worthallthis | IC Inbox: In the Night

It does. They can pretend to be other people, too, though. Hallucinations are difficult.

[Yeah, sorry, Javert. They learned all sorts of fun things during this ordeal.]

I will be back on my standard routine tomorrow. I can see you after my 0500 patrol like usual and explain.

I know. Fortunately for me, there aren't many people that I care for.

( He's already lost the memory of one person he guilty feelings for. He's not too broken up about it, though. As far as Javert's concerned, it's one less weakness for them to exploit. )

Very well. I shall meet you then.

[Javert really does sound like Misty, sometimes. A gruffer, more rude Misty. But the same damn rhetoric. Soldat sighs, but doesn't argue with it.

And they'll be at the Invincible looking for him at the usual time, after settling Fjord in the downstairs area with some sewing to keep the idiot from making his pneumonia worse. Soldat looks well enough-- the tac vest is still damaged, so it's back to layers of jackets and long-sleeved shirts, which hide the remaining bandages well enough. They move just fine, though some of that is training rather than lack of pain, and they're only about as pale as anyone here is, with no sun to give them color.]

( His friends are a couple of self-isolating idiots. It can't be helped.

Javert himself is already immaculately put together despite the early hour. He doesn't have his coat on, nor his hat, but even in his shirtsleeves and waistcoat, it's difficult to tell if he's been injured. His shirt is buttoned up to the collar, pristine and pressed. He doesn't walk with a cane when he goes to the door, but he still a bit of a limp. The inspector looks him over briefly, taking in his appearance and posture, before allowing him in. )

Sit. ( He barks, in a manner that leaves no room for argument. ) Now what is this about an off switch?

[Soldat sits. And is careful not to show the relief at being off their feet.]

I told you before, sir. About the Chair my last handlers had, that they put me in, that took my memories. The green eyes. If they throw that hallucination at me, of being in the Chair. It makes everything in my head. Stop. For a while. Happened twice now.

[They shrug, regret it but try not to show it, and finish resignedly,]

Off-switch.

( He takes a seat in the opposite chair, his arms folded across his chest, and his brow furrowed. He's right that Javert has little idea what to do about it. Psychiatry was only just beginning to become a thing in the early 19th century, and Javert himself has never been good at coping with mental distress. He considers it for a moment, though, wondering, )

Why would that happen? Is it because you are still afraid?

Edited 2020-03-26 01:29 (UTC)

Sir. Frankly. I will be afraid of that thing for the rest of my life.

[Which is just the truth. They can't imagine a time when the sight of the Chair won't make them panic, even if they keep most of it inside. Because that Chair can undo everything, can undo them.]

I don't know if that's why. I'm afraid of lots of things. None of them do that to me.

Is it something to do with your programming, then?

( That's the word Soldat uses. Javert has had his moments when he's frozen up before, when he's so overwhelmed with emotion that his mind shuts down, but never anything like this. )

Maybe. I don't even know the. The extent of it anymore. The programming. They took that away, too.

[HYDRA could have done any number of things, conditioned any number of responses, and they wouldn't know until they ran head-first into it. The very idea is frustrating. (More frustrating than frightening, which... ain't that somethin'.)]

I don't know if there's a way around it. Might have to stay at long range if they're involved.

[Except last time they tried that, it went pretty badly, too.]

Perhaps it is as you said before, and you should not fight them at all.

( Perhaps that is the only solution. If Soldat isn't going to be able to fight them, then there is little point in allowing him to do so. It's a pragmatic decision, but that's not the only reason Javert seems receptive to it. He looks down, then back up, the sternness in his posture fading slightly. )

I would not begrudge you for doing so. You've been through enough.

[Soldat looks up from their hands, briefly meeting his gaze, then flicking away. Their expression is hard to read: maybe unsure, maybe a little unhappy.]

I can't stand around and do nothing. If other people are going into danger and I can help.

[But they sound unsure, too. Not because they think they deserve a break, but because they're afraid of being useless. Being a liability. Unable to protect people.]

Is that not what our combat training is for? You needn't be there to protect everyone if you can teach them to do so themselves.

( There's a part of him that almost wants to go up to Soldat, take him by the shoulders and shake him. Of all the people in Beacon that should think themselves useless, he is one of the last. He wishes that he could make him see that, but he's not so good at expressing it. )

[To keep people alive, not necessarily to remove threats. But. Yes. He has a point.

Getting Soldat to the point where they can view themselves as more than what they can do for people will take a little more doing, but everyone who acts like they have more worth than their purpose is a nudge in the right direction.]

If I can't. Twice a week isn't enough. And more people should come.

[Maybe this mess will make more people take to the training. More people come to practice. Of course, the siege didn't... so who knows.]

What would you have me do?

( He asks, and his tone quite sincere. He and Jason and Soldat have been doing this since the beginning, and Javert values their input in this as much as he does their help. It's something he's been pondering for a while, and to hear it echoed back at him is somewhat of a relief. )

We can meet more often, if that would satisfy you. I cannot mandate that people attend, however.

[The question takes Soldat by surprise. Uh. Well.]

I know. I. Know.

[They look aside, embarrassed, but answers anyway.]

Three times a week. Add Mondays. I'm there already, anyway. Maybe we can talk to people, explain the need.

[A pause, and then:]

We can do it better than those Wild Hunt people did it, too.

[Soldat has heard about the training thing. Soldat is maybe a little offended, largely on Javert's behalf (and sure, a little on their own).]

( Javert doesn't even try to hide his disdain. He scoffs a bit, )

That would not be difficult.

( It isn't so much the training irritates him. It's the fact that the Wild Hunt seemed to think that they needed it, as if Javert, Jason, and Soldat's training hasn't been enough. How did they think their group survived this long, fighting against the spirits? It's insulting, and Javert can be quite spiteful when the mood takes him. )

We would have rescued you a day sooner had they not insisting on their pointless training.

Edited 2020-03-29 18:58 (UTC)

I heard. Because one day of knife training will really help against a green-eye. Let alone a dozen of them.

[Check it out, Javert. Soldat is capable of sarcasm, albeit just a little bit.]

Must not be watching us as close as they thought. A lot of us can fight just fine already, anyway.

So it seems. Your boy was none too impressed with it.

( He turns his head. It's becoming quite difficult for Javert not to smirk, listening to Soldat's reassurances and sarcasm. He's none too worried about the Wild Hunt. Perhaps they could prove themselves useful, if they played their cards right. As for his other suggestion, Javert considers it silently. )

Perhaps we can begin thrice weekly training, then, once you and the others have recovered. How do you feel?

[Soldat wants to say they feel fine, but that haven't actually given Fjord his wisdom charm back yet, so they can't in fact say anything remotely untrue. What comes out is:]

I've been better. But I am recovering.

[Hmm. They add,]

I should be healed enough by Friday to teach at the classes again.

Do not push yourself.

( It sounds like a warning, but Javert only means it out of concern. He should probably be taking his own advice, considering how beaten and sore his body is, and how slow his gait, but he cannot stand to remain idle for much longer.

He draws himself abruptly from the couch, disappearing silently toward the kitchenette. A few moments later, he returns with a mug of coffee. It doesn't seem as if he brewed it all that long ago, as the steam rolling off of it is still warm. He offers it out to Soldat, huffing a little, )

Drink that, at least. If you must insist on tending to me, then I should be allowed the same.

( It may not be much but. He's trying. )

[Soldat readily, even happily, accepts the coffee.]

Of course, sir. I won't even complain.

[They're very familiar with Misty needing to fuss, and after the last couple visits from Javert, they're starting to get a feel for his form of fussing. It's sweet, if much more gruff than Misty's or Sora's, or their own.]

IC Inbox: In the Night

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