[One and a half months, nearing two. That is how long Javert can recall since the dates started to make sense again, since the gaps between autumn and summer faded from importance and he released his frustration and perturbation from his breast. Only one month since he made waves and reinforced his status in Ryslig, by making an example of R. Gardner for her egregious betrayal. Mere days since he slithered out of the infernal Labyrinth of Rooms caked in monster blood, his hollow eyes steeped with bottomless horrors.
And only one day since Doctor Pierce startled him, awaking nude beside him in his bed. One day since he received that agonizing blow, full in the face, in the form of his friend's (just a friend?) betrayed and pained mien when he fetched a fresh meal off the streets of Dyster.
He lay now alone on his unturned bed, laptop open upon his desk. Sleep evades him, as it always does day after day, a spent blunt smoldering at his nightstand. When he shuts his bloodshot eyes, he is haunted; Doctor Pierce's hurt, bloodsoaked hands, a heart still-beating in his claws, the taste of teenaged flesh coating his tongue.
He tells himself there is no shame in a Monster reliving his triumphs. No shame, when he has the right idea of Monstrosity.
And yet...
Javert's eyes crack open at the sound of a chime from his laptop. He grimaces, pushing himself upright and glancing at the time. His natural nosiness gets the better of him, and he sweeps his way to the desk to find a very strange (and not unwelcome) distraction, indeed.
It is his new acquaintance from the network. The sharp-witted fellow, one with which he's gleaned a decent rapport.
What is this about a tip?]
< PasUnPolicier > That depends. How hot, and how fresh?
no subject
And only one day since Doctor Pierce startled him, awaking nude beside him in his bed. One day since he received that agonizing blow, full in the face, in the form of his friend's (just a friend?) betrayed and pained mien when he fetched a fresh meal off the streets of Dyster.
He lay now alone on his unturned bed, laptop open upon his desk. Sleep evades him, as it always does day after day, a spent blunt smoldering at his nightstand. When he shuts his bloodshot eyes, he is haunted; Doctor Pierce's hurt, bloodsoaked hands, a heart still-beating in his claws, the taste of teenaged flesh coating his tongue.
He tells himself there is no shame in a Monster reliving his triumphs. No shame, when he has the right idea of Monstrosity.
And yet...
Javert's eyes crack open at the sound of a chime from his laptop. He grimaces, pushing himself upright and glancing at the time. His natural nosiness gets the better of him, and he sweeps his way to the desk to find a very strange (and not unwelcome) distraction, indeed.
It is his new acquaintance from the network. The sharp-witted fellow, one with which he's gleaned a decent rapport.
What is this about a tip?]
< PasUnPolicier >
That depends. How hot, and how fresh?
[Tell him something he doesn't know. Go on.]