[Why is it that I wander out here? muses Javert dimly to himself as he peers out to the top of Tu Vishan's head. I must quit this annoying habit. Too much time wasted!
The space near the Turtle's head is like a drug. It is only recently that Javert is beginning to consider the spot an extraneous indulgence, despite only choosing to venture out there during his free time.
Javert is a man with a troubled, miserable mind and an equally troubled soul, compounded by his struggles to cope with his afterlife, his ideals, the concept of justice, the recent battles and incidences, the impending war, and his own place in the universe. His calmness in everyday affairs is no coincidence; one could easily chalk it up to an abundance of self-control, but his willpower does need a leg up from time to time. And so he has come to spend increasingly longer chunks of time sharing Tu Vishan's company in silence at a rate of roughly once per week. Each time, he lingers just a few minutes longer, and each time he resumes his work with a renewed sense of calm, his aggravations and anxieties pushed to the back of his mind. Today happens to be his day to empty his thoughts with a lit cigarette, a rare luxury and a breath of fresh air for Javert's overactive neuroses.
If anyone were to ask him, he would be unable to explain why he takes the weekly trip to the turtle's head. And a good thing, too: were he completely aware that it was simply an escape, a 'recharge,' or a coping mechanism, he would cease immediately and allow himself to become consumed with agitation.
Some minutes ago, Javert, with a slow blink and a prickle at the rune on his forehead, had become aware of an additional presence at the turtle's head. Iorveth did not take long to seek out among the shoulder-slopes and embankments. He notices quickly that Iorveth is writing something in his native tongue, something that looks to be quite extensive. Javert hums. What the devil has Iorveth been up to all this time? Spilling state secrets to plenty of others, despite threatening Javert himself with pain of death? Javert's brow pops into a sharp arch, and he plucks his cigarette from his mouth to call out,]
So it is you! Still intact after the disaster last week. [Javert gestures vaguely to the notepad.] Tell me you were struck with genius, and that is the start of some grand plan!
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The space near the Turtle's head is like a drug. It is only recently that Javert is beginning to consider the spot an extraneous indulgence, despite only choosing to venture out there during his free time.
Javert is a man with a troubled, miserable mind and an equally troubled soul, compounded by his struggles to cope with his afterlife, his ideals, the concept of justice, the recent battles and incidences, the impending war, and his own place in the universe. His calmness in everyday affairs is no coincidence; one could easily chalk it up to an abundance of self-control, but his willpower does need a leg up from time to time. And so he has come to spend increasingly longer chunks of time sharing Tu Vishan's company in silence at a rate of roughly once per week. Each time, he lingers just a few minutes longer, and each time he resumes his work with a renewed sense of calm, his aggravations and anxieties pushed to the back of his mind. Today happens to be his day to empty his thoughts with a lit cigarette, a rare luxury and a breath of fresh air for Javert's overactive neuroses.
If anyone were to ask him, he would be unable to explain why he takes the weekly trip to the turtle's head. And a good thing, too: were he completely aware that it was simply an escape, a 'recharge,' or a coping mechanism, he would cease immediately and allow himself to become consumed with agitation.
Some minutes ago, Javert, with a slow blink and a prickle at the rune on his forehead, had become aware of an additional presence at the turtle's head. Iorveth did not take long to seek out among the shoulder-slopes and embankments. He notices quickly that Iorveth is writing something in his native tongue, something that looks to be quite extensive. Javert hums. What the devil has Iorveth been up to all this time? Spilling state secrets to plenty of others, despite threatening Javert himself with pain of death? Javert's brow pops into a sharp arch, and he plucks his cigarette from his mouth to call out,]
So it is you! Still intact after the disaster last week. [Javert gestures vaguely to the notepad.] Tell me you were struck with genius, and that is the start of some grand plan!