[OPEN] A Day in the Life of Edwin "Charm" Jarvis

[edwinjarvis]

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.

( read the rest of this captivating day )

Closed

[kill_switch]

Who: Furiosa & Gemini
Broadcast: n/a
Action: Starstruck
When: Today

[Furiosa could never quite tell what was going to trigger a hallucination; they seemed to occur without provocation that she could tell, and last anywhere from a flash of a moment to a few minutes (although they could almost feel like an eternity, either way). Sometimes, it was one simple, single thing from her past; an overwhelming smell of oil and gunpowder, the sound of wind over sand, or the feeling of a harsh sun at her back. Sometimes, as she found sitting with Max, people from her past would find their ways into the people of her present.]

[Those were the ones that were hardest to pull herself out of. It was so easy to lose herself in the memory of the person, become enveloped by the feelings associated with them. As such, she made it a point to keep away from people as much as possible. She spent most of her time resting in Max's quarters (or rather, storage area), and venturing out only for necessities. It wasn't a particularly stimulating existance, but she told herself it was temporary, and the less she ran into people the less chance of loosing herself to her past.]

[But, it's a small ship with its own crew and it's only a matter of time before the inevitable happens and she runs into someone else.]

tinglin for a minglin

[geonomy]

Who: Vanquish crew and visitors!
Broadcast: Nah?
Action: On the Vanquish and around the planet!
When: Right meow, and also for March

[Vanquish crew? Up to things? It's more likely than you think.

Get in here, it's time for a mingle!]

（ ００１ ｜ ＶＩＤＥＯ ＋ ＴＥＸＴ ）

[perfecting]

Who: Nancy Wheeler and you;
Broadcast: yes
Action: n/a - Marsiva
When: current.

( A; VIDEO )

[ the video opens, abruptly, to what is undoubtedly the marsiva. The girl who walks into the frame, her back to the camera is on the younger side. When she turns, a few things might be easily concluded. This is a teenager - pale face, blue eyes, a golden necklace of two ballet slippers, tightening her dark jacket over her sweater.

Unaware of the camera, she will lift a bandaged palm and neatly undo the bandages, inspecting a well-healed palm. Look closely and you might notice a thin, pale scar just in the middle of her palm before she'll tighten her hand into a fist.

She's entirely alone, it would seem. Nothing but the eerie, cheerful music of the Marsiva. Looking around at the food and drinks, she breathes a little faster. Her alarm is quiet; there is no hysteria or panic - but there is certainly fear.

And apparently, anger. A moment later she will catch a glass and throw it onto the floor, smashing it. When no response comes, something will snap and methodically, she will begin throwing and smashing plates and glasses, pushing aside cots, toppling them over and when this surge of quiet anger stops -

nothing. but this lack of response seems to unnerve her and she bends over, picks up a broken shred and holds onto it, as if she is still awaiting an attack from an unknown party. ]


( B; TEXT )

[ several hours later, most of which were spent watching the messages on the network and trying ( and failing ) to understand their meaning, she seems to understand this is a mean of communication of a sort. but then, how? if there is no one with her?

figuring this works like a phone of a sort, only with words, she will send a single word out, a tentative, unsure attempt: ]

Hello?