathing.]

2/2

[scientize]

[And finally, without a hint of warning, the feelings stop.

Hands still wrapped protectively around her neck, it takes quite a few minutes for the woman to recover and pick the Dreamberry back up. After all of her time in Somarium, she has never experienced something like this before. Throwing away the scientific improbability of it (she was getting good with that now), it isn't a difficult connection to make. Somehow, someway, she had felt the same emotions Javert had gone through while inside of his dream

[chose_death]

Your hair is loose.

[Javert is none the wiser to Naomi's distress or her strange experience. As far as the Inspector knows, it is impossible to transmit sensation and emotion through the simple act of viewing a dream. He does note that she looks somewhat more haggard than usual (as evidenced by his offhanded comment), with her hair only half-pinned at the back of her head, but he does not pay it much mind. He, himself, presents with a whitened expression, but whether it was from rage, weariness, or aggravation from all the sudden interviews is unclear. He casts her an unreadable stare, his thin lips pinched at the corner.]

I hadn't much noticed. But I recall it was dark.

[And it had just rained. The river was swollen. The better to drown himself in...]

[scientize]

[At the comment, Naomi's shaky hands move to her hair, happy to have something to do after that experience. She's still recovering, though only someone as perceptive as the Inspector himself would take notice.]

Dark? [Despite her attempts at friendly conversation, she's obviously distracted. It would be hard not to be after that.] Yes, I suppose dark is one word for it.

Do you often spend your evenings outdoors? I always pictured you as a man who stays home and finishes up work instead of enjoying the scenery.