video.

[foolproofed]

[When the camera turns on, Marty's adjusting it before plopping down in a seat clumsily (grumbling 'fuckin' jelly legs' or something to that effect); he's got dust and oil on him, a little toil and trouble with the clean-up assistance he's been performing on the Tranquility (after pilfering a gun from the Scylla, of course). He's bone-tired and there's a bit of sweat on his brow, but in that weariness he finds temporary redirection from the shitty stuff. He's noticed, of course, people fighting plenty. People looking very tense and unhappy. The halls are even quieter, somehow. And he doesn't fuckin' like it, not one bit. Now, he's not particularly attached to this ship--duh, he's only been here a month and it's a horrible place on top of it--but like hell does he enjoy misery as company. That saying can just go shove it.

I mean, he's barely even smoking it up, lately. In fact, he's stone cold normal right now and empty-handed. They're just clasped in front of him as he leans into his knees.]

You know what I need? A break. A cigarette break, but with more words 'n shit. We've been working our asses off. Keep up the fantastic work, and all that jazz, but how about something else for a second? Juuust a second. I know we've all been stressed out, what with the pirates and the freaky-ass murdering specter captains and the--uh--ship clamped on us like a tumor. So just... Hey, I haven't--really indulged in the fact that we're all from every corner of time and space and universes and all that cool sci-fi stuff.

[He licks his lips as he considers what to say, hands motioning in front of him like he's trying to catch his own thoughts.]

You guys, we have all kinds of worlds on board! Tell me some cool shit about your world. Or about you. Whatever. Can I get some cool facts? Some jokes? Stories? Hell, it doesn't even have to be anything outside of good ol' planet Earth. Or even directed at me. No serious or traumatic stuff needed, just... stuff. Hell, if you're a connoisseur of movies or you have a thing for panda facts or you wanna tell a story about your crazy family reunions.

[He suddenly seems a little more excited, a little less tired, shifting in his seat.]

This entry is now Marty's Share Fair. I'm stuck on a funky space ship and all, so I might as well know more than the bleak stuff.

....

Just don't pull a TMI, okay? I'm sure everyone sees enough floppy nethers after each jump. We don't need to know anything about them other that the promise that you'll find a towel posthaste. Thank you in advance.

(ooc: threadjacking heavily encouraged! it'd be fun to have people find common interests or things to relate to, and I just wanted a kinda free-for-all for the S.S. Solemn Worrywarts)

Comments

[ex_question191]

How 'bout you, do you handle people's junk?

[jurisimpudent]

I...

[Why are you asking like that.]

Good day, Mr. Stilinski. For the most part, no; evidence is typically processed before it comes to me. I should think you would be familiar with the process, given your father's occupation.

[ex_question191]

Yeah, totally. Warrants, evidence, bagging it all up. I was mostly riffing using the slang that young people nowaday use. You know, the junk in your trunks.

[jurisimpudent]

First: none of that sarcasm of yours.

[Read: Leave off making fun of him for saying "young people" he will fuck your shit up if you talk about his age where the stoner can hear]

Second: if that is some slangish idiom I do not know it, so your mindless repetition of it will get us nowhere.

[ex_question191]

In your trunks. That's what they call underpants in Britland. It rhymes with junk. Which is what's in them. Oh my god, as great as this is, I'm seriously not spelling it out for you any more than this.

[jurisimpudent]

[That's...embarrassing.]

In - That - I - First, there is no such country as Britland, and - And I don't see why - any of that remotely matters! In the least! Why are you even bringing any of that up - how is it remotely germane!

[ex_question191]

Chill. Quote, knowledge of someone's junk, unquote, is too much information. I'm like, 98% sure McFly wasn't talking about the contents of someone's closet.

[jurisimpudent]

[Ugh he hates this conversation, haaates it.]

Who is McFly. Are you referring to the gentleman who originally made this transmission?

[ex_question191]

Yeah, Marty.

[jurisimpudent]

His last name is...McFly?

[ex_question191]

[ oh my god edgeworth his sense of pop culture has sympathy pains right now. ]

Does this mean you're gonna start calling him "Mr. McFly"?

[jurisimpudent]

If...that is his last name.

[It doesn't sound right why doesn't that sound right]

[ex_question191]

You're such a gentleman.

[jurisimpudent]

[Trying to get away from the subject of McFly - ]

Do not mock me, Mr. Stilinski.

[ex_question191]

But you make it so easy, Mr. Edgeworth.

[jurisimpudent]

Or perhaps your mode of speech is just naturally glib and facile, Mr. Stilinski.

[ex_question191]

Hey! I work hard to be this superficial, Mister Edgeworrrrth.

[jurisimpudent]

Then I would advise you with respect to rest on your laurels.

[ex_question191]

With how much respect?

[jurisimpudent]

[He's getting annoyed enough that just a bit of the stuffy snottiness is dropping away from his voice.]

Oh, oodles.

[foolproofed]

[LAUGHING HEARTILY]