Edwin Jarvis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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driftfleet2017-11-17 10:10 pm
edwinjarvis) wrote in driftfleet2017-11-17 10:10 pm
Video. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOOOU
Who: Edwin Jarvis and you
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Tourist, or visit him at The Melting Pot if you'd like, aboard the Iskaulit!
When: After they leave the spooky cannibal planet.
[It has been... the longest few months in his entire life, or maybe competes with the top months. The prior month particularly, and that's not even counting being stranded on a planet full of cannibals. Regardless, Jarvis has been kind of... working on keeping things together. It does nobody any good if he openly mopes or worries -- he has The Melting Pot to tend to, better stocked now since Lyuku. He tries not to seem too distracted there. And The Tourist will, of course, continue to have its routine offered breakfasts and dinners...! He's not one to give in on his usual duties just because something's dampening his spirits.
One morning, he finds a crate in the Tourist's cargo bay, and dreads the fact that his name is written on the shipping label. The last time he'd actually opened one of these, it had been... flamingos. Plastic flamingos that inadvertently turned into a galactic fashion statement. He will not make the same mistake again...!!! He shows up on his feed, hand on his hip, looking displeased.]
I don't know if you've noticed, but...!! There's a rather large box here for me in the cargo bay. When have these ever been a good thing, I implore you to inform me? I've learned quite a number of things through life here. One -- don't fiddle with your augment implant. Two -- people can apparently survive being asleep for ungodly periods of time, and three -- do not trust anything the Atroma send you! I'm not falling for it aga--
[There's a sudden explosion of confetti, the walls of the crate falling open as Jarvis yelps in a high and rather unflattering timbre, and behind him stands a cake nearly his height -- with HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY in huge letters, as well as a banner that subtitles: sorry about being trapped on a cannibal planet. Jarvis leaps back to standing upright, adjusting his riled tie and crooked reading glasses -- and looking alarmed. And covered in confetti.]
... Dear god no.
[NO NOT HIS BIRTHDAY]
That--
That is the most hazardous and ugliest cake I've ever seen in my life!!
[Oh, come on, Jarvis, it's not that--
Ohmyword.]
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Tourist, or visit him at The Melting Pot if you'd like, aboard the Iskaulit!
When: After they leave the spooky cannibal planet.
[It has been... the longest few months in his entire life, or maybe competes with the top months. The prior month particularly, and that's not even counting being stranded on a planet full of cannibals. Regardless, Jarvis has been kind of... working on keeping things together. It does nobody any good if he openly mopes or worries -- he has The Melting Pot to tend to, better stocked now since Lyuku. He tries not to seem too distracted there. And The Tourist will, of course, continue to have its routine offered breakfasts and dinners...! He's not one to give in on his usual duties just because something's dampening his spirits.
One morning, he finds a crate in the Tourist's cargo bay, and dreads the fact that his name is written on the shipping label. The last time he'd actually opened one of these, it had been... flamingos. Plastic flamingos that inadvertently turned into a galactic fashion statement. He will not make the same mistake again...!!! He shows up on his feed, hand on his hip, looking displeased.]
I don't know if you've noticed, but...!! There's a rather large box here for me in the cargo bay. When have these ever been a good thing, I implore you to inform me? I've learned quite a number of things through life here. One -- don't fiddle with your augment implant. Two -- people can apparently survive being asleep for ungodly periods of time, and three -- do not trust anything the Atroma send you! I'm not falling for it aga--
[There's a sudden explosion of confetti, the walls of the crate falling open as Jarvis yelps in a high and rather unflattering timbre, and behind him stands a cake nearly his height -- with HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY in huge letters, as well as a banner that subtitles: sorry about being trapped on a cannibal planet. Jarvis leaps back to standing upright, adjusting his riled tie and crooked reading glasses -- and looking alarmed. And covered in confetti.]
... Dear god no.
[NO NOT HIS BIRTHDAY]
That--
That is the most hazardous and ugliest cake I've ever seen in my life!!
[Oh, come on, Jarvis, it's not that--
Ohmyword.]
no subject
[What a sass machine.
Let us meet and have cake, boss.]
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[ he's just kidding gosh. howard clicks off the feed and heads over to the iskaulit, making decently good time for a perpetually distracted trashpile. he sidles up to jarvis with no concern for what the other man is doing or if customers overhear. he hopes they do in fact. he starts singing loudly :{) ]
Happy birthday to my pal, to my pal, to my pal. Happy birthday to my pal! My pal, Jarvis. [ at the end of his tune, he slings an arm around the other man's shoulders ]
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... Hello to you too, pal.]
Mr. Stark, please. You're trying to mortify me, aren't you?
[Note that he doesn't make any attempt to remove Howard. How unshocking.]
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And by practically I mean literally.]
I -- well, thank you, sir. I'm. [Ahem.] Thank you.
[He's such a goober about his own birthday; clearly, he needs to take a more Starkly approach and throw a couple of Jarvis portraits up around here, get some motivation for a more bitching birthday. But no, it seems Edwin Jarvis is shy about birthdays, as usual. Nonsense, really...!
But also, 'best friend'. That just warms his heart. Damn you.]
It's always nice to have your company.
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[Walking back into the kitchen, the dreaded six foot birthday cake sits precariously on the island counter. The candles are blissfully out, too; this is a fire-free zone!! No need to almost blow up the Iskaulit. The question that shall never be answered is... how the bloody hell did he get it here.
Butler magic, that's how.]
Forgive me for not letting you do the honors of extinguishing the flames... but when I worked in the Space Bar kitchen, the whole place near got set on fire. You can never be too careful...
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You're certain you want to do this? [ he's taking this whole operation v seriously ok ]
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More sweets are imperative; it boosts morale.
['Let's test this thing for any danger, so we can stuff our faces,' is the translation.]
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Surely there are materials in the fleet we can use to determine the toxicity of the cake?
...
And not your stomach.
no subject
Cabbage. Or something close to it. I can make my own.