Voice/Action. Edwin, please, Mr. Jarvis is my father.

[edwinjarvis]

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. :)]

Comments

[mucked]

I'd expect no less. [ but that sounds a little harsh, doesn't it? the adult mister jarvis would be able to read the delicate balance between her words -- find the humour. and, she'd hope, the admiration for his dogged determination. but a child is something else: a different creature entirely.

peggy relents a little. ] Doubtless, you're a far better pianist than me. I only know that one song where you roll your knuckles over the black keys. I think all children must know it by instinct.

[edwinjarvis]

[He smiles, a bit forced.]

I guess so.

[He opens his mouth, closes it. He only just met her, and even though she's family, sometimes family is hardly a reason to open up. Especially when that family may be disapproving of what you have to say. But...]

If I tell you a secret, would you... tell my parents?

[mucked]

[ -- an almost laughable question. but to him, she realizes. and so peggy leans in to touch a finger gently to the boy's chest, dotting him right above his heart. ]

Never, Edwin. I am very good at keeping secrets.

[edwinjarvis]

[He purses his lips, feeling more confident in telling her...

Even if it's downright heresy. Not that he particularly knows the word for it.]

Well... It's just... father is very smart, and very good at a lot of things. He's a maths— a mathematician, you know. He teaches people things, and it all looks a bit silly to me when I look at it, but I know it's very smart numbers on the board.

And he wants me to be very smart and good at things like him...

But I don't much like math... or the piano. Or fencing.

[mucked]

[ she'd known already, of course. not the details -- never the details. but the shape of the conundrum had always been simple to see. it had only taken mister jarvis's insistence over family in their last blow-out to really see the pieces fit into place. what else but a radical difference in opinion could drive so dogged a man so very far from his family? edwin and ana jarvis never had to settle in america, of all places. but peggy understood for a while now that howard stark had made a deeper connection to the man than many others ever could.

sympathy suffuses her features. it's hard not to feel it now that it's all out in the open, easier to read than it ever was before. ]

What do you like? I promise I won't tell.

1/2

[edwinjarvis]

[Oh, he's so, so very hesitant.

He curls his hands on the tails of the robe's soft belt, quiet.

But slowly, things come to mind.]

... I like gardening. And watching my grandmum make things — I help her sometimes, you know... Sometimes, when she makes supper. I like jumping rope or — or hopscotch. And I like putting all of father's books back in order, and I like... being helpful.

[He flusters.]

I suppose I don't know a whole lot of useful things, though.

[edwinjarvis]

[He chins up, trying to be more positive.

He can be a bit sour sometimes. His mum tells him to keep a happy demeanor.]

But I'm very good at picking vegetables from granny's garden!

[mucked]

[ -- when she smiles now it's with complete and utter affection for a man who isn't present. although the boy is sitting just next to her, she finds these words paint a better picture of the person she knows far better. jumping bloody rope. ]

One good secret deserves another, Edwin. [ and there are things she couldn't ever stomach telling him when they are both in their righter minds. ] Because when I was your age I found myself preferring all manner of things that weren't expected of me. And disliking the things that were. You must be awfully patient to help with supper; I was never so patient.

[edwinjarvis]

[He looks absolutely tickled at the thought someone else understands.]

I try to be patient. Especially with granny; she keeps my secrets, too. She's kind of my best friend, I think...! [He is considerably more loose-limbed, a bit more normal of a child instead of the rather straight-faced meek one who stood a bit too rigidly. And there's far more of a light of conversation in his eyes. He enjoys company, good company, not the kind his father invites for work or his mother invites to chatter with.] Did you have someone like that, too?

[mucked]

[ she couldn't very well discuss her brother -- not with a child who she's tricked into thinking she's his aunt. but she could stretch the truth just enough. ]

I did. [ peggy tilts her head. ] I had a very dear friend when I was still a child. His name was Michael -- and he would play the dragon while I played Saint George. [ ... ] He helped me make my wooden swords, too.

[edwinjarvis]

[He brightens.]

That sounds marvelous, Aunt Peggy...! How lucky, to have had such a good friend! I hope I can find someone who would play with me; I would even be the dragon... even if I'm an awfully small one.

[But he would do his very best!!!]

I hope to one day be a tall dragon, as tall as my father!

Then I would be better at things, I think. Surely, I would be!

[Maybe he won't be the shortest in his class anymore.]

[mucked]

Height isn't everything, Edwin. [ and yet her smile can't help but be knowing. someday, he'll be taller even than captain america. quite the feat. ] There's a lot you can do at any height.

1/2

[edwinjarvis]

It would make me better at fencing.

I don't think I'll ever win father at it. I wish I could thwack him at least once.

Right on the top of the head.

[edwinjarvis]

[did he just admit to wanting to smack his father on the head?

BACKTRACKING]

I mean!! It would be nice to win! Is all!

[mucked]

-- Would you like to practice? Tomorrow, maybe. [ she thinks she can rustle up something that'll stand in for a sword. ] I know a bit of footwork. A counter or two.

[edwinjarvis]

[He's gobsmacked, truly!! Gobsmacked!]

You, Aunt Peggy? You fence?

[A lady like yourself? It's a shock! He won't complain, but it's a surprise and a half!]

I would like to... You seem much nicer a hand. It could be fun!

[mucked]

[ she taps her nose -- like sharing a secret. ]

You learn a great many things in the wilds of America, Edwin. On occasion, a sword is needed.

[ well. not really. but she's much happier selling a fantasy version of that place -- play into the boy's thirst for more. ]

[edwinjarvis]

[He is ENTRANCED!!!! And smiling oh-so-genuinely in his oversized robe.

His hands disappear into them as he throws up his fists defensively.]

I will do my best to be a good opponent, aunty! I promise.

Cross my heart, I won't let you down.

[mucked]

[ -- god help her, she doesn't manage to stop herself before reaching out and tenderly curling a stray lick of hair behind the boy's ear. it's a belying and gentle gesture, wholly at odds with the woman she is nine-tenths of the time.

peggy gives his cheek a little pat. ]

I know you won't. Not ever. [ not once. ] And even if you did? I wouldn't be upset. Not really.

[edwinjarvis]

[Oh, cheek pats and hair fidgeting. His granny loves to mess with his hair. And his mother gives him that occasional pinch or pat of the face, a sign she loves him despite his faults, he's sure of it. He smiles fondly, one eye squinted at the pat-pat of a palm.

Oh, he can't even help it! He gives her a hug around the waist.

He closes his eyes and says happily:]

Thank you...! I wish I had you at home. You're lovely!

[mucked]

[ oh heavens.

he grabs her 'round her middle and peggy is stopped -- stunned -- for a moment before eventually relaxing into a rough sort of hug. she wraps one arm around the boy's shoulders and pulls him firmly against her body. as hugs go, it's tight and clumsy and perfectly awkward. ]

Now, Edwin. [ she clears her throat. ] It's not the time for wishes. We have to make do with the time we've got here, instead.

[edwinjarvis]

[It's okay, his dad, among others in his family, are awkward huggers as well. He's learned from experience! He just blissfully sits in her hold for a moment before finally freeing her from her tragic hugging skills. He sits back and looks fondly at her.]

You're right, Aunt Peggy. I want to enjoy this place as much as possible, even if it's a bit scary. It's nice to have a vacation. Even in... outer space...

[mucked]

Ignore the stars out the windows and you might imagine it's almost exactly like summer hols. [ her smile is uneven. lop-sided, perhaps. ] Do you and your family do any sort of travelling? Perhaps down to the Jurassic coast? Dorset's lovely in the summer...

[ it's just like that, she proposes. space is just like durdle door in the summer. ]

[edwinjarvis]

... Not very often, really...

[He picks at the robe.]

Father is usually very busy. Or -- perhaps he just likes to be busy. Even when he doesn't have to work, he works. He says that... um, it is a waste to not use your time wisely. [A sigh.] He isn't much for playing.

[Mum complains sometimes about how he's always in his study.

Not that it really changes much in the house.]