Open. Mingle post for the Tourist!

[edwinjarvis]

Who: SS Tourist crew and visitors!
Broadcast: N/A
Action: SS Tourist
When: Through the month of January.

WE GOT A WAFFLE IRON FOR CHRISTMAS AND JARVIS IS GOING TO MAKE WAFFLES.

It's the only right way to start 2017.

(Everyone do top comments of stuff mkay.)

Comments

Breakfast at Tiffany's, only it's Jarvis and not Hepburn.

[edwinjarvis]

Mr. Jarvis has - once settled and ready - has realized too swiftly that he'll be without nearly as much to do as he had in Stark's mansion. It makes sense; Howard is rather needy. Regardless, he knows that he'll have to do something with himself before he climbs the wall! Other than sign up to help with the kitchen at The Space Bar and pursuing small odd jobs at the Corsiva as a waiter or housekeeper in private, he hasn't done much aboard the Tourist herself.

Which is a shame, he thinks!! He needs to be more of a valuable player here and do his part. It's only fair. And thanks to a gift-giver he isn't even aware of yet, he has just the thing! A waffle iron. Excellent. He's not sure how it got here, but it'll do.

The crew can come in to the lovely smell of waffles, imbued with the rich taste of a fruit from the gardens aboard the Iskaulit. Taken with permission, of course, and very much tasty. He's creating a stack on the table for those coming and going to take as they please. No worries, it smells heavenly, and he is confident that they'll be just what the crew needs.

Sure, the rest of the food around here is dreadful, but Jarvis has been experimenting, and he's nothing if not both patient and willing to taste-test the duds. Next he's hoping for more complicated works. Perhaps pies made from mucking around with these disgustingly gelled cubes he's found. Hmmmm.

Anyway, eat up, don't mind the fella with the apron mixing batter.

Absently to himself, "I do so wish I had a decent radio with some decent tunes."

... Maybe he'll make some of this synthetic bacon. Is that what this is? It hardly seems edible. He's going to have to mess around with ingredients tremendously before he serves such a thing. It would disgrace him.

(ooc: if you have any wildcards you want played out, just lemme know :))

[passingthrough]

"What smells so good?" Kitty asks before she makes it into the kitchen. If she were on the Windrose the thought of Vision—when he was still here—cooking for the crew was normal enough. And then Winn being the people pleaser that he is could be doing some cooking, but she just left him in his room. When she enters her eyes widen at the sight.

"So many waffles." Sorry, Jarvis. Priorities. You understand. Suddenly the gift she gave the crew here seems so much more genius. She finally looks over to the cook.

"You must be my new best friend."

[edwinjarvis]

Jarvis looks crossed between surprised and humbled — indeed, he takes good pride in pretty much whatever he's attempting to achieve for the day. Waffles are by no means a difficult job, but he puts his complete focus into making sure it's a fitting breakfast. The whole reason he'd scoured the shops aboard the Corsiva was for a decent topping; in the end, there's a jar of fine jelly — not any fruit you'd recognize, but he tested it for comparing notes; it's not too bad.

He smiles, pleasant.

"You flatter me, miss, but they're simply waffles. I apologize for the simplicity."

[passingthrough]

"It's too early for complexity, best friend." She even yawns as if to drive home the point and takes a seat. "Are you sharing? If you're not then I'm going to have to retract your title. It's your choice. You just need to know the stakes."

[edwinjarvis]

Oh, don't be silly. He puts down a plate in front of her from a nice little stack he has on the counter, placing different condiments down within her reach. It's done as if this is a very normal part of his day-to-day schedule.

(Which it is.)

"I would hate to lose a title; please enjoy, I can hardly put this all away on my own."

Hm.

"You're not a member of the crew. Company of someone here, I take it?"

[survivalistcookbook]

Eugene is not exactly crew. But he is a man with a certain amount of opportunism, never mind a belated spirit of the holidays that has him going ship to ship, covertly Secret Santa-ing across the vessels he can't recall having a cook.

Unfortunately for the "secret" part of that, he's also a man with a crutch and a shiny metal prosthetic that takes over at mid-thigh and extends down to a somewhat loud C-curve of a foot, so he's pretty hard to miss as he makes his way into the kitchen, bag slung over his shoulder and face lifted to sniff at the the unmistakable and completely unexpected odour of caramelising and leavened carbohydrates. The guy in the apron seems a likely culprit. The guy standing in front of-

"-holy cow, is that a waffle iron?"

[edwinjarvis]

"Indeed it is; might you be hungry?"

He turns as he speaks, one plate stacked as he sets it down on the table. He's a strange sort - very relaxed, very socially comfortable, and yet very formal. The signs of a focused butler, really. Even if he's technically unemployed here, he's not about to slow down; he enjoys working, enjoys doing for others.

So waffles for all it is.

"It's a marvelous waffle iron, works like a charm."

[survivalistcookbook]

"Oh- wow, thanks." He half-laughs, still amazed by the sheer novelty of waffles on one of the ships. "You have no idea how tempted I am, but I really shouldn't take food from your crew."

It feels like a silly little offering now, bringing baked goods when they already have a guy working a waffle iron. So he leaves the parcel in its bag as it is, leaning his elbows on the table. "I didn't know the Tourist had a cook now."

[edwinjarvis]

"Nonsense! I've made too many as it is; please, take some, I insist."

He adjusts his apron, looking a bit self-conscious.

"I'm — not a cook, admittedly. Not by rank. But prior to my arrival I had done quite a bit of cooking myself. At the risk of sounding overtly smug, I'd say I'm quite good at it."

Stark has a few chefs here and there, but Jarvis would be a subpar butler if he couldn't prepare a decent quiche.

[universal_charm]

It was a bad day when even the smell of waffles couldn't make Kirk feel better. Waffles were his second favorite breakfast food, after pancakes (considering you could make them from the same batter, they were just cooked slightly differently). He hadn't thought anyone on the ship would every bother making something like that except himself, and the smell had drawn him more than anything.

"You'll have to define decent," he said in way of reply, going to their coffee machine and petting it. "Please, just work today." A button, a grumble, and thankfully the machine worked, as if sensing Kirk's lack of patience and levity.

As it brewed, Kirk glanced to Jarvis. "Sorry, you're the new guy that got assigned to us, right? I'm Kirk, the captain." He held out his hand to him. "Welcome aboard, and thanks for cooking breakfast."

[edwinjarvis]

"Ah, yes, Captain Kirk — a pleasure. I'm new aboard the ship, a pilot for the crew. Edwin Jarvis — Jarvis will do just fine." He reaches out, shaking the hand firmly and formally, and then once released he turns his attention toward the coffee machine with some measure of interest. "Has the coffee machine been acting out, then?"

He could probably make sure it runs like a dream.

"I could make a pot for the crew as well, if you don't mind; I'd like to get a feel for the machinery."

[universal_charm]

"Jarvis," he greeted in return, noting the simple formality of the shake. Army, perhaps? Some sort of military? The man held himself straight and properly, and had the sort of air about him that Kirk associated with, well, importance. Whether that meant Jarvis himself was important or something else, Kirk wasn't quite sure.

"Oh, it's temperamental," he shrugged. "If you sing it one of the songs that Melkor left behind, it usually plays nice for awhile. You're welcome to try your hand at it. I did before, but it didn't seem to do much. But sure, by all means, make a pot. I'm sure everyone would appreciate it, including me."

He gave Jarvis a tired smile as the coffee maker took pity on him and began to gargle out a beverage.

[edwinjarvis]

Ew. It sounds like the first drafts of Mr. Stark's inventions.

He looks concerned at the mortality rate of the coffee machine, but ah, that'll be an undertaking for another time. He moves to clean up any mess left over from his cooking spree, letting Kirk have whatever he'd like of the waffle stack on the table; it's quite a party, you see.

"I'm relatively handy at repairing kitchen appliances. I'll do my best, in other words." But conversation! Not just about coffee machines on their last legs, at that. "You've been here long, Captain?"

[wolfuncaged]

Though Fenris is quite at home on the Tourist, he still moves around the place like a ghost at times. He certainly never goes out of his way to befriend newcomers. That usually comes in time. Still, that sure is a delicious smell of breakfasty goodness coming from the kitchen.

As such, Jarvis will suddenly find a grumpy elf skulking about into the kitchen, peering at the food that's being prepared. He does glance up, though, giving a soft, amused hum.

"I would not say that too loudly. You'll make Kirk play his 'music' again."

He absolutely used finger-quotes.

[edwinjarvis]

Jarvis makes a face, as if imagining the worst screeching of violins at that.

"I'll keep that in mind, in this case."

He motions to the table, intricately set with plates, jams, and other condiments. None quite like earth's, not exactly, but he was sure to make sure they were all up to his standards; as a man who cares for a rich man, the bar is a bit higher. He made due.

"Please, sit, have as much as you'd like if you enjoy waffles. I could attempt to whip up something more to your liking if you would like."

(servant mode a-go, all serious business)

[wolfuncaged]

Even worse. The Beastie Boys. As far as Fenris is concerned, they sound like a bag of upset cats being thrown repeatedly against a wall. Not what he'd call music in the least.

He looks at the table again, hesitating before sitting down. Still, he just stares at the food, brow furrowed, before he looks back at Jarvis, head canted a little, eyes narrowed. He seems to be making a measure of the man.

"...You know, you do not have to do this. It is...good of you, but such work is not a requirement to live here."

He, more than anyone, is horribly aware of the thing line between servant and slave, and quite frankly, he feels like the Tourist needs neither. It doesn't help he really doesn't enjoy being waited on. It doesn't feel right.

[edwinjarvis]

Jarvis turns to Fenris, not confused, per se — mildly surprised by the concern from a stranger, maybe. It's really kind of the man to be concerned for his well-being, but Jarvis is quite assured within himself that he's not over-extending his work. Far from it! He's starved for it. With a little smile to reinforce, he shakes his head.

"No, it's quite alright! I'm a bit of a busybody, and I fear without a master of the house I'm very much restless, so anything to help the passengers aboard the Fleet will satisfy me. Please — do eat, before they grow cold."

He turns to clean the counter as he speaks.

[partialities]

You can always try your hand at singing.

[ the little queen has not gone inside the kitchen. rather, she lingers at the doorway, waiting to be invited in. margaery is not quite like the rest of the crew, in her gown and silk slippers and in her speech, she is entirely medieval. modernity has not touched the way she presents herself. she is still a queen to be of seven kingdom and she cannot make it seem that she has moved past that. ]


It has been quite some time since I have heard a song.

[edwinjarvis]

[Likewise, Margaery, Jarvis is quite an interestingly dressed crew member — perfectly suited, tie neat and tucked, hair slicked back with utmost care for professionalism. Truth be told, she's probably more in his bracket than anyone aboard the ship. He notes some semblance of royalty by the quality of the dress alone, and is wary not to make a bad impression as he turns and bows just slightly.]

I would sing had I any ability to please the ear, madam. As it is, I think I'll have to appeal to one's nose instead; might you be hungry?

[partialities]

Can one of those be for me, then?

[ and just like that, she walks inside. there is a contrast; she is absolutely regal in the way she carries herself but also playful, a creature of mischief and little joys, almost too earnest and open to be a queen.

the rose of highgarden offers a little curtsy before taking a seat. ]

What are they?

[edwinjarvis]

[Oh, so polite!! There's not enough of that anymore these days.

Especially not in Stark's manor. :|

He happily gives his full nod of approval.]

Absolutely, madam. There's plenty enough to go around.

[BUT TO NOT KNOW WAFFLES! You poor soul.]

They're called waffles. Made from batter and cooked through. I prefer pancakes myself; waffles are a bit more crispy and rigid. [He motions to the collection of breakfast condiments.] They taste wonderful with syrup or whipped cream, perhaps some fruit or jellies. They're also quite delicious with fruits or chocolate cooked inside the batter.

[Jarvis never goes halfway with explanations when it comes to food!!]

[notmutantbutmiracle]

Wanda had come to the Tourist in search of Kitty, but she's pleasantly surprised to find Jarvis first. Even more so to find him at work in the kitchen apparently cooking up something smelling absolutely delicious.

"Something smells good."

This is especially impressive given the materials that they often had to work with in the fleet when it came to cooking. It seemed the Tourist had gained a rather talented chef. How can Wanda not be a little envious?

When they'd first met, Wanda did not have any of her memories. When they returned to her, she retained everything from that first month of confusion. She's hoping that perhaps this time she might make a better impression on Jarvis.

[edwinjarvis]

"Then I must be on to something," he replies without hesitation, pouring the last of the batter into the machine. Jarvis would be far too humble to ever say he's a talented chef, not out loud, but he is admittedly confident in his abilities to make a wonderful souffle. He recalls speaking to her during his stay on the Marsiva - and he is very much welcoming her company here now! In person meetings are always better, right?

He looks over with a pleasant expression, quite the mother hen in his element.

"Have you been well, Miss Maximoff?"

[notmutantbutmiracle]

"Doing better now, actually."

She mirrors his pleasant expression. She takes a seat in the kitchen, content to wait here and talk with Jarvis. There was the possibility Kitty would walk by, and Wanda could catch her then. In the meantime though, she did want to try and "start over" with Mr. Jarvis.

"I know that when we first spoke I probably seemed a little... off."

Jarvis was new to the fleet. The whole prospect of augment glitches likely is still completely new to him. While she does want to explain her behavior, she doesn't want to unsettle the new arrival anymore than he already may have been.

[edwinjarvis]

"Off? I'm afraid I wouldn't have known," He relinquishes his busybody work in favor of giving her his full attention, turning to the kitchen table and untying his little waist-apron. Appropriately stitched together himself when he realized the kitchen didn't have any of his caliber. "Everything was very 'off' when I woke up, you see. Were you alright?"