video.

[foolproofed]

[Marty has retrieved his things from the locker; themos-bong, I've missed you so much. So, so much. He has it in his lap and sets it aside, plenty done with it for a good while. It's given him clarity; time to reflect on his life, on his future, on an evil ship doomed to ruin him as much as everything else has.

Okay, so he actually just came into his room, curled up, and cried for a little bit. And then smoked more. It's his depression solution.

But he's good now. He's cross-legged on his bed, looking as though he's been pondering considerably on the state of the Marty. Only whatever redness to his eyes can be contributed to his bong, if anyone questions it--he's too busy focusing on the now, instead of the then. It'll do him no good to let it drag him down; he can keep having all this doubt and survivor's guilt, but he can't let it crush him--because it wouldn't be fair to the others, when they never got the chance to come back.

No, he can figure it all out. He can think long and hard and maybe he can help these people where he couldn't help his own.]

Have you ever wondered if this place is your world's future? I know that's really morbid thinking and all, but this has to be in somebody's future--doesn't it? Maybe something crazy happened, people had nowhere to go, so they ran off to space. It's not like it's the craziest idea out there; we had--whole movies dedicated to stuff like this. Syfy originals. Books. Hell, I think I heard a radio story from ye olden days about it.

[He waves a finger at the air, looking off distantly.]

... I just can't figure out where everything went crazy aboard the ship--maybe there's some... entity. Like a spirit, or a god. Maybe it's getting its sick thrills off making us dance around like little lab rats. Or maybe it's whatever those hypothetical entities created. Maybe--maybe we're just being watched by something that brought us here just to see what we'll do. People say there's no reason we're here, or we haven't found one. But if I had to bet my piggy-bank back home on something... it'd be that. I'd guess it's also why it won't let anyone go out too far from home plate. Or why there are people who aren't people anymore.

Whatever we do, we gotta stick together. Or else... things'll just go from worse to worser. We gotta hang in there. Fuck Smiley and the monsters and the lack of wonderful snack foods--we gotta... just stick together...

[He's rambling now, whoops. Sighing at the sir, he reaches over, grabs his bong and talks as he turns the top, condensing the whole thing down into a normal thermos mug. ILU, thermy.]



I'm gonna go try to invent new things in the kitchen. Anyone wanna go? This place needs way more comfort food, and I'm pretty competent at Macguyver-ing together something worthy of consumption. Might even be able to do it without setting the whole ship on fire, too.

[HA HA it was a joke

just a joke

and then he wanders off without shutting down the feed. Distantly, and growing fainter:]

Maybe I can manufacture some space strain of toaster strudels. 

[And true to his word, he'll be in the kitchens to see what awful abominations he can make wunderbar. He'll answer anything there, too, while he's at it and he remembers to retrieve his comm. Now... what does this place have in the way of sweet stuff? Surely lots of cans and cans and cans and oh look boxes. Feel free to actually find him there, casually drinking from said thermos.]

Comments

[voice]

[jurisimpudent]

[...Oh, dear.]

Dr. Brink, are you all right?

[voice]

[foolproofed]

[He sighs and drops his arms.]

Am I gonna have to wear a shirt with my name on it now, or what...?

[voice]

[jurisimpudent]

[A paaause
and then--

Oh look at that number attached to the transmission.]

I...Ah. Apologies. You're not he.

[voice]

[foolproofed]

Well, I definitely don't have a med or Ph.D. Or a sweatervest.

[But I do have a higher voice and great stubble.]

I'm Marty. [He looks away, frowning.] Maybe I should wear a name tag.

[voice]

[jurisimpudent]

That might actually be quite useful, from an efficiency standpoint.

[voice]

[foolproofed]

[gosh edgeworth he's trying to be sassy]

Considering being mistaken for another person has almost gotten me physically abused by a rotting fish and a chick in glasses, I think it might be in my best interest.

[voice]

[jurisimpudent]

[Gonna have to try harder to penetrate this thick skull. But in the meantime:]

By - sorry. By a rotting fish?

[voice]

[foolproofed]

[nod nod]

It was a fuckin' fish. I couldn't tell what kind--too distracted by his bag of chickens and his general over-nakedness.

[voice]

[jurisimpudent]

Are you...certain.

[voice]

[foolproofed]

As certain as I am that he was positively naked and positively weird.

Very direct, that one. Also flapped his junk around too openly for my tastes. My innocent virgin eyes need not see the horrors of the male body in motion. As a fellow male, I can attest that it's horrible.

[voice]

[jurisimpudent]

[A slight pause.]

So - a moment. He was a fish with a "male body."

[voice] 1/2

[foolproofed]

.....

[voice]

[foolproofed]

Whaaat. No! He was a naked dude holding a rotting fish.

[this isn't rocket science dude

why would a fish wiggle his junk at me]

[voice]

[jurisimpudent]

[Well

well]

Well, you should have made that clear to begin with!

[voice]

[foolproofed]

Dude!! Fish don't just sprout legs and carry bags of chickens and wave their fishy penises around. Unless this place has some whacked-out fish problems I'm unaware of, anyway!

... Have you been traumatized by fish dongs before I came here? Because if so, really sorry to reopen a wound.

[fuck if he knows. he just saw evil dragon bats and clowns and hellraisers, so.]

[voice]

[jurisimpudent]

Wh - No, I have not ever been trau - Look, it's - Just - Don't try to blame me for your ambiguity!

[voice]

[foolproofed]

I said fellow male body! Do I look like a mutant fish man to you?

I just wasn't aware fish were so commonly mistaken for creatures who carry bags and rip their scales off to be naked.

...

And if I were nearly physically abused by an actual walking dickfish, I'd be too ashamed of myself to admit it.

[voice]

[foolproofed]

... And I said it was rotting. Did you think he was a zombie manfish???

Because that's not as crazy as it sounds.

The zombie part.

[voice]

[jurisimpudent]

Wh...You - All right; first, if you suffer an attack of some sort, it is your responsibility to report it. Understood?

[voice]

[foolproofed]

... Well. Yeah.

[who says i wouldn't yell about someone hitting me with a fish]

You should warn the other face about it; he's the one who seems to draw this kinda' attention. Somehow.

[voice]

[jurisimpudent]

...Yes; I don't think warning him is going to change that in any way.

[voice] Ianto is helpful.

[coffeeking]

This is the most entertaining public conversation I've ever seen on this network.

[voice] DEFINITELY

[foolproofed]

Thank you, sir, we do what we can. It's a free gig.

[voice] |Db

[coffeeking]

Ianto. Ianto Jones. And Edgeworth is always a free gig.

Out of curiosity, how high are you right now, and how confident are you in your ability to make munchies out of space rations and leftovers?

[voice]

[foolproofed]

I'm high as Saturn.







From Earth's perspective, rest in peace.

[deep down his soul is crying for saying that

luckily his high is not allowing misery to shine through]

But I'm exceedingly confident in my ability to make space rations into decent meals for the high and mighty.