IC Contact Post for Ryslig

[godofthemachine]

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[godofthemachine]

[People will find out. Javert is far too established here, and his absence would be noticed, and not in a way that could be excused by those who return to the Sea of Stars. But AM does want to draw this out and revel in Javert's suffering, now that he's no longer unresponsive.

After all, he won't get this opportunity often.

But it's frustrating, in fact, how resolute Javert seems, as if he's martyring himself. (That's exactly what this is, though, isn't it?)]

Perhaps, Javert, you should fetch them yourself. You seem perfectly capable of doing so.

[There is a hiss to his words, a dissatisfied narrowing of the eyes.]

[inseine]

Remove the cuffs, then, [he growls, the reds in his eyes flashing bright. Javert juts his burnt chin to his equally burnt wrists, his teeth bared, lop-sided, through singed lips.] You are finished here. Be a good fellow and release me. Or else fetch the keys with you, and let me hang a few minutes longer!

[godofthemachine]

[AM draws this out a bit more, staring at Javert, twirling his own thin beard around a finger in an obvious showing of thought.] Hmm...

You as well as I know that I'm not a good fellow, as often as you are keen to remind me.

Besides, I'm the one who prescribes punishments, as you have also reminded me.

[But finally, he grants a small mercy and unhooks the cuffs from the link on the wall, allowing Javert to walk out of here if he really wants.]

But... I suppose this isn't a punishment. All I did is what you so passionately asked me for.

[He grabs Javert's arm and drags him toward the door. If he can't walk, oh well - he's still dragged as best as AM can do. The large door to the "interrogation" room is opened, a metallic creak of the steel frame, and Javert is shoved outside of it into the next room.]

You should be able to find your coat and your keys from here.

[inseine]

[Javert's arms drop heavily. He doesn't have the time to cradle his wrists close when AM savagely snatches and hauls him to the door whilst he noodles along, his feet and legs obeying far better than he could have dared to hope. It takes two, three, four wheeling steps for him to catch himself, chest heaving. A trail of slick blood spatters in clotted puddles on the floor.

Parbleu...! What effort it demands from him to twist a gaze at AM and choke on his dry, lifeless chuckle.]

You took what you were owed, [he snarls, indiscernible from a beast's feral bark. The noise flapping from his mouth is substanceless, and it would be surprising if AM could tease apart distinct syllables from his slurred mess. Another sound, a heinous blend between a sob and a gurgle, as he turns back to the stairwell ahead of him.] Take care! We'll see each other again shortly.

[He begins his slow and painful mounting of the stairs, blood and sweat smeared in his wake.]