february catch all

[policier]

characters: javert & ota
location: the village gymnasium, bonfire square
date/time: february 5-12
content: javert fractured his leg, and he's not dealing with it well
warnings: n/a

combat training

( There's a span of three days, from the second of the month to the fourth, where Javert's presence all but erases itself from Beacon. He doesn't show up for patrols, and he doesn't appear at the tavern. Should anyone care to contact him, he would answer, but by all accounts, it would almost seem as if he died. He doesn't show up at the church, though, either.

But he does make his presence known in the gymnasium. He shows up for combat training unceremoniously, limping along on crutches and with a cobbled together cast on his leg. He shouldn't be out and about at all, but anyone who knows Javert well, knows that he's as stubborn as a mule. He cannot be persuaded to stay home, and he scorns anyone who dare offer their concern. Every Wednesday and Friday, he sits on the bleachers, surveying the fighters and offering instructions to those who are nearby. He's a little more patient with the instructors — Soldat and Jason especially — but his anger is directed at himself more than anyone else. )

patrolling

( After combat training, and the first aid lessons that follow, Javert tries to do a patrol of the area around the town square. It's a struggle, to be sure. After several minutes, his body is already beginning to tire from the exertion. He's not as formidable as he usually is when he's on crutches, but he still looks the part. With his woolen greatcoat buttoned up to the collar, hat on his head, and his appearance immaculate.

There's a sheen of sweat on his forehead, though. And after a while, he concedes to taking a seat by the bonfire. He doesn't stay there for long, reaching for his crutches once it seems he's gotten his strength back. Someone tell him to go home! )

Comments

starting with text @ Soldier, probably turning action at some point

[worthallthis]

[When Javert isn't waiting at their usual spot to exchange patrol news and switch off routes, Soldat is confused. Javert is never late. There's no terrible weather, there's no lantern malfunction, there's no siege. When they wait for half an hour and he doesn't show up, they feeling has upgraded to worry and they break out their tablet to contact him.]

Sir where are you

[policier]

Home.

( He feels a bit bad for not telling him. Usually, he keeps himself on top of such things, informing Soldat when he will be late, or when he might not show up at all. He's been abed for some time, though, sleeping most of the pain off. )

I may not be able to conducts patrols for a while.

[worthallthis]

[Oh shit. Javert? Not do patrols? Did he almost die??]

What happened

[policier]

I injured my leg.

( He almost got eaten. It's fine. )

There are three hostile spirits located in the courthouse. If you are downtown, make certain no one goes in there.

[worthallthis]

[It is not fine. Soldat is never letting you go on an explore alone again, Javert, do you hear? If you'd had decent guns and a metal arm and a supersoldier, you'd probably be fine right now.]

Of course sir. I will board it up so no one can

[They had noticed on yesterday's patrol that the boards had been taken down. Javert must have done it. And they didn't even know.]

Tell me about the spirits

[Can they kill them?]

traning~

[endlessflask]

[ He doesn't entirely know what he's doing here. Well, he knows - he's here because he has no actually useful skills and he doesn't want to wander into the woods and die. But he can't really believe that he thought this was a good idea.

It doesn't really matter. Eliot walks into the gym and he's not the sort to turn tail and leave, so he's staying. And it's decent enough that he goes again. It turns out swordsmanship is very hard without the use of magic, but he thinks he's doing all right.

Please someone tell him he's doing all right. ]

[policier]

Be mindful of your knee.

( Eliot may not doing poorly, but Javert's a bit of a perfectionist. He's quick to point out anything he does wrong, every small motion or swing. He's sitting nearby on the bleachers, watching attentively as the other man goes through his footwork drills. Javert makes him use one of the blunted practice swords, just so he doesn't hurt himself on accident. )

Keep it pointed forward or out. Try it again.

[endlessflask]

Huh?

[ Eliot stops when he's corrected. He glances down at his knee, and he doesn't really understand at first what the problem is. But he turns it out the way he thinks it should be, and tries to sequence again.

He hates to admit that it's sort of enjoyable learning how to do this the right way. ]

Like that?

[policier]

Better.

( It's a common enough mistake, and Javert doesn't seem too perturbed about it. What irks him more is the fact that he cannot participate in it himself. He hasn't realized how much he's enjoyed sparring until the ability has been taken from him. )

Keep at it. Perhaps when I am well again you will not get trounced so easily.

Patrolling

[legalcy]

[Minimus Ambus has spent a good portion of the day sorting through the scrapyard, and while he has made progress, the little cloud following him, courtesy of the Night Market, has made it difficult to get any work done.

Firstly, being a robot, sudden electric shocks affect his entire frame in ways that are not harmful but very uncomfortable even in private. Secondly, the sheer amount of metal in that field meant that those little lightning strikes put everyone else in the area in danger. No more. Nothing could be done. How else was he supposed to protect the town?

The 9 foot tall Cybertronian strides towards town - perhaps there are wayward spirits seeking to cause mischief - while ignoring the bad weather. A seated figure by the bonfire catches his attention, and careful to keep his distance, he calls out.]

Any news on the spirits' activities?

[policier]

( He's quite the inconspicuous figure, standing so tall and with a storm cloud hanging overhead. Javert notices him before he speaks, although he doesn't make that particularly obvious. He's a police spy, after all, it's his job to observe without being noticed. )

Perhaps. What concern is it of yours?

( He tilts his head, looking up at him. He does have information about the spirits, but he isn't about to give it up to just anyone. There are quite a few fools around here, and Javert's not about to give anyone anymore reason to die. )

[legalcy]

If there are potential events that can put us all in jeopardy, I have the right to know as to better prepare myself to take action.

[He folds his arms and stares straight at Javert with his softly glowing optics. It starts drizzling on him.]

I've kept a close watch on them after I caught them attempting to steal small items and cause mischief within the village perimeter.

[policier]

( An exasperated noise escapes him. )

Again?

( It's almost as if he's looking at a reflection of himself, standing there with his arms folded, demanded to be informed of recent developments. He's glad someone's doing something about the spirits, mischievous as they are, with him being out of commission because of his leg. He frowns and says, )

I haven't much knowledge of that, I'm afraid. But there is a concerning matter at the courthouse downtown. You know of it?

Training

[fjorgedinfire]

[There's a new person in the combat training; Fjord saw the fliers on the bulletin board and was curious. He's wearing his leather armour - because as of yet, he hasn't actually looked for other clothing yet - and has picked up a falchion to practice swinging with. Just a regular steel one from the armory, not his fancy eldritch one.

He's not bad at the motions, twirling and spinning it in lazy, somewhat showy flourishes - figure eights, shifting between front and back-hand grips - but when he does actually practice strikes they're mostly brute force slashes. His defense is a bit lacking too, taking the hits a bit too front-on, but taking them well. He's clearly experienced, if under-trained.]

[policier]

( When there's a break in his sparring, Javert calmly approaches him. He's been watching him for a while, as he often does whenever there's a new face in the gymnasium. He's not entirely human, but that doesn't seem to phase the inspector in the least. Being in Beacon for eight months has made him somewhat impervious to it, and so when he sees Fjord, he doesn't ask for his name, but instead, )

Where did you learn how to fight?

( It almost sounds sarcastic, but it isn't. )

[fjorgedinfire]

[Fjord hasn't quite worked himself to a sweat yet, but he does eye the sober face with something like curiosity.]

On the job training. Used to be a sailor, before circumstances turned me towards adventuring instead.

[He certainly looks like he'd belong on the cover of a Penny Dreadful, despite the green.]

[policier]

That explains much.

( He says in an undertone, more so to himself than anything. There's a moment where he looks like he's considering something, before finally saying, )

Your movements are not as precise as they should be, but that can be retaught. I can show you, if you're interested?

patrolling

[lunchbreaks]

[ Aziraphale is going around town as usual, basket under his arms no doubt laden with groceries.

He stops when he sees Javert, and places his basket on the ground, attempting to help the policeman by handing him a crutch. ]

Monsieur Javert, what has happened to your leg?

Do you need assistance? I could look at it, if you want.

[policier]

( He notices him coming out of the corner of his eye, in a flash of white and curls, and he all but groans in exasperation. Could this day get any worse? Probably not. )

As you can see, it is injured.

( He quips dryly, waving a hand at his broken leg before taking the crutch from Aziraphale. He stands, although not without much difficulty. )

Unless you have a magic spell of some sort, there is little to be done about it.

[lunchbreaks]

[ He's all smiles, though he doesn't know if Javert's sour demeanor is due to his injury or, you know, just in general. But if he doesn't want to give him an answer as to what happened, he won't pry. ]

Oh now, I wouldn't say there's nothing we could do.

[ Pessimist, meet optimist. He takes his hands and snaps downward, invoking... something. And though his healing is stunted, Javert's leg should get a little better, about halfway to healed. ]

[policier]

( It's a little bit of both. He doesn't protest when the other man moves his hand, mostly because he doesn't know what he's doing, until he feels his leg heal. What in God's name was that? )

What did you do?

( He barks, in lieu of what should have been a thank you. )

combat training

[forcer]

[ After several texts with Javert, Kylo decided to take him up on his offer for combat training. Knowing that he'd been bested by the scavenger, he figures he could use any sort of training the man had available. There is always an opportunity to hone his skills as a fighter. He had plans to meditate later that day, as soon as his first day of training was complete.

He's not sure what to expect, though, or what Javert could possibly offer him. They discussed training with a knife; Kylo borrowed a knife from Hux to use, deciding he'd go to the armory to find his own if he felt it necessary. He trained with Luke as his padawan at the school before he turned to the Dark Side. After he destroyed the school and all of the students in it, he trained heavily under his new master, Snoke. He was so strong in the Force until he met the girl and the traitorous stormtrooper, the fight with them leading to his death. It was a hit to his pride, for sure, and made him question his abilities as a Force user and as a fighter in general.

Kylo arrives at the gymnasium dressed in the same tunic, pants, and belt he wore in his own galaxy, lightsaber clipped to his belt. He has the knife and sheath he borrowed from Hux resting on his other hip. The wound across his face and down his neck is still fresh, still in the process of healing, but he intends to use the pain and anger to his advantage.

He looks about, looking for Javert, eyes finally landing on a man sitting in the bleachers. He's certain this is who he's looking for. ]

[policier]

( Javert may not have asked after the other man's appearance, but he can identify him easily enough. He's a new face, someone who's never been seen around Beacon before, or combat training. The inspector makes it his business to know who everyone is, what they look like, and what their habits are. It's not so difficult to do, with so few people around.

Kylo looks in his direction, and Javert inclines his head slightly. A silent acknowledgement, and perhaps an invitation for him to come over. He would do so himself if he wasn't injured. He's already been chastised enough about pushing himself too hard. When Kylo approaches, in a lieu of a greeting, Javert says, )

I thought you would bring your saber.

[forcer]

I have it. [ Kylo rests his hand on the hilt clipped to his belt. ] I keep it on me at all times

[ He's stopped a few steps below Javert, deciding to remain standing instead of taking a seat. Hopefully this training will be worthwhile, but he won't hold his breath. He's used to tough training, stuff that's meant to break a man in every sense of the word. He knows this won't be to the level he experienced in his own galaxy with Luke and then with Snoke... But it's something, more than he has at the moment at the very least. Kylo needed something to do so he's not left feeling so lost. ]

I can give you a demonstration if you'd like.

[policier]

( It's difficult for him not to scoff, but he manages somehow. He draws a glance down at the hilt, his expression unimpressed, before looking back up at the younger man and saying, )

Show me, then. Let us see whether you are as good as you say.

( There's a challenge in his voice, his tone haughty and arrogant. He doesn't know what this man can do with a blade-less hilt, but he's seen stranger things before. )