Edwin Jarvis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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driftfleet2017-02-25 09:34 am
edwinjarvis) wrote in driftfleet2017-02-25 09:34 am
Entry tags:
[OPEN] A Day in the Life of Edwin "Charm" Jarvis
Who: Edwin Jarvis and You!
Broadcast: N/A
Action: tourist, iskaulit, planetside, all over.
When: IDK sometime lately.
5:00 AM — Rise and Shine!
The Edwin Jarvis rises from its slumber. He makes a routine to check the devices to make sure nobody has exploded or broken their bones since he went to bed; most of the time, everything is quite alright. He makes himself a little tea and peruses. It's a shame these devices don't have those Emojis. They're very cute, really. He makes a mental note to ask someone more technologically advanced about this endeavor.
7:00 AM — Breakfast.
He moves to make breakfast for the crew, well-aware some of them will probably prefer sleeping more and having cold eggs later. Omelettes are on the menu today, thanks to the garden and the planet-side visit giving him a bit more to work with. There is also, while they're in the company of said planet, sausages to go with it, and a sweet syrup that isn't too unlike the kind from earth, albeit with a sort of lemony aftertaste.
What is more concerning is the fact that the plates and food all begin floating as he sets the table. Floating! He is trying his best to recollect everything. But, um. It's gone full-on space in here with our stuff. It seems Jarvis has been effected by a glitch temporarily; his good mood has gone and caused everything to defy gravity!
"Oh — get — back here — " he huffs, jumping for a pan and being, despite his great height of 6'3", unable to reach it at the moment.
... Well, still. Lets not let the food go to waste.
9:00 AM — Gym.
His important regiment of exercise and practicing hand-to-hand combat has not fallen by the wayside. Clad in a jumpsuit that has the sleeves tied around his waist (not nearly so great for imperative range of motion, but it will suffice), he practices general weights, boxing with an easy opponent (why, the punching bag, of course), and perhaps finds himself pining for fencing supplies here. He takes a mental note to ask someone of a blacksmith's background if they could make fencing supplies.
10:00 AM — Gardening.
Jarvis has made it his life's goal to begin a herbal garden.
And it must be so. He plucks weeds from the overall garden itself and then gets right to work; while he may not be able to plant all Earth-related forms of plantlife, he has found a decent few seeds that will at least help him to spice up his cooking more than usual.
11:00 AM — Planetary Visits.
Jarvis visits the Co'Kal. Lovely group of — birdhorsepeople!
"... They look suspiciously like the potoo bird. Is that just me?"
Later, one of those potoobirdhorsepeople hit on him.
He is mortified, but he does wrangle down the price on some promising dinner supplies.
1:00 PM — Work.
At The Space Bar, he works in the back — cleaning, mostly, and cooking light meals for lunchtime. Though he does do serving as well, and really, is this any different from home? It may be more people than a Howard Stark in his lonely little bubble of him and the Jarvises, but there are less... giggling... hardworking Hollywood production staff.
He's more than happy to visit here, though. And look at the new alien alcohol like it's the devil incarnate.
Not worse than a flamingo, but still.
6:00 PM — Dinnertime.
Tourist, he's returned! This time bearing gifts. Something delectable that smells like chicken, actually. The Co'Kal that hit on him sold him some wonderful sandbirds, which are actually very delicious. Everyone be on time if you want some; it will make the whole ship smell heavenly, regardless, and it's in moments like these he feels very blissful. Carrot-like vegetables are being steamed and peppered, and mashed potatoes, synthetic but not so terrible once they're whipped with some substitute supplies, are in a nice large pot.
And yes, Peggy, he will bring you a plate.
7:00 PM — Crafts.
He is damned determined to make these lovely scales into something, though. The sandbird is prized for these scales — and they would make wonderful jewelry. He sits at the kitchen table after dinner has ended, his spectacles on and his attention deeply focused in making a pair of earrings. Simply because... why not? Let us not be wasteful.
"Oh, blasted thing," he mumbles, though hardly stops as he punches a hole through the thick scaling with a steady hand.
8:00 PM — Reading time.
Another careful combing of the network, to make sure nobody has exploded or broken any bones.
Two ships have dramatically smashed into each other, but they're totally okay.
Jolly good.
9:00 PM — Sleep.
He slips out of his carefully kept suit, exchanges them for nightclothes, and slips into his bed.
With a kiss of his ring, he reaches out and turns off the light, ignoring the impulse to roll towards the left; it's not a queen bed, after all.
"Goodnight, dearest."
He will do his best tomorrow as well, just for you.
Broadcast: N/A
Action: tourist, iskaulit, planetside, all over.
When: IDK sometime lately.
5:00 AM — Rise and Shine!
The Edwin Jarvis rises from its slumber. He makes a routine to check the devices to make sure nobody has exploded or broken their bones since he went to bed; most of the time, everything is quite alright. He makes himself a little tea and peruses. It's a shame these devices don't have those Emojis. They're very cute, really. He makes a mental note to ask someone more technologically advanced about this endeavor.
7:00 AM — Breakfast.
He moves to make breakfast for the crew, well-aware some of them will probably prefer sleeping more and having cold eggs later. Omelettes are on the menu today, thanks to the garden and the planet-side visit giving him a bit more to work with. There is also, while they're in the company of said planet, sausages to go with it, and a sweet syrup that isn't too unlike the kind from earth, albeit with a sort of lemony aftertaste.
What is more concerning is the fact that the plates and food all begin floating as he sets the table. Floating! He is trying his best to recollect everything. But, um. It's gone full-on space in here with our stuff. It seems Jarvis has been effected by a glitch temporarily; his good mood has gone and caused everything to defy gravity!
"Oh — get — back here — " he huffs, jumping for a pan and being, despite his great height of 6'3", unable to reach it at the moment.
... Well, still. Lets not let the food go to waste.
9:00 AM — Gym.
His important regiment of exercise and practicing hand-to-hand combat has not fallen by the wayside. Clad in a jumpsuit that has the sleeves tied around his waist (not nearly so great for imperative range of motion, but it will suffice), he practices general weights, boxing with an easy opponent (why, the punching bag, of course), and perhaps finds himself pining for fencing supplies here. He takes a mental note to ask someone of a blacksmith's background if they could make fencing supplies.
10:00 AM — Gardening.
Jarvis has made it his life's goal to begin a herbal garden.
And it must be so. He plucks weeds from the overall garden itself and then gets right to work; while he may not be able to plant all Earth-related forms of plantlife, he has found a decent few seeds that will at least help him to spice up his cooking more than usual.
11:00 AM — Planetary Visits.
Jarvis visits the Co'Kal. Lovely group of — birdhorsepeople!
"... They look suspiciously like the potoo bird. Is that just me?"
Later, one of those potoobirdhorsepeople hit on him.
He is mortified, but he does wrangle down the price on some promising dinner supplies.
1:00 PM — Work.
At The Space Bar, he works in the back — cleaning, mostly, and cooking light meals for lunchtime. Though he does do serving as well, and really, is this any different from home? It may be more people than a Howard Stark in his lonely little bubble of him and the Jarvises, but there are less... giggling... hardworking Hollywood production staff.
He's more than happy to visit here, though. And look at the new alien alcohol like it's the devil incarnate.
Not worse than a flamingo, but still.
6:00 PM — Dinnertime.
Tourist, he's returned! This time bearing gifts. Something delectable that smells like chicken, actually. The Co'Kal that hit on him sold him some wonderful sandbirds, which are actually very delicious. Everyone be on time if you want some; it will make the whole ship smell heavenly, regardless, and it's in moments like these he feels very blissful. Carrot-like vegetables are being steamed and peppered, and mashed potatoes, synthetic but not so terrible once they're whipped with some substitute supplies, are in a nice large pot.
And yes, Peggy, he will bring you a plate.
7:00 PM — Crafts.
He is damned determined to make these lovely scales into something, though. The sandbird is prized for these scales — and they would make wonderful jewelry. He sits at the kitchen table after dinner has ended, his spectacles on and his attention deeply focused in making a pair of earrings. Simply because... why not? Let us not be wasteful.
"Oh, blasted thing," he mumbles, though hardly stops as he punches a hole through the thick scaling with a steady hand.
8:00 PM — Reading time.
Another careful combing of the network, to make sure nobody has exploded or broken any bones.
Two ships have dramatically smashed into each other, but they're totally okay.
Jolly good.
9:00 PM — Sleep.
He slips out of his carefully kept suit, exchanges them for nightclothes, and slips into his bed.
With a kiss of his ring, he reaches out and turns off the light, ignoring the impulse to roll towards the left; it's not a queen bed, after all.
"Goodnight, dearest."
He will do his best tomorrow as well, just for you.
Breakfast
...Perhaps it would be better to count your losses?
[Jarvis, breakfast clearly isn't happening right now. It's okay to admit defeat. ]
no subject
[... Jarvis, it's breakfast, not a war. But he is adamant and his brow is drawn with great focus as he uses a bowl to trap an omelette onto a plate.]
Ha! There.
[He holds it over to Fenris, still with the lid on top.]
Do be sure to not let the beast out unless your fork is ready.
[He's gonna chase the rest.]
no subject
This is serious. This is WAR. ]
I am ready.
no subject
[So proud of you, Fenris. He starts to recollect synthetic milk back into a cup with partial success.]
What is even the cause of these cursed effects?
no subject
If I had to make a guess, I would suggest it was your augment. They have been acting strangely of late.
no subject
[He prods at the bump at the back of his neck near his ear, frowning.]
I wonder what on earth could be setting them off all at once.
Does this happen often? Large amounts of glitching at once?
[Look out for the syrup floating near your head, buddy.]
no subject
Very rarely. Usually they happen to just individuals. I think I can only remember one other time where it happened en-masse like this.
no subject
What was that other time, if I may be so bold as to ask?
[As he hippity hops to grab a spatula trying to flee.]
no subject
[He'll eat his egg happily, thank you. He might reach out to fork an errant sausage, though.]
no subject
[He's got his spatula back, hell yeah.]
Whatever could it be now...? Maybe we've upset them. A punishment of sorts, yet still a means for them to get their... 'ratings'.
no subject
[Also the lights but still. ]
I would not wish to guess. They could have multitudes of reasons, but chances are, they are doing it for the entertainment of it.
no subject
[He seems... unconvinced, though.]
How can we be sure any of this is actually for entertainment, though?
no subject
[He sits back. ]
The world I was taken to before this one had an organisation called the United Earth- an army attempting to conquer the universe. This sort of thing would not be beyond them.
no subject
[But he supposes he should be used to groups trying to conquer things.
Really now, though. They need to get a life.]
Mmhm, quite. And I fear they're not using augments solely to implant information, but to record it as well. Perhaps from our worlds.
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[HARRUMPH. Jarvis is not a fan of those people, especially coming off fresh from World War II.]
Do you have to deal with them often?
no subject
We did, we were constantly trying to outplay them through time.
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Does that mean this place is a bit quiet, to you?
It seems to be as such for other members of the fleet, anyway.
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I feel silly complaining in comparison.
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Much appreciated. You've got a good head about you there.
I try not to complain too much, though... Being alive and well is a gift. Having others who are alive and well around you is no different. Wouldn't you agree?
no subject
That is very true. Simply having breath in your lungs, knowing those you care for are the same. Sometimes, it is all you can hope for- especially when your situations can be rather...dangerous.
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