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Ray's seen Peter's quarters here in Milliways, but no one else's ever really been to his. This might explain the look of the place when he opens the door. The general impression is of some kind of science-fiction convention that viciously mugged the annual meeting of the Society of American Chemical Engineers, then ran off to Tijuana with the more interesting parts of the Fu Foundation School of Engineering and Applied Science's library. There are books stacked everywhere, schematic diagrams of starships taped to the walls, the electronic pin-outs involved in downloading data from a PKE meter to a USB drive, notebooks and pens and mechanical pencils- you name it. There's also a small card table to one side, where it was forced to take shelter from the wall-sized rig of chemical solutions, gratings, filters, and electrical coils. Somewhere in all of this there is a bed and a chair, but it takes some looking to find anything so mundane.

"My world and welcome to it," Ray said, glancing over his shoulder. "If anything goes crunch underfoot, let me know, would you? I think I might've dropped one of my crystallography experiments the other day and I haven't found the pieces yet."

Comments

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

Peter stared at the mess. "Sheesh, Ray. What, did you grab the labs from all of our worlds and bring them here?"

He goes to take a step, and does indeed hear a crunch. Great.

"I think I found it, then." He lifts up his left foot, and checks under the sole of his shoe. There was bits of crystalline dust on the surface. "Glad, I'm not barefoot. Sorry." He glanced around unsure how they were going to do this. There was barely space to stand, much less sit. He didn't even want to try to figure how the hell Ray could sleep in here. There were a few patches of floor here and there, but that was it.

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"I've been working here for a while," Ray said. "When I first got here I didn't dare leave, because I didn't want to walk out and still be falling off the Shandor building, so I sort of made it a semipermanent base of operations. It's, uh, expanded since then. Those are the books you recommended there, the ones under them are selected from their bibliographies or offered by the Bar, that stack there's my intro to crystallography, the plans are for a starship from about five hundred years into a dystopian future where Earth gets so used up that everybody just up and leaves, the red toolbox there has half the PKE emitter in it- I've disassembled that, by the way. The critical elements are stored in a separate room, under lock, key, and magic seal. Last thing I need is somebody getting their hands on the machine and ramping it up without asking nicely."

He nodded, producing a small dustpan and hand-broom from somewhere. "It's okay. That was one of the smaller synthetic opals from the other day- it wasn't a very good batch, either, so no harm done." Once that bit of trouble was cleaned up, he dumped the results into a wastebasket and pulled the chair out from its hiding place. "Sorry. I don't usually get company up here. Romana's TARDIS is much nicer to begin with and nobody else's really shown much of an interest. Sit if you like- I need to get my PDA and the meter."

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He looks around the room. Sit, yeah, right. Where? Looked to be standing room only. "I'll stand. Been sitting on my ass too long anyway."

Still looking around the room, or disaster area would come to mind more, he asks, "So, wire me up, or whatever then. Just easy on the electroshocks, already went through that with Egon. And he's still not getting any of my brain, my eyeballs, or any other important body parts. That goes for you, too. So, leaving here still intact would be good."

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Ray shrugs. "Suit yourself," he says, and starts stacking things on the chair again. "And the only way you're going to get a shock is if you lick one of the sensors or something. Speaking of which, I think I just found my PDA- no, that's the holocomputer. Here, hold this, would you?" He hands over a small grey device somewhat larger than both his hands together. "That bad boy's incredibly useful. Nothing like full three dimensional modeling software from the twenty-fourth century to make a really complicated wiring problem come clear... okay, here we go. Gimme a second." He turns towards the wall with a device in his hands; a few moments later he starts murmuring, which lasts for maybe ten or fifteen seconds. Then he turns back. "Okay, we're in."

He smiles at the look. "Multiple biometric security systems combined with a voice recognition algorithm plus present/not present PKE detection make it really hard for anyone to get at my data, even if they try by coercing me instead of just hacking. And I wanted your baseline info to start with. Now, if you don't mind holding still I'll get the neural activity rig for you, so we can see what's going on when I start with the questions and the other scanning..."

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Peter made a face at that, "Not even if they were chocolate-flavored." He uneasily takes the holocomputer, and holds it up.

And why anybody would want to coerce Ray for information, but he had to admire Ray being cautious. "Any chance we can set up something like that for my room and my gear. Better to be safe, considering some of this place's whack-a-loons."

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"No, no, no flavored adhesives," Ray said. "I'm not a dentist. Okay, I have enough space- give that back now- thank you." He set the computer aside on the bed. "All right, this should be safe enough- it worked on me when I built it, anyway..."

'This' looked like Ray just took the sensors one normally attached to the head for an electroencephalogram and wired them into a semipermanent framework to avoid having to glue things into place. Granted, there were more sensor points than usual, but they were a lot smaller. And connected by more colorful wires, but that was neither here nor there.

"Oh, yeah, I can do that," Ray said. "At least for your stuff. I don't know if we're allowed to modify the doors, seeing as how they're bar property. Still, can't hurt to ask the next time I talk to Bernard. The rig goes on with this part towards the front..."

He started tapping the PDA screen until he found the folder with Peter's old readings in it. "Okay. Uh, before I start running any active-mode tests beyond this-" He holds up the switched-on PKE emter. "Mind telling me if you've had any new developments on the visual perceptions front since last time, or anything else along those lines?"

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"Oh, well, maybe there's already something for the doors? There haven't been any break-ins?" It's a place at the end of the universe, not Lower West Manhattan or Queens, or even Newark, NJ for that matter.

He sighed, "Uh, visual-wise, I think I'm starting to pick up auras. Looks like a haze around people. I mean, I think that's what it is. Matches the theories about it at least."

He tilts his head to the side. There it is again. "Been getting this weird buzz at times, like now. Not sure of what since it's still faint. Oh, and mood slime's not the only thing that can make a toaster dance anymore. Dishes in my room been getting lively sometimes, too. Only on Uncle Pete's not-so happy days."

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"Well, there's mundane locks," Ray said. "I haven't heard of anybody having stuff stolen out of their room, either, and we've got an actual detective team working as part of Bar Security now. Barry's one of them. I'd've heard if someone'd tried to pop a lock and walk off with anybody's stuff."

And then Ray's eyebrows started climbing. "You're kidding," he said, in a tone bordering on awestruck. "Seriously? You're actually- oh, wow... Actual psychokinetic manifestations? Sweet. The vast majority of emotionally linked psychokinetic emergent activity cases are prepubescent teenagers- having it crop up in an adult is almost unheard of! Then again you don't normally get emergent activity in an adult anyway since the brain's already laid down all the pathways it intends to put up with, but it's not unheard of, even outside the Ardais studies... Wow. Just wow."

He shook his head and glanced at the meter, then coughed a little. "Um. You said you could hear something, right? How long does that last? Does it come and go, or...?"

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Well, that was a relief at least.

"Down, Ray, quit drooling." Venkman chided him. Even though he knew it was a wasted effort. Ray would get research-happy about the darnedest things.

He listened again. Nope, gone again. "Not very long. A minute tops. So a big yes on the come and go part."

Curious himself, he figured he test something, too, though hopefully it wouldn't cause too many problems. He really didn't want any of this stuff flying around.

So he dredged up memories of all of his least favorite people to see what would happen. That harper guy, Draverhaven, Peck. His expression doesn't change, but inside, he's seething with rage.

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"Oh, come on-" Ray's protest abruptly died as the meter's arms slumped, an event which coincided nicely with Venkman's statement about coming and going. "Oooh," he said. "That could be significant. Do you-"

Up went the arms again. Not much. But some.

"Okay, Peter, uh... what are you doing?"

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Peter ignored Ray's questions, and focused more on the emotions. He had his mind bring up any bad memories he had in his lifetime, anytime he felt stressed, betrayed, alone. Most especially, any time there had been a threat to those he cared about.

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The meter beeped a little more loudly. Ray glanced over his shoulder towards the computer, which sat in passive 'receive' mode on the bed-

Tink, tink, tink went the pile of paperclips that'd been left on the corner of the card table as they suddenly decided it would be a really good time to scatter and head for separate cover.

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Meanwhile, his masked expression had since dropped, and he looked to be snarling, his hands now clenched tightly into fists. His eyes were unfocused as he was lost in his emotions, everything that he kept boarded up normally now out. All the aggravation he'd been dealing with since he got here, and then some.

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Not that Ray was looking, mind you. The paperclips had his attention. So did a number of other things; this was, after all, a room of a whole lot of loose and potentially breakable things. "Uh, Pete," he said as carefully as he dared, "this'd be a really good point at which to not go into the dark side of the Force, okay?"

At which point he had to duck, because one of the few books actually kept on a shelf- a thick, heavy copy of the Merck Index- leapt from its moorings. As did several of the other books lying around, and more than a few loose papers.

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And it wasn't so much that Peter was ignoring him this time, it was just he couldn't hear anything more. Tremors were running through his body at this point, heart rate skyrocketing, breathing fast and erratic, and his knuckles were bone white at this point, the fingernails digging into the palms, and breaking the skin.

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Of all the times not to have a table worth hiding under... Ray knew trouble when he saw it, all right. Instinctively he flattened himself against the wall, or tried to. The small fire extinguisher he'd fastened there made that hard.

Fire extinguisher.

They turned hoses on dogs and fired water guns at cats when they got out of line, didn't they?

Ray shoved the meter safely under the bed and yanked the extinguisher loose from the wall, praying silently that he wasn't going to have to use it in the next five seconds.

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

And well, a fire extinguisher or a hose or something might be good at this point, because Venkman was way out of it, and wasn't going to respond without some sort of external stimuli.

And there was an ominous rattling sound coming from Ray's equipment which was very concerning.

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Yeah, that was about what Ray had been afraid of.

Grimacing, he yanked the pin loose, took aim, and pulled the extinguisher's trigger. The result was quite an impressive cascade of water released from pressure- or it would've been if Ray wasn't a little more used to the kind of display you got from hyper-accelerated protons coming out of hand-held devices. Oh well.

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And Peter staggered, and almost fell down. He coughed a few times, and stared down at himself, stumbling a step or two. Wet clothes, wet hair? He was soaked. WTF?

"Ray, does this place have sprinklers? Why am I all wet?" He blinks, and rubs his eyes a bit to see clearly. Funny, he didn't remember the room being that messy. His hands were stinging a little, and his fingers felt stiff. He stared at the faint nailmarks in his palms.

"What just happened?"

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Ray exhaled massively. Suddenly he'd never been so glad to hear somebody speak in his entire life. "It wasn't sprinklers," he said, holding up the extinguisher. "It was me. You just had a little moment and I couldn't think how else to snap you out of it. Sorry about that... uh, you can take off the rig now. And whatever it is you were thinking about right after my last question? Please don't think about that again until I have time to bolt down all the breakables."

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"A moment? What?" He then remembered his own little experiment. Crap. He hadn't meant for it to get out of hand.

"Sorry, Ray." He took off the rig, and gently set it down, trying to make up for what he did.

"I figured I might test something out with my emotions with your gadgets going to see what it would pick up. Must have lost control." And normally he was good at control. Guessing when he let go, the floodgates opened up.

Looking around, and seeing how scared Ray was, he grimaced, "I'm really sorry. I didn't break anything important, did I?"

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"It's okay," Ray said, moving to collect the scattered books and papers. "Jeez. Last time I saw this much activity the kid was thirteen and was going through serious adoption angst on top of a move and a school change. We have got to find you Professor Xavier or someone. Maybe one of the Skywalkers, assuming their technique's even teachable to people who're just PKs, not Jedi."

It was easier to take if he kept the prospect at a nice, professional remove. Yeah, he'd almost lost several weeks' work and he'd been forced to subdue his best friend with a fire extinguisher, but if he just thought about it as one more part of the job, it wasn't that bad. Right? Right.

"Huh?" he said, looking up. "Uh- no, I don't think you..." He gave the crystal solutions a careful examination. "No. No, you didn't get that far, it's all okay. How about you? Are you all right?"

Belatedly, he grabbed the remainder of the pile of books out of his chair and offered the chair to Peter. He'd sit down on the bed or something once he got everything back in order.

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This time, Peter did sit, suddenly finding a need for it.

"Shaken, and stirred. Christ, Ray. We've spent our lives investigating stuff like this, and now, I'm the latest bust. Why me?" He ran his fingers through his hair, and noticed a considerable amount of strands against his fingers when he looked at them. Great, he was going to be as bald as his dad by next year at this rate.

((OOC: This has been so freakin' great. Unfortunately, mun's got a bus to catch in a few. Wrap or slowtime? And also, probably won't be online that much until Monday again.))

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"I don't know, Pete," Ray said, plopping onto the bed. "God, I wish I did. I'd take the whole mess for you if I could, but I can't even begin to guess why it's gone and hit you now of all times... I mean, aside from probably having something to do with your arriving here, but since I have yet to hear of anyone else who developed psychic powers due to arrival at Milliways I'm guessing it was more a matter of the talent starting to emerge and you winding up here so that you'd be able to find someone to help you get it under control."

He shook his head wearily. "We need to find you a teacher. That's for certain. An untrained or half-trained telepath is a danger to himself and everyone around him, and an untrained psychokinetic is a Richard Bachman novel waiting to happen. I don't want you hurting yourself, but I apparently have all the mental powers of an olive, so it's not like I can help you with it... dammit."

((OOC: Not a problem. This mun's got skate club tonight and was about to ask about slowtiming or wrapping; I'm fine with fading to black here if you are.))

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Peter then got up, and went to leave.

"Uh, alright to do a raincheck on this, and save the guinea pig bit for another time? Before I make the room collaspe or something?" He gingerly stepped his way out to the hallway to head to his room.

((OOC: K, wrap for now. then. have fun, and a good weekend to ya!))