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[magicalglowstick]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, SHARTAN. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 *** SHARTAN has joined 018.07.154.55 <SHARTAN> speak

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[magicalglowstick]

of course, ser javert

[Just a simple reply to let Javert know he received the message. Naturally, Fenris arrives at the office — exactly ten o'clock, no sooner, no later.

He focuses on his duty, and the fact that Javert has something for him, in order to ignore the sickening feeling in his stomach. Not at the photos in particular. Fenris has seen many grotesque things, that of which he still sometimes dreams about, even the things he can't remember that end up as fleeting nightmares he loses after being awake too long. The sickening feeling stems more from what this could possible mean, more than anything. The fact that his partner was targeted.]

Ser.

[He nods his head in greeting as soon as he arrives and stands at the ready, as if immediately awaiting instruction upon entering Javert's office.]

[inseine]

[Javert is standing with his back to the door, polaroids meticulously arranged on a cork board at the back wall. There are three discrete scenes arranged, left to right, oldest to most recent. Each set of photographs conveys the scene as a witness would see them, if he were to walk in and find the arrangement of corpses set in the room. He turns when he hears and smells Fenris's approach, sharp gaze snapping to meet his subordinate's.

He does not greet him. Instead he gestures to the photos with a sideways jerk of his head.]

Tell me what you see.

[magicalglowstick]

[As soon as Fenris spots the small pictures his eyes go just a touch wider, as his mouth opens an inch further, not shocked exactly...the way his lips immediately shut back into a tight line makes it clear that he's holding back frustration, familiarity flashing in his eyes. He doesn't waste time when Javert asks him a question. He steps forward to examine them further, and just as he expected them to be, they were every bit as gratuitously displayed close up.

He recognizes the man in the last photo immediately as one of the poachers, which prompts him to reach into one of his satchels to pull out a few of the pictures Rafe had taken of a similar macabre display as these. Well, similar in...tone.]

That man in last one is a poacher, is he not? [He doesn't know if that's what Javert wants him to see or not; all Fenris can see is the work of a twisted soul who needs to be put down as swiftly as a swatted fly. Admittedly this brings back far too many memories, similar yet still different enough that the uncertainty unsettles him, but he tries to keep a level head for the sake of his work.

He turns to Javert and holds out the group of pictures Rafe had taken. Naturally, there's nothing recognizable about bits of limbs and organs, but the last picture does have the head of a recognizable poacher mounted on a sword.]

In front of the 38-8. A poacher as well.