Post by goufcustom on Jan 19, 2010 18:00:58 GMT -5
It was starting to get to him.
Jarvis paced frantically around his room on the Llue Llaw Gyffes. The EFF operations on Earth that he'd been involved in had been marginally successful at best. People were dying. Sure, they'd been dying throughout the course of the war, but none of those other deaths were his fault. Damn it, he just wasn't good enough for this! It was all his father's fault. If good ol' Archie Ackart hadn't pulled strings, then Jarvis wouldn't have to be in this mess. People might still be alive. And as if to rub salt in the wound, Father Dearest had just shipped a box of maps to the LLG as a gift to his son. They were supposed to "get the ol' Ackart strategic juices running!" Bollocks.
There was a knock on the door as Christine entered. She set some tea onto the table in the quarters. It had become a game she played, one that Jarvis begrudgingly went along with. She brought him a different blend of tea every day, in an attempt to find one he would like. She informed him that today's contestant was called (for some reason he couldn't comprehend) YoSaffBridge, and contained chamomille, raspberry, and white pear. Fruity tea. How marvelous. He waved her off for now, he would try it later.
Instead he opened the box and flipped through the assembled maps. Everything was covered. Europe, Australia, the Americas, Africa, Asia, and in varying scale. World, continent, country, even maps of larger cities. All exquisitely made, and surely quite expensive. And an anger began to burn in Jarvis. Not like his usual sense of disgust, grumpiness, or even the occasional cold hate. No, his anger at his father began to boil and burn within him, coming to the surface suddenly, inexplicably, demanding an outlet. So he kicked the table. The pain in his foot only increased his anger, so instead he grabbed the side of the table shoved, toppling it. Maps flew and fluttered around the room, and the teapot smashed against the floor. The stupidity of his rash behavior came to him then, and he sat in a chair, his anger fading to a depression.
He looked at the mess he'd made. This did nothing. It did LESS than nothing, now he'd have to waste time cleaning the damnable room. He looked over to the teapot... no doubt Christine would be upset too. He didn't mean for that to happen, he didn't want her to be upset. No doubt she was getting used to it, though. He watched the tea spread out from the pot, soaking into the maps. It was actually kinda interesting to watch, going from one location to another, covering and sweeping over it...
He blinked. A thought had just come to him... no, surely... but... oh. OH. That was good, he liked that. He like that very much! He leapt up from his seat, at the same time as Christine burst through the door.
"I heard a crash, are you alr-"
"Christine, thank you for that wonderful tea! The entire thing is brilliant I say, truly! I have to go take care of something. Find some poor private to take care of this mess, and get Ferdinand on the wire! He'll want in on this, I have no doubt!"
He dashed out and into the corridor of the carrier, practically running through the narrow hall. Christine was left in his room, frazzled and very, very confused.
Jarvis paced frantically around his room on the Llue Llaw Gyffes. The EFF operations on Earth that he'd been involved in had been marginally successful at best. People were dying. Sure, they'd been dying throughout the course of the war, but none of those other deaths were his fault. Damn it, he just wasn't good enough for this! It was all his father's fault. If good ol' Archie Ackart hadn't pulled strings, then Jarvis wouldn't have to be in this mess. People might still be alive. And as if to rub salt in the wound, Father Dearest had just shipped a box of maps to the LLG as a gift to his son. They were supposed to "get the ol' Ackart strategic juices running!" Bollocks.
There was a knock on the door as Christine entered. She set some tea onto the table in the quarters. It had become a game she played, one that Jarvis begrudgingly went along with. She brought him a different blend of tea every day, in an attempt to find one he would like. She informed him that today's contestant was called (for some reason he couldn't comprehend) YoSaffBridge, and contained chamomille, raspberry, and white pear. Fruity tea. How marvelous. He waved her off for now, he would try it later.
Instead he opened the box and flipped through the assembled maps. Everything was covered. Europe, Australia, the Americas, Africa, Asia, and in varying scale. World, continent, country, even maps of larger cities. All exquisitely made, and surely quite expensive. And an anger began to burn in Jarvis. Not like his usual sense of disgust, grumpiness, or even the occasional cold hate. No, his anger at his father began to boil and burn within him, coming to the surface suddenly, inexplicably, demanding an outlet. So he kicked the table. The pain in his foot only increased his anger, so instead he grabbed the side of the table shoved, toppling it. Maps flew and fluttered around the room, and the teapot smashed against the floor. The stupidity of his rash behavior came to him then, and he sat in a chair, his anger fading to a depression.
He looked at the mess he'd made. This did nothing. It did LESS than nothing, now he'd have to waste time cleaning the damnable room. He looked over to the teapot... no doubt Christine would be upset too. He didn't mean for that to happen, he didn't want her to be upset. No doubt she was getting used to it, though. He watched the tea spread out from the pot, soaking into the maps. It was actually kinda interesting to watch, going from one location to another, covering and sweeping over it...
He blinked. A thought had just come to him... no, surely... but... oh. OH. That was good, he liked that. He like that very much! He leapt up from his seat, at the same time as Christine burst through the door.
"I heard a crash, are you alr-"
"Christine, thank you for that wonderful tea! The entire thing is brilliant I say, truly! I have to go take care of something. Find some poor private to take care of this mess, and get Ferdinand on the wire! He'll want in on this, I have no doubt!"
He dashed out and into the corridor of the carrier, practically running through the narrow hall. Christine was left in his room, frazzled and very, very confused.