Lunge nodded. “Of course. He’s said he wants it back by lunch tomorrow, but I’d be happy to prepare a summary of sorts for you.” As for how to recognise him… it may have barely ghosted across his face for a second, but the twitch to the inspector’s mouth would have been obvious to someone as observant as L. “Young. No older than eighteen. Tall, dark hair, pur- violet eyes.” It was hardly a lie, and there was nothing wrong with rationalising the impossible.
Just as he was certain that they had wandered back onto more sure territory with Javert, however, L’s questions took a… very strange turn. “That Javert?” He pressed his fingertips together lightly, mildly perplexed and more than a little irritated that he had apparently missed something obvious. Was the man an important historical figure? “I hadn’t heard the name before. However, he claims that he is from the nineteenth century.”
Claims. Had he not been so very aware of every word that passed his lips he would almost have missed that important little distinction. As trustworthy as the man had seemed to him (and as he would have liked to have thought he was), Javert was still under observation when it came to his perception of reality. More troubling, however, was that his story was becoming more and more plausible with every second he spent in this place.
Hmm.
He nodded as L explained his own ideas on the town, carefully storing them away with his own theories. “A purge?” Well, that was something new. He sat up a little straighter, leaning in over his art. “What do you know about it?”
“Looking into Doyle is one of my top priorities. Unfortunately, there isn’t much information about the man in circulation, but I’ve been told he was hardly an angel.” Javert again. “Given that his was the voice IDed as Landel’s attacker, I’m inclined to believe that. I’m also inclined to believe that he was possibly behind last night’s events.”
While L reached for the glitter, Lunge drew in a few more curves, blots and lines, mirrored it on the other side of the page and blocked in the colours. There. Filling in the last few spots, Lunge laid down his pen and held up his new makeshift Rorschach ink blot with a hooded smile. “What do you see?”
no subject
Just as he was certain that they had wandered back onto more sure territory with Javert, however, L’s questions took a… very strange turn. “That Javert?” He pressed his fingertips together lightly, mildly perplexed and more than a little irritated that he had apparently missed something obvious. Was the man an important historical figure? “I hadn’t heard the name before. However, he claims that he is from the nineteenth century.”
Claims. Had he not been so very aware of every word that passed his lips he would almost have missed that important little distinction. As trustworthy as the man had seemed to him (and as he would have liked to have thought he was), Javert was still under observation when it came to his perception of reality. More troubling, however, was that his story was becoming more and more plausible with every second he spent in this place.
Hmm.
He nodded as L explained his own ideas on the town, carefully storing them away with his own theories. “A purge?” Well, that was something new. He sat up a little straighter, leaning in over his art. “What do you know about it?”
“Looking into Doyle is one of my top priorities. Unfortunately, there isn’t much information about the man in circulation, but I’ve been told he was hardly an angel.” Javert again. “Given that his was the voice IDed as Landel’s attacker, I’m inclined to believe that. I’m also inclined to believe that he was possibly behind last night’s events.”
While L reached for the glitter, Lunge drew in a few more curves, blots and lines, mirrored it on the other side of the page and blocked in the colours. There. Filling in the last few spots, Lunge laid down his pen and held up his new makeshift Rorschach ink blot with a hooded smile. “What do you see?”