trans_9 | (no subject)

When Marco stumbled across the media library, he concluded that this had to be the best day so far on this freaky meatship.

Music. Massive screens. A giant, alien entertainment centre. And, most importantly - video games.

Marco was immediately drawn to the tall white box with the strange looking controllers. He snorted when he saw the name "Wii" (who though that was a good idea? The puns where almost too easy) but hey, this was clearly gaming of the future. Or gaming of a strange and bizarre alien race - it was hard to tell. Either way, it was cool, and Marco was so going to try it out.

He fished around for a vaguely interesting looking game, bypassing all the ones that looked boring (Wii Fit? Cricket? Imagine: Fashion Idol?! pfft), eventually settling on Escape from Bug Island.

Marco had been a bug before. Waaaaay too many times. Now he could squish them in safe video game fun.

But as Marco began to play, his good mood rapidly diminished. Who thought up this whole "swinging around the controller" thing? What the hell was going on with that animation?

"What the hell is with this?!" He yelled, as he tried to get the control to do what he wanted dammit. "This is nuts! GAMING OF THE FUTURE IS CRAP!"

[[ooc: For reference, this is the extraodinarily bad game Marco is playing.]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Buuuuut," Lister can't let Marco win this discussion. "The freaky looking things said that there was a chance that what had been done had been undone. Therefore we can fix things. And it wouldn't be traveling, it would just be a quick jaunt to see," if a certain Kochanski had any ancestors still living and hot, "if the Earth was better than the one I can from. They can't object to that, surely."

Lister has a Plan. And he's going to do it, whatever happens. That's why it's got a capital letter, even in speech. Because it's now just that awesome.

He wanted an argument? He'll get one. "Yeah. They said that. They probably decided to not say just how little change we've got of actually doing that. Or how many of us will probably die in the process. And even that's assuming that they are in fact telling the truth about there being a change of our universes coming back, and not just saying that so that we'll follow along with their plans like good little boys and girls."

"As for you popping over for a holiday - they're aliens. Who knows what they'll object to. They probably find your dreadlocks deeply offensive."

Well, Lister didn't really want an argument, but it has been a while since he had one, and it'll probably do no harm. "You doing anything else? Smeg, they could be lying, and we could all be doomed, but sitting around and getting bored out of our gourds isn't how to handle it! Have plans, have dreams, and have some fun!" Beam. Lister is all over the idea of fun.

"And who could find dreads offensive? Could stick 'em under me hat if I needed to though."

"Oh, I like having fun. I also like not being screwed around by enigmatic aliens."

"Dude, they're aliens. Maybe their religion says "though shalt not allot thy hair to become matted" or something."

"You think I like it? I'm a free bird, no man shall cage me, blah blah. But if we know they're screwing with us, you think we can avoid being shafted? For smeg's sake, we've got some intellects here, they could out-think anyone. And me hair's not matted. It's stylish."

"Got it. You're a bird. With stylish matted locks."

"Exactly," Lister agrees happily. "What does that make you, though?"

"Me? Incredibly good looking, smart, and funny, of course!"

[[ooc: That's alright! Aww, hope you feel better]]

"You forgot babe-magnet," Lister adds helpfully.

Marco grinned. Sure, Marco won't be helping Lister pull any Andalite-pranks. But he definitely liked the guy. "That too."

Lister's sure he can find someone, somewhere to help him wind up an Andy. "Wonder if we're related or something, cos where I'm from? People call me that stuff all the time. Nice to meet you, probable relative."

"Man, I feel so sorry for the future human race then, if dreadlocks have become the pinnacle of sexiness," Marco said. What could he say? Marco teased everyone, and those dreadlocks were so deserving of mockery. "And dude, the whole being from different universes thing kinda gets in the way or your being-related theory."

"Hey, since I'm the last of the species, everything about me is the pinnacle of sexiness," Lister protests. "I'm the ultimate trendsetter, even evolved cats want to be like me."

Well, before they flew into an asteroid, they did.

"And I've traveled universes. What's to say that in your future you don't travel to my universe and become my great great whatever. It's possible, right?"

"Last of the species?" For a moment Marco blinked. In Lister's world, all humans were dead except him?

...now that he was not expecting.

"Sexy to who? You? And sorry, no universe traveling in my world. We have a hard enough time just getting a space-ship."

"Fraid so," Lister's cheery expression fades for a second. "Well, I guess I am. Three million years plus alone in deep space, chances that Earth hasn't gone boom are quite slim. And there are certain GELF's that thought I was sexy."

Some mainly just thought his brain was sexy and wanted to eat it.

"Dude, that sucks for you. Mind you, being stuck on Earth doesn't sound too bad. You ever been to Fiji?"

"Tree million?! Marco said, staring.

"Fiji? No. And come on, Hawaii's the place to be."

"And then some. Short version, I got put up in stasis, there was a radiation leak, and it didn't clear for a while." Lister explains. "And Fiji is going to be the place to be. Hawaii only wishes it could be as good as Fiji."