Father Pearse J. Harman (
witchfinder_general) wrote2014-09-01 12:42 am
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OOM: Javert in London for the scond time
It' the same featureless blue corridor as before, but this time, there are still people about in it.
Nobody, however, is paying any attention to them: two women with papers under their arms are chatting to each other, and a man is wheeling a trolley of scientific equipment into an open door.
Father Harman holds the door of the supply closet open for Javert.
Nobody, however, is paying any attention to them: two women with papers under their arms are chatting to each other, and a man is wheeling a trolley of scientific equipment into an open door.
Father Harman holds the door of the supply closet open for Javert.
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That could be problematic, he imagines.
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Some things never change, and a strong work ethic is one of them.
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Father Harman is a friendly and understanding person, a good priest with infinite tolerance -- but the moment vampires come into play, he turns into steel and stone.
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He likes Father Harman as a priest and a man, and automatically respects him because of his profession. But he finds he also rather likes the version made of steel. It reminds him more of his kind of religion, even if the cause of his resolve is vampires, and not stupid sinners.
'Any cost at all, Father?'
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Harman, he feels, would have made a good policeman.
'Mankind always needs its guardians, so long as they do not abuse the position. And you will not.'
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'They should be able to watch themselves.'
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He does, entirely. He held himself to the highest of standards, but would never overstep the boundaries laid out by his superiors.
'And yet, a man should take responsibility for himself. If he does not think he can do such a job on his own merits, he should not take it.'
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While he has all the tolerance in the world for other people and their fallibility, his own attitude towards duty is rather like Javert's.
"If somebody knows about vampires, though, and has any skills that can help fight them, we need to retain their services, so we have to walk a fine line. But whoever can't deal with the rigorous self-control this kind of access and power demands of us must be put into a place where they have no chance of abusing their power, and the latitude a position in our team might give them."
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He does not know what to think about that, if it is true. His initial reaction is that it is only good sense, but then he remembers that his judgement is not to be trusted.
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'I see. You simply hope they are decent enough to behave as they should.'
That is possibly not wise, but again, this is not his world.
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He should know that Harman would not. But there, he is very intent on his work, and who knows what that might do to a person?
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He pushes it away.
'Vampires are dead,' he says, almost to himself. And remembers that yes, Dracula had felt dead to the touch. But he was not, was he? He had never actually been killed...or perhaps he had. Abel was not clear on the subject, and he had not wanted to know, and now it is hazy in his mind.
'Yes. It is as it should be.'
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But he comes from a time where disease is rife as it is, vampires or no.
'I have never heard of otherwise, but I will take you at your word.'
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He stops. "We have to cross the street here."
Traffic is infinitely more busy than it was the other time, at night.
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'Do they never stop?'
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He's waiting at the curb, peering.
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