Edwin Jarvis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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driftfleet2017-05-11 02:55 pm
edwinjarvis) wrote in driftfleet2017-05-11 02:55 pm
Entry tags:
Video. The Melting Pot.
Who: Jarvis and you!
Broadcast: Fleetwide!
Action: Closed to Peggy, but can add action if wanted; he's aboard the Tourist.
When: Nowish.
[Closed to Peggy]
[When Jarvis wakes up from his short but rested coma (oh, memories, rushing in), he practically sits straight up like a mummy from a Universal picture — Dottie Underwood! The sample! Sousa's marriage in shambles! Miss Carter had a rebar through her stomach and he disabled bombs that could have killed them all — wow, he feels faint all over again. But no time to dawdle; he slips into his jacket and pulls on a coat and adjusts his tie, and ultimately he ends up walking into the Starstruck with a bit more urgency than he usually does.
Perhaps he should have checked to see if Miss Carter was here at the moment, but he's a bit discombobulated. The quiet guard dog (and his old, actual dog) points with a thumb over his shoulder toward the Captain's room and Jarvis, albeit hesitant after their last squabble in her room (family, family, family, it'd been about family, yes, he remembers clearly now), quickly makes his presence known.]
A rebar! You could have done well to inform me of your peril beforehand!
[... Did she tell him about it? He can't remember. His fleet memories are a bit murky. He will be outraged anyway, or... okay, not outraged, but indignant, aloof, hands on his hips and a huffy frown on his face. He's hard to take seriously. Also, hello, I'm awake.]
You gave me a fright!
[Much, much later, he's doing something he was expecting to do days ago:]
[VIDEO]
Well...! Hello. If we haven't met yet, my name is Edwin Jarvis — a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and "Jarvis" will do just fine. [He seems a bit nervous, just a bit, because he's never actually done something like this before, but... well. He's had a little time to mull it over, and it just seems more and more important to get this over with.] You may know me from cooking here and there around the fleet; the Tourist especially.
But it's come to my attention that we don't have an actual eatery of any kind aboard the Iskaulit. Two bars are crucial, of course, especially under stressful circumstances, but one needs nourishment. Especially after bar hopping. Something to sap up all of that alcohol, one imagines.
So with that in mind... I will be formally opening a new bistro of sorts, called The Melting Pot. Currently I'm interested in any cooks who may be interested in working some hours there; I don't have a concrete menu yet, but as the name suggests, I'm more than happy to bring in dishes from across all worlds or ethnicity. Please, feel free to contact me if you would like. We're also in need of waiters or waitresses to take orders, if you prefer. It may be slow work considering we're a relatively small community, but it will be time spent and money earned regardless.
[He has his glasses on as he scribbles something down. A stray thought.]
Also, more importantly...
What is everyone's favorite foods?
Perhaps popular recommendations will be added to the future Melting Pot menu.
Broadcast: Fleetwide!
Action: Closed to Peggy, but can add action if wanted; he's aboard the Tourist.
When: Nowish.
[Closed to Peggy]
[When Jarvis wakes up from his short but rested coma (oh, memories, rushing in), he practically sits straight up like a mummy from a Universal picture — Dottie Underwood! The sample! Sousa's marriage in shambles! Miss Carter had a rebar through her stomach and he disabled bombs that could have killed them all — wow, he feels faint all over again. But no time to dawdle; he slips into his jacket and pulls on a coat and adjusts his tie, and ultimately he ends up walking into the Starstruck with a bit more urgency than he usually does.
Perhaps he should have checked to see if Miss Carter was here at the moment, but he's a bit discombobulated. The quiet guard dog (and his old, actual dog) points with a thumb over his shoulder toward the Captain's room and Jarvis, albeit hesitant after their last squabble in her room (family, family, family, it'd been about family, yes, he remembers clearly now), quickly makes his presence known.]
A rebar! You could have done well to inform me of your peril beforehand!
[... Did she tell him about it? He can't remember. His fleet memories are a bit murky. He will be outraged anyway, or... okay, not outraged, but indignant, aloof, hands on his hips and a huffy frown on his face. He's hard to take seriously. Also, hello, I'm awake.]
You gave me a fright!
[Much, much later, he's doing something he was expecting to do days ago:]
[VIDEO]
Well...! Hello. If we haven't met yet, my name is Edwin Jarvis — a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and "Jarvis" will do just fine. [He seems a bit nervous, just a bit, because he's never actually done something like this before, but... well. He's had a little time to mull it over, and it just seems more and more important to get this over with.] You may know me from cooking here and there around the fleet; the Tourist especially.
But it's come to my attention that we don't have an actual eatery of any kind aboard the Iskaulit. Two bars are crucial, of course, especially under stressful circumstances, but one needs nourishment. Especially after bar hopping. Something to sap up all of that alcohol, one imagines.
So with that in mind... I will be formally opening a new bistro of sorts, called The Melting Pot. Currently I'm interested in any cooks who may be interested in working some hours there; I don't have a concrete menu yet, but as the name suggests, I'm more than happy to bring in dishes from across all worlds or ethnicity. Please, feel free to contact me if you would like. We're also in need of waiters or waitresses to take orders, if you prefer. It may be slow work considering we're a relatively small community, but it will be time spent and money earned regardless.
[He has his glasses on as he scribbles something down. A stray thought.]
Also, more importantly...
What is everyone's favorite foods?
Perhaps popular recommendations will be added to the future Melting Pot menu.
action »
[ she lets herself in, since he seems to welcome her door hovering ]
Good morning?
action »
[So serious, so determined. But he lightens up when her body decides to arrive with her head.]
Good morning, Miss Danvers. I apologize for my short absence; I had a bit of a sleep. An extended one.
action »
[ if he is sitting somewhere she can sit next to him, she will do so. Otherwise she will stay standing ]
I'm really glad you're awake, but I'm afraid I have some bad news.
action »
[Wait, rewind. His brow creases.]
... Bad news, you say.
action »
Winn went home.
action »
[His expression falls.
And he sits, quiet, for a long and contemplative moment.]
I — well. I'm so sorry, Miss Danvers. I... strangely, I never suspected there was a time here without him. [He frowns a bit more deeply, troubled. And perhaps a little sad.] Blasted me, he'd left and I hadn't imparted a remotely decent goodbye; too busy being asleep...
action »
And yeah, he came about a month after I did. It's just been a little over a year so I got comfortable with the idea that we'd go home at the same time, I guess.
action »
But...]
It was an honor to have met him, and I will miss him terribly.
... Poor Miss Pryde, though — Does she know yet?
action »
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Ah, and those are two things I'm fairly proficient in.
action »
Re: action »
After all, that's what we should do for each other, in times of pain.
Re: action »
action »
But -- I... also feel Miss Pryde and I will have a terrible thing in common now, too.
I know what it's like, to pine for someone you love who isn't there.
action »
action »
action »
action »