[Act? Who says Javert is acting at all? He is a man who wears his soul on his sleeve. What you see is what you get.
Besides, the whole psychic-precognitive-sight-shit is half the issue. It is quite difficult to relate to other people on any decent level when he is always jumping ten feet ahead of them, without realizing he's doing so.
He blinks owlishly.]
Well, let me see, [he begins, eyes skewing toward the ceiling.] When I was young, I spent many springs and summers at a strict boarding camp. The other children didn't like a look about me, and I was left to myself. I did not mind this, even if it came off as a collective sortie. One day, I got an inkling, I had no proof and I was no beast-tamer, but I told the counselor to put the fire out before the stars twinkle because the wolves were coming and I could hear them. They called me a liar, "le loup who cried for wolves," and tucked me into some dark cabin as punishment. That night a freakish pack of wolves, drawn to the campfire and the smells of roasting meat, attacked five boys and two counselors, including the man I warned. I was promptly expelled from camp because I frightened them. "Emotionally disturbed" were the exact words. Possibly responsible for luring the wolves myself, I must've been raised by them. Of course! A perfectly entertaining theory for little brats. Raised by wolves for my first ten years.
[Somewhere during this extensive monologue, Javert lowered his eyes back to Philip.]
Two months later, I received my school letter and never returned. I later learned werewolves were involved. Nasty business!
no subject
Besides, the whole psychic-precognitive-sight-shit is half the issue. It is quite difficult to relate to other people on any decent level when he is always jumping ten feet ahead of them, without realizing he's doing so.
He blinks owlishly.]
Well, let me see, [he begins, eyes skewing toward the ceiling.] When I was young, I spent many springs and summers at a strict boarding camp. The other children didn't like a look about me, and I was left to myself. I did not mind this, even if it came off as a collective sortie. One day, I got an inkling, I had no proof and I was no beast-tamer, but I told the counselor to put the fire out before the stars twinkle because the wolves were coming and I could hear them. They called me a liar, "le loup who cried for wolves," and tucked me into some dark cabin as punishment. That night a freakish pack of wolves, drawn to the campfire and the smells of roasting meat, attacked five boys and two counselors, including the man I warned. I was promptly expelled from camp because I frightened them. "Emotionally disturbed" were the exact words. Possibly responsible for luring the wolves myself, I must've been raised by them. Of course! A perfectly entertaining theory for little brats. Raised by wolves for my first ten years.
[Somewhere during this extensive monologue, Javert lowered his eyes back to Philip.]
Two months later, I received my school letter and never returned. I later learned werewolves were involved. Nasty business!