Stars.... (Gusssssyy :P))

[ÉMILE JAVERT]

Javert didn’t often go out at night, unless he was on patrol, not any more. As of late the streets of Paris had grown too dangerous, even for a police inspector... especially for a police inspector. However this night his own troubled thoughts had prevented him from his sleep. Instead he’d pulled his dark blue great coat on for warmth, the collar up high, and in part hiding his clothing beneath being buttoned closed. His truncheon was easy to hand, the leather strap looped around his wrist, just in case. Indeed right now it was tucked under one arm, his gaze upwards to the skies littered with stars.

Mine is the way of the Lord,
Those who follow the path of the righteous
Shall have their reward

He’d always believed that the path of the righteous, of working honestly would get their proper reward. Honest work would always cause one to better oneself. However this wasn’t happening. The government was forcing everything to break down and he was powerless to do anything. Maybe this was a test? Maybe this was a test of his faith. Still it wasn’t right and his mind was, as ever, drawn back to the words of the man so afflicted by gout. That there was more that could be done if he wasn’t to appear akin to the Pharisees of old. They followed the letter of duty and were proven wrong as they had no feeling, maybe that was his problem. He didn’t feel.

And if they fall as Lucifer fell...
The flame, the sword!
Stars... in your multitudes... scarce to be counted
Filling the darkness, with order and light...

Order, that was something missing in this orderless time. Everything had fallen to chaos, revolutions brewing everywhere. The government was only making the situation worst and it was too pigheaded to turn around. Instead they were adding more fuel to fan the flames of revolution and to what extent? “Poor Paris, Poor France,” was all he murmured to himself. “There must be more... but what?” he sighed. His faith, his trust in his call to follow his duty was being shaken, and it left the inspector unsure. There was no order left. “Instead of strength and unity we are being divided and eaten from within,” he added on softly.

You are the sentinels...
Silent and sure...
Keeping watch in the night....
Keeping watch in the night

Slowly he paused on a bridge, his gaze slipping from staring at the stars to staring at their reflection of the lights in the river below. One of the few times sewage wasn’t marring it, instead the river flowed rapidly and clear – an inky black mirror reflecting a void filled with stars. They always returned didn’t they? There was never anything different, always ordered. He sighed. “Things have to change... have to get better, we need to stop attacking our own people first,” he closed his eyes briefly. “And what about the man. The one with gout? What about him? “What do I do about what he said ? That to follow only the law to the letter and enforce it to the letter is to be no better than the Pharisees? They followed the law, and enforced it... and yet God cast them out,” he rubbed his furrowed brow, getting a headache, trying to organize his thoughts, though with little avail.

And so it must be –
For so it is written, on the doorways to paradise
That those who falter and those who fall...
Must pay the price.

With how distracted he was it would have been easy for anyone out to come and pickpocket the inspector, he certainly wasn’t guarding himself. As it was it would also be easy to make him jump.

[gustave]

I am not a man of honor
or a man of self-indulgence.
To declare myself a man of pride
I would have to forget these devilish lies

Gustave was out on a patrol, saber strapped to his waist and his grey eyes scanning and surveying all that passed around him, he knew exactly what he wanted and what he needed and where he would find it, his perfectly polished boots. His immaculate uniform was the shield that protected him from the profligateness of the poor around him, he ignored it and his uniform helped him ignore it. Even at night the people recognised his uniform and scurried away, aside from that the gangs.... some of the people recognised Gustave and looked down and away from him, others including the top-hatted minions of Louis Thenardier brazenly stared him in the eye and Gustave had clobbered a fair few of them for doing so. But there was always more. Patron Minette membership exceeded the police force of the area assigned to them by five to one and that was just one gang.

I declare I am rather lost
In fields of battles long past.
There are lines I should not have crossed
There are friends who have long since passed [l/eft]

He recognised the shape and form of Thomas Javert standing alone on the bridge across the Seine, it was Thomas' want to do such things, to patrol along the very edge of tall bridges, the very edge of momentous buildings. Almost as if the man had some sort of obsession with conquering obstacles. Such a thing of course was obvious to Gustave. The Sargent had known Javert for as long as he had been in the police force himself. Of course Gustave would never rise above the lowly rank of Sargent due to the overwhelming political pressure that such a move would entail. Gustave as a member of the former Napoleonic army had been damned the moment his Emperor had crashed from his previously soaring height only to rise briefly like a twinkling star in twilight only to be broken once more upon the fields of Waterloo.

Gustave lacked a cause. He lacked a reason to wake himself up in the morning, a reason to throw the covers back off his large body, yawn and get dressed to go to work. He struggled to find any reason at all for even bothering to look himself in the mirror as he tied his tie, to shave his facial hair outside of looking tidy and presentable. Each time he passed the razor across his cheek he imagined how easy it would be to pass it across his throat and die slowly and quietly as he felt he deserved to.

The Sargent had never been too comfortable with his new lot in life, he'd never woke up ready for a good day patrolling. He always found it harrowing both emotionally and often physically. He was harangued and threatened and he was attacked with all manner of weapons but Gustave always hauled himself through day after day.

It was beginning to take it's tool upon him and even as he stepped next to the man he considered his closest friend in the wide world. All the rest had perished or long since disappeared under the watchful eye of the new monarchy. Gustave saw Javert's truncheon and he spoke in a soft voice that carried simply due to the size of the man speaking. "Men are often to prone to doubt themselves in times of crises Petit-Thomas... it is how we overcome those doubts that we truly discover ourselves." he approached his friend and stood next to him staring up at the sky. "Star-gazing again I see..." he said with a rueful grin "During Waterloo I never believed I would see the stars again."

His voice was soft as silk and laced with a melancholic overtone that of late had spoilt his outlook on life.

[ÉMILE JAVERT]

A slight jerk of his shoulders as Javert jumped initially at the voice, not even turning to see who it was. His mind focused however on the words he had spoken, giving a quiet chuckle – though it was rather empty of any mirth in the sound. “If it was just myself I doubted. I doubt everything as of late, Gustave,” he stated quietly. “You and the stars are the only things I presently do not doubt,” he added on his voice still quiet. “I doubt the monarchy and the government know what to do, I even doubt if I follow my own path correctly,” he shook his head.

“There was a man when I was attending a meeting to assist keeping a crowd in order. At first I thought him to be 24601, he dragged his right leg just as a prisoner would dragging a chain. The meeting... it was about a promotion, a new police inspector,” it should be a sign of how muddled his mind was that he was speaking about his thoughts and worries so openly to Gustave, friend or no Javert rarely spoke what he was thinking, or what was worrying him.

“This man, he was afflicted by gout and it had flared up something chronic due to the dampness of the morning. We walked together for a brief while, and... we talked. Ever since that discussion my mind has been plagued with doubts, doubts about every action I take. You already know my thoughts on half of what we are tasked to enforce, my thoughts on the clobbering of the poor, the constant moves to push them further and further down, but now I question if I shouldn’t even be trying to do more to help them? I always believed that honest work would allow one to progress... but...” he sighed.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to burden you with my petty problems, I am sure you have problems just as great as my own,” he added on looking over curiously at Gustave. “I didn’t think to see you joining me as I stare at the skies,” he added on quietly. “I only stare in the hopes they might give me an answer, they haven’t spoken yet,” he was trying now to cover that moment of vulnerability that came with showing his feelings and his thoughts so openly.