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. :)]
no subject
[He gives a shrug of his shoulders. ]
By the time I got here, space was far less frightening. I had become used to it.
no subject
I'm sorry you had to be afraid.
I've never been very scared before this, and I'm too little to fight in the war. Though — I, I would like to help when I'm taller... and stronger...
[If it's still going on, anyway. And if it will please his family, certainly.]
no subject
It is fine. I got better. Sometimes, fear is what sharpens our instincts. It makes us faster, more able to adapt to new situations. Fear is not a bad thing.
[That's adorable. ]
There is no war here- but there is no such thing as not being any help, no matter how small you are.
no subject
[He flusters, just a little. He's always been terribly self-conscious of what he can do, especially when he thinks about his father, who has always had so many talents. And such a great brain. He's not sure he can ever keep up!]
I'm not very good at anything in particular.
no subject
Sometimes, we can surprise ourselves, witch just how much we are capable of.
no subject
Are you sure?
Because I feel awfully unsurprising.
no subject
no subject
Y-yes.... I will take your word for it, sir.
Thank you for making this, um... easier...
no subject
no subject
He puts his hands on his chest, mostly just to make sure you're talking about him.]
Me? I'm... a member of the crew?!
I don't know if I'm skilled enough to be a good teammate! I need to learn quickly!
no subject
[He offers a small smile, which he hopes is at least a little encouraging. ]
I promise you will have plenty of time to learn. Plenty of people arrive here with no idea of what they need to do. I am sure you will learn and be fine.