Post by NINA TENARDÍZ on Sept 18, 2011 0:19:46 GMT -5
Detective Philippe Javert
"Law is order in liberty, and without order, liberty is social chaos."
"Law is order in liberty, and without order, liberty is social chaos."
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Alias: Jill/Izzi
Other Characters: Jack the Ripper, Dahlia Skuld
Rewritten City Found Via: Leffie and Sisi
Contact: PM, Skype, MSN, Facebook
Comments: JESSICA ALBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA …:I
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00I. full name Philippe Javert
0II. canon or original Les Miserables
III. years of age Forty-three
0IV. orientation Pretty much asexual, just doesn’t give a crap.
00V. social status Middle class
0VI. occupation Detective for the NYPD
00I. play by Idris Elba
0II. body type Broad and tall
III. height 6’4” about. He looks quite a bit taller when standing next to his partner, Detective Athos.
0IV. eyes color A deep brown, framed by many frown lines but also crows’ feet. You can tell when he’s examining something or in deep thought by his eyes. They’re actually quite entertaining to watch, though you’ll never know, because he’ll sense your stare at once—when he looks about, they flick back and forth like an intense animal’s.
00V. description Javert’s appearance could easily be described as feral; he has a long but broad nose, large ears, thick lips. He wears a moustache and beard, more like overgrown stubble than a full beard. He has bags under his eyes most of the time, even if he gets enough sleep; his teeth are straight and white, though he doesn’t show them, and he has a deep frown line between his brows. He always seems to be observing something, whether it’s a person or the morning paper—his eye is set like a hawk’s. In public, he seems very withdrawn; hands in his pockets, chin tucked into the collar of his coat…but he is on call 24/7, and if he sees someone misbehaving, he can spring into action any second. When he laughs, which is rare, it’s rather scary—his lips pull back over his teeth and gums like a dog growling, and it comes out as more of a bark than a laugh. He often smiles, but he rarely laughs. He has dark skin but almost never acknowledges it.
Javert is his uniform; when he’s on duty (as in, in uniform—he’s always on duty) his uniform is clean of all dirt, very straight and in order; only people who know him very well can tell when he’s in an emotional crisis, and the tell-tale sign is when his uniform is even a little askew. When he’s not wearing his uniform, he dresses just like a regular guy; jeans or something else, depending on the situation; wears regular shirts, but never with short sleeves. He often wears sunglasses.
00I. overall personality
If you know who Javert is, the first thing you think of is his obsession for law and order. He believes that all humans have the choice to either be righteous and law-abiding, or be a low-down criminal; for Javert, there is no gray area. If you murder someone, you are a murderer and thus should get no more and no less than what the punishment is. He has no mercy, no pity for those who overstep the boundaries even once. It doesn’t matter to him if you’re stealing to feed your family; you’re a thief. He’s often described as ruthless. His obsession is more over the law than over the criminals themselves. (CoughcoughValjeancough) If someone gets away from him, then he’ll be extremely disappointed in himself, but he won’t chase after them. He refuses to believe that his view of the law is flawed, as Law is the only thing that keeps him going.
To quote Victor Hugo: “The peasants are convinced that in every litter of wolves there is one pup who is killed by the mother because otherwise it would grow up and devour all the other pups. Give that male wolf puppy a human face, and you have Javert.”
This description is based mostly on his view of society; he wasn’t born to be involved in it and, as he’s observed, there are two kinds of men that sit outside of society like he does: those who attack it and those who protect it. He had to go one of two ways and, being disgusted with his beginnings and his family, he decided to go down the path of Law. His work also serves as his religion; he is Atheist.
He’s composed mainly of two ideas that are good in their pure form, but he is so zealous that he actually makes them bad; whole respect for authority and hatred of revolt. He views murder, theft, and all other crimes as just different forms of revolt. As mentioned before, there is no gray area for him; he believes that true figures of authority are always good and those who stray are always bad people, irredeemable. And that includes people in high places, of course! He believes that no one is out of the reach of the law. But if their authority is righteous, he’ll stand by them (though he has been known to have numerous disagreements with his superiors, who are even sometimes corrupt). Even if his own mother had broken the law—his own daughter, even, if he had one—then he would send them away without remorse or sympathy. Not even for himself—if he falsely accuses someone of something, he will quietly asked to be resigned—of course, he’s been declined each time that happens. If he catches a gang, but one of them gets away, other people might call the capture a success, but to him it would be a complete failure just because that one got away; he might have had the answers they were looking for, if he was so important to smuggle away.
And yet, while being so brutal, Javert is actually quite an entertaining person to be around. He is sarcastic, quite quick-witted, and cynical. And even though he seems THAT ruthless, he’s actually quite laid back…only intense when it comes to his work. As an observer, he usually doesn’t start a conversation with you unless you start it, and even then he’s quite withdrawn. Only people he’s known for quite some time can actually get a long conversation out of him, but most of the time he’s brusque. Even though he seems so curt, he actually does enjoy having fun, in his own way. He has a slightly twisted idea of fun. For example, he talks more casually an amiably with people he’s arresting than non-criminals. It leads back to that “outside of society” thing; men who attack it and men who guard it, so it’s easier to talk casually to a criminal or another cop than a member of society. That, and he likes taunting them.
Javert sort of has no human vices (romance, greed, etc) except one: he smokes. He doesn’t smoke often because of the smell, and doesn’t seem to exhibit any clue that he’s addicted. Some people might call him OCD, but he’s not diagnosed. He hates to read, but in his little spare time, he does anyway. It’s obvious from the way he talks that he’s not illiterate like his the rest of his family was.
Javert is the worst nightmare of that whole class of people he hates, more specifically the homeless, who steal because they must and need pity. At the mere mention of his name, they scatter; he petrifies them. For example, if he’s arresting more than two people, he can easily get most of them to surrender to him just with threats. He seems to almost…predict the future. “Don’t shoot, you’ll miss.”
To normal people who have never really encountered him, they see him as just a really terse cop and nothing more.
To those who know him, he seems like an over-zealous, but mostly upright, honorable man. Most don’t understand why he is the way he is, that being merciless and evidently no fun. But close friends (of which he has, like, one) know that he’s not all Boring-as-dried-poo Lawbot.
III. weaknesses Javert is bold and witty, always righteous, doesn’t let obstacles get in his way of catching even a petty thief; determined, strong-willed, stands by his beliefs.
0IV. goals Has a hatred toward law breakers with no mercy, has a twisted view of justice, makes his good principals bad by being too over-zealous; only hangs onto humanity by a thread, and seems to have no emotion; he also get suspicious very easily, by something as simple as someone “being too happy”. He blindly follows the law with no mercy and cannot see that his system is hopelessly flawed. It’s his life, how can he? If he did, he’d crumble.
00I. notable family & friends
Javert was never close with his family; he was practically raised inside a jail, since his father was doing time almost continually. He was raised in New Orleans, living primarily with his grandmother and his mother, since his father was doing time, as I mentioned. His mother was a fortune teller, barely keeping the small family alive on her low income. At a young age, Javert had had to go out and work himself. Not once was he tempted to steal, even though his mother encouraged it; he felt a strange detachment from the rest of his family. His family was thieves (his grandmother being an exception) but he felt in him a sense of rigidity, steadiness, and honesty…all clouded by the inexpressible hatred that he felt toward the sort of people he lived with and around.
The only person in his family he was relatively friendly with was his grandmother, who was very Cajun, and barely spoke any English to him (not that she didn’t know it, just didn’t want to speak it to him). Thus, he had to learn Cajun French. Traces of it are still in his accent today.
PEOPLE HE KNOWS
Jane Eyre - The young friend of his, who most people are convinced he’s sleeping with. It isn’t so, and actually, they’ve firmly established a friend-zone.
Olivia Athos - Detective Athos has been his friend for years and now rides in the same car with him. He’s proud to call her his partner, but doesn’t bother to sugar coat things for her (or for anyone else, but especially her).
The Thenardier sisters - Those little rascals are constantly stepping on Javert’s toes, but he has a strange sort of fondness for them. They’re just kids and they could be shown the path of righteousness if they wanted.
0II. overall history
Javert was born and raised in New Orleans, where his parents (Cecilia and Antione Javert) had finally found a city that would support them on little-to-no education and their strange talents. His mother was advertized as a “gypsy fortune seer”. His father (Cajun like his grandmother) also ran a “ghostly tours” type business, as that sort of thing is extremely popular in New Orleans. His father was in jail most of the time, making money from that business rare and spent quickly. His father’s mother lived with them and he picked up the Cajun-French dialect from her (along with the people in his neighborhood).
He attended a nearby public school, where he was absorbed in his studies and not much else. It served as something to get him away from home for awhile. In this last year of high school, when he was 18, he started to study law extensively. He decided that, unlike his parents, he would choose to go down the path of protecting society as opposed to attacking it; he’d always felt there was a straight, up-right, honest air about himself. Javert, not wanting to spend much time at home, would go around and loiter at the courthouse or near the police station. Henri de la Fère, a wealthy lawyer in the area, noticed and asked about it; Javert, of course, told him that he was observing since he was going to be an officer once he graduated. Henri offered to help him study law on the side until he graduated, and Javert accepted.
For the next year, Javert would study law with study Henri as his instructor, and became a very good friend. Javert, of course, felt extremely honored and like he had a debt to pay to Henri, so he agreed to look after Henri’s daughter, Olivia (then six), when Henri and his wife were away. Javert, not being the best with kids, basically treated Liv like she was a grownup, just small; he had rather complicated conversations with her about law…they also played chess frequently. He and Liv became close, and Javert was her role model.
He then graduated. When his grandmother passed away, Javert, disgusted with his mother, decided that it was time to get to college, but he had no money. Henri was happy to assist him, telling him that he could repay him eventually. Javert then moved from New Orleans, into a university in New York. He finished with his Bachelors in Criminal Science, and then moved on to the police academy. When Javert was 24, his mother died, but he didn’t know until five years later—shows how much attention he pays to her.
A year after he found that his mother died, he heard that Henri died by a letter from Olivia. He also learned, in this letter, that Athos was planning on becoming a police officer as well.
The years passed more or less uneventfully When Javert was 35, he was alerted that his old friend Athos was in town and currently in the Academy. When Athos graduated, they became partners. Javert did not and still does not have any clue about Liv’s husband or even that she was married. Five years later, Javert was promoted to Police Detective, and was joined by Athos in another three years. They were partnered up again.
Over the past couple years, a gang that calls themselves Patron-Minette has troubled the place that is considered Javert’s territory (and is actually called that by many criminals, as he’s so widely known for his mercilessness). He’s arrested them so much that he knows them all by name, including the girls in the gang, Éponine and Azelma. The leader of the gang, Claude, is extremely irritated by Javert, while the rest of the members are rather scared of him. Javert is thoroughly amused by Claude’s irritation and their fear.
III. sample post
The excited, doughy hazel eyes stared back up at him over a tight wire muzzle. They’d brought it to him like it itself was a prisoner, and the thought forced him to sigh, exasperated. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked flatly.
The woman handler, a petite African woman, looked up at him with a frown. “Nothing. And it’s a male, Sir.” The dog itself was a tan and black Husky-Akita mix, with lively eyes and a very lean build.
“Him, then. Can’t you take that thing off?” A slight hand gesture to the muzzle.
“He gets over-excited some times,” she replied shortly. Agent Stewart, the handler, had been blubbering for weeks about her landlord’s unfair terms. He’s a police dog, she would wail in frustration, What right has he to run him out? Javert’s first question was, Why did you apply to be a K9 unit anyway? Stewart was lucky he had even stepped forward. If he hadn’t thought it part of his duty he wouldn’t have gone near the situation. But, the transaction had already been made; the dog’s cage and bed had been moved into Javert’s apartment to lodge with him while the handler argued with her landlord.
“And a muzzle’s necessary?”
“He’s always jumping.”
“Well he’s a dog.” Javert paused. “Does he even have a name?”
“I named him Matt, but he never comes when I call.”
Javert looked at her, blinking. A police dog that didn’t come when it was called? How the hell did it survive through training? The dogs were always pumped through as puppies, and even old dogs could learn new tricks. Apparently this dog couldn’t learn anything. “You said he was three?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Alright. Good luck, Stewart.” He held out a hand as she reluctantly gave him the leash, crouching down and patting Matt goodbye for now. “He’ll see you at work within the next couple.”
“Yeah,” she mumbled, and then turned and left the apartment.
There was a long, almost awkward moment of silence as the dog stared up at Javert and Javert stared back down at the dog. “So, you don’t like being called Matt, huh?” The dog’s ears twitched, and it stamped one foot with a resounding click. The detective was surprised to find himself chuckling. “Right. So we gotta think of a new name.”
He pulled up a chair and sat down, undoing the muzzle and letting the dog breathe more freely. ‘Matt’ seemed to like this, his mouth opening wide in what appeared to be a doggy grin. Javert tilted his head and was slightly taken aback when the dog mirrored his movement. “Well, has to be French, dunn’it, kid?”
From the back of the dog’s throat came the beginnings of a playful howl, but he was quickly corrected with a sharp, “Hey!” from Javert. ‘Matt’ exhaled heavily and whined, resting his nose on Javert’s leg.
The detective sighed. “Something close to Matt, I guess. Mattieu?” No response from the dog. “Oh, I see. You’re picky. Sorry, dog, it’s still gotta have ‘Matt’ in it. Stewart’ll be mad at me.”
The dog stared up at him, eyebrows quirking.
“I’m going to win this game, dog. I’m a long-time champio--”
It barked, and loudly.
“Hey! What’s with you?” Javert frowned. “There’s no need to cut me off, champ.” Another bark and a whimper. “Champ?” Tentatively, the animal licked his hand. “...Okay. Champ... Champmathieu,” he concluded, wiping the drool off on his pants.
The doughy eyes seemed to light up and the dog jumped back, stretching into a pounce position. Before Javert could stop him, Champ sprung forward a few inches in excitement, and continued to prance in this fashion for several more seconds.
There was a long pause where the dog looked at him and he looked at the dog, and the dog wagged his tail, and then finally Javert muttered: “You’re a chipper fellow.”
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SYR INTEGRA of CAUTION 2.0 created this, modified by Yols with Shakespeare lines.
