Video. The Melting Pot.

[edwinjarvis]

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.

Comments

[edwinjarvis]

[He nods firmly. Anything to help make this not so miserable a learning lesson.]

We have it indeed.

It should be enough to help lead Dr. Wilkes back into a more... corporeal state, to to speak.

[mucked]

After we find and secure Dottie, yes. Of course.

[ already, she's shuffling her priorities -- imagining what few resources daniel might have left to him now that they'd crossed the ssr itself in order to achieve their little goal.

and, already, she's starting to minimize jason's urgency and panic in her own mind. downplaying it, because there's a larger problem on the prowl. ]

[edwinjarvis]

Indeed. And that can come after you rest a bit on your wound, too.

[He cocks his head to the side, looking dryly at her.

Because he expects she would have issue with that.]

Unless you plan to drown her in the blood of your pulled stitches.

[mucked]

Mister Jarvis. [ a huff. peggy inhales, trying to hold on to a shred of her composure. good lord, how could she allow everything to unravel so thoroughly? she'd thought her worse decisions would be years away -- things that would allow hydra to creep into an agency that doesn't exist yet.

but it turns out she mucks it up as soon as tomorrow by the time she gets home. ] We can't let her have any more of a head start than she already does.

[edwinjarvis]

Miss Carter.

[He stands with a frown, hands cupped behind his back.]

If you are killed I doubt the situation will resolve itself in any decent way.

We need you rested and ready.

[mucked]

[ and suffering from a heady mixture of dread and self-doubt, she blurts: ] I won't be killed. Good God, man. I don't die until the year twenty-bloody-sixteen. Don't fuss on my account.

[ and then, after the immediate dust settles, she draws her palm down her face and offers a shake of her head. peggy knows she shouldn't have said it. not to him. not to anyone, really. ]

[edwinjarvis]

[He stares at her for a long moment.

And then frowns.

Scowls a little, even. He can't believe her recklessness!! And to his face!]

And how do you know you're in fact the same Carter that lives until 2016?

[mucked]

[ -- a tremor of some emotion flares up. she burns red in the cheeks and there's something waiting to break loose just beneath her surface. whether it's frustration or desperation or anger, she can't really say. all she knows is she feels it crawling under her skin. she is turned restless and unsettled by jarvis's suggestion that the grand old dame who makes it to 95 won't be her. won't be her at all. ]

I have to be her. [ a throaty objection. peggy pushes off the chair's back and places her hands on her hips instead. ] If I'm not, then I may never see -- [ steve again.

but some words just can't be said. ]

I do. I will. It'll be me. God-willing, Mister Jarvis, it will be me.

[ she wants to live. never before had she cared so so so deeply about seeing what old age feels like. ]

[edwinjarvis]

And if you are reckless in assuming your invulnerability? If you go about assuming you're wearing some suit of armor?

[He looks down, looks at her, firmly.]

Who do you think will suffer the loss instead, in 1947?

[mucked]

[ jarvis's question brings her up short. her next frantic outburst sits, unspat, in the back of her mouth. in her desperation to underline a personal and painful problem, she'd got and put her foot in it again. peggy's teeth clench shut against a hard swallow and, in a rare moment of deference, her eyes dart aside.

ashamed. heaven help her, she doesn't wear shame often. nor does she wear it well. something in her grim expression softens. ]

Jarvis, I -- [ i'm sorry sounds childish. instead she gives a short shake of her head. ] Let me assure you, [ dear mister jarvis, ] that I am certainly none too keen deprive you of my, my supervision nor my -- friendship. Not anytime soon.

[ there's a slight tremble in her hand when she presses it to stomach, precisely where the wound would be had it not healed (as if by magic) when she awoke here. violet might have laid the original stitches, but it's jarvis who tends to them. he damn well keeps her alive, stupid sentimental butler. ]

[edwinjarvis]

[Looking too far ahead, Miss Carter. It's not like he can't relate; part of him entertains planning his whole life from this moment on. Probably a dull bit of existence for some, for those like an SSR agent, so full of energy and drive and thinking big pictures beyond little fences and resting comfortably and being content with perhaps a letter or a peck on the cheek or — or perhaps a girl or boy (red hair, bright, excellent for pigtails!) who would ask him for help on math problems.

He tries not to think ahead, because life changes. But he does, too.

Still, this? This is not healthy. Running about assuming immortality until a certain point, it's foolish and dangerous. She already is fearless enough; he can't have her taking the rest of it and throwing it in a trash bin.

But her shame is both unwarranted and a strange relief, all at once.]

... I can certainly help you to 2016, Miss Carter, if you'll allow me. It would be a great honor.

[He bites his lip, glancing down. A bit flushed himself, though not of shame, but of embarrassment. He really can't help but be sentimental.]

I only ask you remember — I was very much beside myself with panic at the thought that maybe you're not as bullet-proof as I had imagined.

[mucked]

[ about as beside herself, peggy imagines, as she would be should anything happen him. she draws a steadying breath -- reminding herself, inward and stern, that dottie underwood is a problem that can wait for another. most likely. what's important now isn't the narrowing opportunity to recapture an old enemy, but the burgeoning one wherein she might enrich a friendship.

she doesn't threaten their careful politesse by doing anything so crass as offering a warm hand to hold. instead, head cocked, she says: ] Or rebar-proof, as the case may be.

[ a bad joke. but she feels some tension in her abate. ] I ought to thank you for your support and your determination to see the job done, Mister Jarvis. Rather than chide you merely for wanting to fight our good fight.

[ she knows that now; whether she'll always know it, pending certain disasters, is another question. ]

[edwinjarvis]

... An ideal butler hardly expects a thank you.

[He clears his throat, straightening his suit lapels. Curse this bloody room.]

However, I do recommend working on your morbid jokes.

[mucked]

You may be Howard's butler -- but you're certainly not mine.

[ she means it positively. not to disparage butlers, of course. but that hasn't been the part of his company that she's learned to cherish best. ]

I'm afraid you're much, much more.

[edwinjarvis]

[Oh, you terrible f(r)iend.]

If you are trying to take advantage of my riled concern after your terrible fall...! Well, you're... certainly succeeding. [He shakes his head, and you've got him so very flustered. Good job, agent. Not that it's a difficult sport, but regardless...!] This room is cursed. We should have a cup of tea and some biscuits away from its prying clutches.

[mucked]

[ dryly: ] This room is lovely and don't you dare disparage it. Steve puts a terrible amount of effort into lining his bloody knick-knacks along the wall.

[ a jerk of her head toward the shelf she allows him for his belongings, though others seem to worm their way into the room whenever she's not looking.

whatever the reason, her words are nearly sarcastic. peggy doesn't care for the trinkets, but she endures them. for true love. ]

[edwinjarvis]

It's lovely and I wouldn't dare disparage it.

[He smiles a little, humored, but the expression softens.]

... We will make things right, Miss Carter. I promise you. I would like you to focus on enjoying this room instead of worrying about the likes of Dottie Underwood. She would enjoy that far too much.

[mucked]

[ a mild smile; it doesn't reach her eyes. yes, dottie would love to be the center of so much dread and concern. he's right. but-- ]

Mister Jarvis. [ peggy clears her throat. she knows he deserves better than what she's given him -- at nearly every turn. so she tries. ] Although I am terribly sorry for putting you in harm's way, I am equally pleased to learn you both survived the ordeal and came away with the sample we'll need.

[ gentle, now: ] Well done.

[edwinjarvis]

[He smiles, too. Quite fondly.]

Ah, a compliment from Agent Carter herself. I can rest easy now.

[What a butthead, but he looks entirely pleased with her.]

I feel it's only right to try and keep up with your stamina, however impossible that may be.

[mucked]

Bit easier at the moment, I suspect. [ back home, injured as she is. ]

1/2

[edwinjarvis]

Once again, your humor is terrible.

[edwinjarvis]

...And yet I have a distinct feeling you would still manage to out-race me through sheer stubbornness.

[mucked]

Given the effort that would require? It would be my last race. I'm certain.

[ -- sorry not sorry. she'll stop cracking-wise about her death, now. ]

[edwinjarvis]

... Have you had your fun now?

[mucked]

[ fun is a funny thing to call it. but, yes, she seems sated. for now, she lets the problem shaped like dottie underwood slide into the background. best to simply be glad she has an ally in edwin jarvis.

she reaches for his elbow. ]

-- Tea?