"Javert. Of the police, Inspector of the First Class."
Formerly. You ought to have said Formerly! Formerly of the Army, formerly of the Prison Guard, as well.
Javert said it so automatically, so thoughtlessly, like a curt and proud slip of his earned title, that it took a moment to sink in: the palpable scrunch around his eye, the pinched, crooked, uncertain frown snagging at the corner of one lip, the tip of an ear flicking almost imperceptibly. He gnawed on the inside of his lower lip and gulped air, steeling himself, and wiped his face clean. Droll once more.
"Be you at ease," he followed up dryly, masking the ache in his breast. The faintest spark alights in his eye, knowing without saying aloud that he suspected and scented Fjord's guardedness masked a wariness of enforcement officials. Javert was an expert at sniffing out the rogues among them, after all; it was like a fifth sense to him, tickling his nose-hairs and setting off a soft beep in the inner reaches of his ears. He drummed his nails upon the end of his cudgel. "Don't you tiptoe around me, will you. I see what you are thinking. I have no such authority here."
So the green fellow would be safe from his sharp command, for now. Until, perhaps, Javert came to learn who the authorities were in that world, along with the rules and laws the governed them.
The shark, meanwhile, rolled fully onto his side, belly exposed, overtly enjoying Javert's firm thumb-strokes across the gills. Javert's brow bounced up his forehead, disappearing beneath his thick black bangs.
"Look at him. The damn creature is like a stray dog," he murmured, attention drawn to the sea predator once more. "Let's put our heads together about this problem, rather. How much of this will it take for him to drop the curtain barring the exit, I wonder?"
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Formerly. You ought to have said Formerly! Formerly of the Army, formerly of the Prison Guard, as well.
Javert said it so automatically, so thoughtlessly, like a curt and proud slip of his earned title, that it took a moment to sink in: the palpable scrunch around his eye, the pinched, crooked, uncertain frown snagging at the corner of one lip, the tip of an ear flicking almost imperceptibly. He gnawed on the inside of his lower lip and gulped air, steeling himself, and wiped his face clean. Droll once more.
"Be you at ease," he followed up dryly, masking the ache in his breast. The faintest spark alights in his eye, knowing without saying aloud that he suspected and scented Fjord's guardedness masked a wariness of enforcement officials. Javert was an expert at sniffing out the rogues among them, after all; it was like a fifth sense to him, tickling his nose-hairs and setting off a soft beep in the inner reaches of his ears. He drummed his nails upon the end of his cudgel. "Don't you tiptoe around me, will you. I see what you are thinking. I have no such authority here."
So the green fellow would be safe from his sharp command, for now. Until, perhaps, Javert came to learn who the authorities were in that world, along with the rules and laws the governed them.
The shark, meanwhile, rolled fully onto his side, belly exposed, overtly enjoying Javert's firm thumb-strokes across the gills. Javert's brow bounced up his forehead, disappearing beneath his thick black bangs.
"Look at him. The damn creature is like a stray dog," he murmured, attention drawn to the sea predator once more. "Let's put our heads together about this problem, rather. How much of this will it take for him to drop the curtain barring the exit, I wonder?"