Edwin Jarvis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
edwinjarvis) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2017-03-22 03:11 pm
edwinjarvis) wrote in driftfleet2017-03-22 03:11 pm
Entry tags:
Voice/Action. Edwin, please, Mr. Jarvis is my father.
Who: Edwin Jarvis (as a small fella) and you!
Broadcast: Voice
Action: SS Tourist, SS Starstruck, Iskaulit
When: From about March 22nd, a week onward.
... Sorry Tourist, make your own food for the week.
SS TOURIST
[Jarvis' day is the same as it always is. He gets up, makes breakfast, does a bit of laundry and tidies the ship wherever he sees fit — then work at the bar, the gym visits, making a half-sea-food dinner, and so on. It's a normal week, yes? Or perhaps not. The next day, there is no breakfast. Then no tidying or laundry. Then no dinner. It seems, without having left the roster, Jarvis has all but vanished from the SS Tourist.
Or perhaps he hasn't quite vanished. For you see, hidden up under his bed as he's been for hours now is a small boy of about eight or nine, wearing a rather too large robe, his hands in anxious fists tucked up by his face. He hasn't come out yet, because his nerves are rather... fried. Yours would be too, if you were a small kid and you woke up suddenly in a steel trap of sorts! He is mortified and at a complete loss, and all he can assume is that he's been abducted. Perhaps a ransom! Oh, his mind dances through a million paranoid thoughts. His mum and dad must have bothered someone terribly. They must've closed a door in someone's face and they want revenge. This is a lair from a villainous hideout, it must be so.
His stomach gurgles but he holds steadfast, as he fidgets with the device in front of him. It had been on the desk beside his bed, and he was interested in what it could do — and some part of him knows, in theory, how it works. And that is very frightening, because he's never seen something like this before in his entire life!!
He slams down the device, frustrated tears blooming in his eyes.]
[Audio]
[A hushed voice:]
Oh, don't cry — don't cry now, it won't do any good...
[He sniffs hard, and seems to be steeling himself. For a moment.
Even so — ]
... I want to go home...
[Eventually, sooner or later, somehow, someway, he will be out from under that cursed bed of doom and gloom and sit a day late at the table in the kitchen. But he doesn't cook, or clean, or anything of the sort. He sits with his hands off the table (impolite to put them there), sitting straight in his chair, unsure if he should... be waiting for someone to come in and make food, or if he... needs to make his own...
He's not very good at making things, yet.
Eventually he does grab a plate of... a block of some kind of gel. He wrinkles his nose but eventually gives in, and though he thinks the taste is just terrible, he is determined to eat every bite; wasting food is unsightly. He's a good boy. He would never. So to enjoy it forcefully, he hums a little tune as he eats, swinging his feet just a little. Nobody is around to see his poor etiquette, so... it's okay to be a little less rigid at the table, right?]
SS STARSTRUCK / ISKAULIT
[AT SOME POINT... Peggy will sniff him out. Which is probably way sooner than later, but anyway. Edwin is terribly curious now, despite his anxiety surrounding this... impossible place. He had investigated the Starstruck's cargo bay with some interest. Some strange and frightening man with a habit of grunting answers gave him some delicious dessert, and he wandered freely with the promise of being the most well-behaved kid in all of space.
... Well, he did fiddle with the teleporter a bit...
And ended up aboard the Iskaulit rather abruptly.
Which sparked great panic in the hall of the ship.]
How do I go back?! Oh, I've mucked it up! Stupid, Edwin — they'll be so cross with me!
[If I hit buttons enough, will that fix the problem? No?
Okay, time to roam the ship nervously then.]
CATCH-ALL WILDCARD
[Have something that isn't in any of these categories? Wanna make a particular thread?
Hit me up and let me know, we can do something. :)]
Broadcast: Voice
Action: SS Tourist, SS Starstruck, Iskaulit
When: From about March 22nd, a week onward.
... Sorry Tourist, make your own food for the week.
SS TOURIST
[Jarvis' day is the same as it always is. He gets up, makes breakfast, does a bit of laundry and tidies the ship wherever he sees fit — then work at the bar, the gym visits, making a half-sea-food dinner, and so on. It's a normal week, yes? Or perhaps not. The next day, there is no breakfast. Then no tidying or laundry. Then no dinner. It seems, without having left the roster, Jarvis has all but vanished from the SS Tourist.
Or perhaps he hasn't quite vanished. For you see, hidden up under his bed as he's been for hours now is a small boy of about eight or nine, wearing a rather too large robe, his hands in anxious fists tucked up by his face. He hasn't come out yet, because his nerves are rather... fried. Yours would be too, if you were a small kid and you woke up suddenly in a steel trap of sorts! He is mortified and at a complete loss, and all he can assume is that he's been abducted. Perhaps a ransom! Oh, his mind dances through a million paranoid thoughts. His mum and dad must have bothered someone terribly. They must've closed a door in someone's face and they want revenge. This is a lair from a villainous hideout, it must be so.
His stomach gurgles but he holds steadfast, as he fidgets with the device in front of him. It had been on the desk beside his bed, and he was interested in what it could do — and some part of him knows, in theory, how it works. And that is very frightening, because he's never seen something like this before in his entire life!!
He slams down the device, frustrated tears blooming in his eyes.]
[Audio]
[A hushed voice:]
Oh, don't cry — don't cry now, it won't do any good...
[He sniffs hard, and seems to be steeling himself. For a moment.
Even so — ]
... I want to go home...
[Eventually, sooner or later, somehow, someway, he will be out from under that cursed bed of doom and gloom and sit a day late at the table in the kitchen. But he doesn't cook, or clean, or anything of the sort. He sits with his hands off the table (impolite to put them there), sitting straight in his chair, unsure if he should... be waiting for someone to come in and make food, or if he... needs to make his own...
He's not very good at making things, yet.
Eventually he does grab a plate of... a block of some kind of gel. He wrinkles his nose but eventually gives in, and though he thinks the taste is just terrible, he is determined to eat every bite; wasting food is unsightly. He's a good boy. He would never. So to enjoy it forcefully, he hums a little tune as he eats, swinging his feet just a little. Nobody is around to see his poor etiquette, so... it's okay to be a little less rigid at the table, right?]
SS STARSTRUCK / ISKAULIT
[AT SOME POINT... Peggy will sniff him out. Which is probably way sooner than later, but anyway. Edwin is terribly curious now, despite his anxiety surrounding this... impossible place. He had investigated the Starstruck's cargo bay with some interest. Some strange and frightening man with a habit of grunting answers gave him some delicious dessert, and he wandered freely with the promise of being the most well-behaved kid in all of space.
... Well, he did fiddle with the teleporter a bit...
And ended up aboard the Iskaulit rather abruptly.
Which sparked great panic in the hall of the ship.]
How do I go back?! Oh, I've mucked it up! Stupid, Edwin — they'll be so cross with me!
[If I hit buttons enough, will that fix the problem? No?
Okay, time to roam the ship nervously then.]
CATCH-ALL WILDCARD
[Have something that isn't in any of these categories? Wanna make a particular thread?
Hit me up and let me know, we can do something. :)]
audio
[That's a peculiar name. Very peculiar.]
I — I don't have any friends named Kitty.
[He would know; he has very few people he considers friends.]
This is like... a phone, isn't it?
audio
Yes, that's right. Like a phone. We can talk through it. What's your name?
audio
My name is Edwin, Miss Kitty.
How does it work... without any cords? Where is -- is the voice coming and going?
audio
I'm glad to meet you, Edwin.
It's converting to a signal that's traveling through invisible waves like a radio. It has a more compact power source like a battery so it doesn't need cords.
(OOC: Can I even science, bro? I don't know. But she can so she definitely said the right thing that was reduced enough for him to understand.)
audio
But I -- I think I can understand a little bit.
[He sounds flustered; no doubt, he's blushing where he is.]
I thought... um... that sounds go into one phone and out of another.
That it travels...
[He's an eight-year-old from the 1910's, technology is weird.]
audio
How old are you, Edwin?
audio
[At least of that he's sure.
He stares at the small device for a moment.]
Where are you, then? Where am I?
audio > video
I'm on my ship, the Twin Roses. If you turn your video on I can see where you are. [She turns hers on.] There's a button.
video
... Not very helpful, really.]
Like this...?
video
video
What if there are strangers who mean t'do harm?
[He's a very worried boy, okay. It's good to keep yourself safe.]
video
video
I'll come out.
[Slowly, he emerges, pointing the camera outward. There's a nicely kept suit hanging up in an open closet — what appears to be a bracelet on the desk nearby, along with some paper and a tub of beads and shell pieces. It's all very neat and clean and orderly, with a broom in the corner and a nice little rug.
Very Jarvis, anyway.
With a deep breath, he steps out into the hallway of the Tourist.
Just a little. One foot still in the safety of the room.]
video
You're on a ship called the Tourist. It's where some of my closest friends live. You're not in any danger. You can relax.
video
Does... does that mean you're on another ship? Are there... a lot?
video
Would it be okay if I come see you?
video
No, I would very much like some company, miss. I feel very... lost.
[Very literally.]
video
video
... Thank you, miss. I'll -- I'll stay put, and be good, I promise.
[And promises are meant to be kept.
Even if you're terribly afraid.]
video
video
[Maybe, umm.
He knocks the tune of Pop Goes the Weasel, hesitantly.
Would this do, miss?]
action
action
slowly
slooooowly
the door slides open, and his eye peeks out. The most uncertain green eye.]
... Miss Kitty?
action
action
I don't really... know who lives here, but I don't think I should be intruding on a grown-up's room...
action
action
action
action
action
action
action
Re: action
action
action
action
action
action