[Javert bares his yellowed canines proudly in what could best be described as a toothy, predatory smirk. One feels ill-at-ease setting eyes on a smirk like that one, especially when it is in response to a perfectly reasonable request to not projectile vomit all over another man's face. He accepts the minor assistance with a heavy lean against the stranger's shoulder.]
You are. [Gawking, Javert means. He glances around to the nearest street sign, then examines the lane down to the next corner. Where are all the lighted signs? It is not late enough to shutter the city yet!] A little. And why not? [In a clucking mutter,] Apparently I am not drunk enough to miss that I am tonight's clown.
[But once he is standing he rejects further support, and he makes a loose swinging gesture to usher Rory away.]
Off with me, now! I will manage myself. To the b-- [His gaze darts back from where he came, then he pats his pockets with a wince, finishing lamely,] To the next stop. [Some alleyway would suit him. He bids Rory adieu too sharply and loudly:] Good day!
[Javert swings around, and after a brief spell of confusion, randomly selects a path and lurches forward. He may as well have cement blocks strapped to his boots, he stomps so heavily!]
for now he is
You are. [Gawking, Javert means. He glances around to the nearest street sign, then examines the lane down to the next corner. Where are all the lighted signs? It is not late enough to shutter the city yet!] A little. And why not? [In a clucking mutter,] Apparently I am not drunk enough to miss that I am tonight's clown.
[But once he is standing he rejects further support, and he makes a loose swinging gesture to usher Rory away.]
Off with me, now! I will manage myself. To the b-- [His gaze darts back from where he came, then he pats his pockets with a wince, finishing lamely,] To the next stop. [Some alleyway would suit him. He bids Rory adieu too sharply and loudly:] Good day!
[Javert swings around, and after a brief spell of confusion, randomly selects a path and lurches forward. He may as well have cement blocks strapped to his boots, he stomps so heavily!]