driftfleet | Open. Mingle post for the Tourist!

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 :))

Edited 2017-01-05 10:51 (UTC)

"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."

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?"

Edited (heeeerp deeeerp it's late and I forgot who's on what ship!) 2017-01-06 05:01 (UTC)

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."

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.

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.

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."

"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."

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?"

"Thanks."

She's surprised he's actually serving her waffles in addition to letting her have them at all. Sure, she did provide the waffle maker, but it was a gift. Her expression turns bemused when he points her out as not being a member of the crew. It's completely true, but she spends half her nights here and to her he felt like the out-of-place one even though he is her best friend.

"Already met everyone? I guess that makes sense. We've been at the hotel most of the time. I'm Kitty Pryde. Winn's girlfriend from he Windrose. I'm around a lot."

"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."

"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."

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)

"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."

[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?

Edited (what are words) 2017-01-08 07:33 (UTC)

"Oh, how marvelous. It's nice to hear that you have each other, even in a place like this."

He does look enthused by the idea, though wistful in his own right; after all, he's going such a long time without his dearest Ana. It's terrible. He looks a bit embarrassed as he sorts the condiments on the table — lined with a table cloth he'd purchased, just to keep the area warm and well-kept.

"... I've been keeping track of the roster, since everyone is currently preoccupied with stations and planets and whatnot. I apologize if I sounded unwelcoming, Miss Pryde."

"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.

"Thanks. It is." She can be silly in love at times over him. He takes the ruthless X-Man right out of her sails. "You'll find me here a lot."

She experiments with the condiments. Waffles are great for that. Grid-style eating. "It's not a problem. Best friends are very forgiving."

"Well. In that that case, welcome to the 'making edible food' club." Eugene comes around enough to offer his hand. Even with piping-hot waffles right there on the table, it's the least he can do when his erstwhile host is positively radiating manners. Besides, anyone else who understands how to actually use their flour rations is always someone he's glad to meet. "Eugene Woods. I'm the cook aboard the Wonderduck."

[Kitty usually spends at least half her nights on the Tourist, but ever since they got to the hotel it's only happened a couple of times. One of those times was over Christmas when she gifted the crew with a waffle maker she'd cobbled together and a few bottles of alcohol left in the kitchen.

She's here today to drop off some things she collected at the hotel that are more for Winn's place than hers. She figures they'll be moving on soon. She'll be sorry to leave. The hotel is her second favorite stop so far. Still, she's looking rested, relaxed. Maybe not quite as happy as she has been though. There had been so many losses before they got here and they were starting to pile up again with Remy, Pinkie Pie, and Cheese.]

(OOC: This can be used for all of January so just write a prompt that works for the current time whatever it is or hit me up at hauntedreality on plurk and I'll set something up for you!)

[ maybe it hurts so much because it hit him after such a high. maybe it was always going to hurt so much - to watch jim and kitty lose remy, to lose pinkie himself.

he needs to process the grief, so he heads back to the tourist, where he knows he can be left alone with everyone enjoying the hotel. he sits in his room and replays the video of his first encounter with pinkie - it was when he and cisco introduced karaokebowl for the honor of their local pizzas. he was so excited to meet an actual talking pink pony - he never thought then that she would come to be such a pillar of joy in his life.

when kitty comes in he's sitting crosslegged on the bed, clutching the doll pinkie gave him for hearth's warming in one hand, his communicator propped up against the pillow, replaying old messages, his eyes sparkling with tears he still doesn't let himself shed.

he jumps when he spots her, fumbling to turn the video off, clearing his throat and shoving the doll behind him. ]

Hey -- did we - [ he puts on a smile and tries to adopt a more casual tone. ] am I spoiling a surprise?

[Not expecting Winn to be on the ship she hadn't thought to give him any warning and just phased inside. He's not quick enough to erase all the signs of how he's feeling. And as hard as it is to see him sad, watching him smile to cover it up is just heartbreaking. She drops the bag she was carrying and sits down next to him, pulling him close and holding him securely. She doesn't answer his question just yet. She just needs to somehow protect him from whatever he's feeling that makes him look like that.]

[ it takes him a second to respond to the hug - but when he does he holds her tightly. ]

I'm okay. [ he speaks softly after a moment. he's not thrilled - but he's ok. he supposes he should consider himself lucky, it took a pretty long time for him to start losing the people he loves. and unlike sascha, at least he can hope that pinkie's gone home. ]

[Her fingers very gently smooth over his hair.] What's going on in there, guy I love? [While she'd assume Pinkie is at least a part of it she's not sure if that's the full story or not.]

I just hate that we keep losing people. And ponies.

[ he tries for a dumb joke, because that's what he always does. he's still extremely uncomfortable with showing his misery. ]

Open. Mingle post for the Tourist!

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

OTA

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject