(no subject)

[gone_byebye]

The first thing one notices upon opening the door into New York is that it's hot. August is a hot month in most of the Northern hemisphere, but even for August, it's vile outside. The smell of horse is on the air, and hydrocarbon. A nasty tang of ozone can be felt across the teeth; the sky has an unwholesomely orange cast across the darkness.

Ray glances around and lays a hand on the side of the building next to him. "We're home," he says.

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[gone_byebye]

The foulest stench is in the air, the funk of forty thousand years, and grisly ghouls from every tomb are closing in to seal your doom...

There are times when Ray hates his brain. This is one of them.

And no one's going to save you from the beast about to strike-

He fires, again and again and again. Keep them away, get them out of the way, trap the ones you can-

Night creatures crawl and the dead start to walk in their masquerade, there's no escaping the jaws of the alien this time-

There's a horrible little squeal behind him. THat's the low charge alarm. Followed, two proton bursts later, by the 'shutting down now kthxbai' alarm.

Ray sets his teeth grimly and shucks off his pack. "Keep going, K! I still have you covered!" he calls as he drops the pack to the ground. One hand dips into his uniform, coming up with a silver cylinder the size of a state trooper's maglight.

It is just about possible that the whmmmm of a lightsaber being activated is drowned out by the sudden searing of three proton beams, as the other Ghostbusters charge down the tunnel, but the world may never really know.

[k_in_black]

By the time the Ghostbuster Cavalry arrives, K's pack is on vapors too. He drops the thrower, letting it hang by his side, and whips out the Deatomizer, smacking the dial to its maximum setting. The piercing whine makes three of the ghosts peel off from the pillar and come streaking straight for the Man in Black.

"Come to Poppa," K whispers, then cuts loose.

Wastebaskets don't hit back. Ghosts do. But a Deatomizer can sure ruin their day. The blasts tear into the ghosts, raising some kind of hell with their ectoplasmic fields. Looks like it hurts, and that's good enough for K until the Peter, Egon, and Winston can finish the job.

Then he hears the roar behind him.

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Back in the cavern, the rather intoxicated Horta has come to a conclusion.

Shackles = bad. Therefore, shackles must go.

"Hold still, buddy," he says as he sets to work.

In a manner of moments, a sound like a teakettle orchestra can be heard as Naraht leads the creature out into the cavern while whistling "Closer To Fine". "Hey, Ray!" he laughs. "Look what I found. I'd name him George, but I used that already!"

[gone_byebye]

Ray's in the middle of actively slicing through the few ghosts who're stupid enough to get close when the whistling starts. The ghosts freeze. The Ghostbuster freezes.

The troll bellows, and leaps at the spectral masses.

The anguished wails and scatters of ectoplasm make your typical fight between cats look like a badly choreographed game of Rock Em Sock Em Robots. As the ghosts flee the creature hops away from the worst of the mess (far, far too nimbly for a thing its size, there's no way a monstrosity of that sort can move that swiftly, thinks Ray) and drops gracefully into the pit.

"What the hell?" begins Peter, but he gets no answer. Or, rather, the only answer he gets is the sound of rocks flying and the sudden flow of hissing orange goo, and the end of the terrible grinding noises as the fluid snakes its way all the way up the pillar's many channels.

"Naraht," says Winston, staring as the thing climbs out of the pit and starts examining the pillar, "I think you just let the janitor free."

[k_in_black]

K lets the Deatomizer drop to his side and watches as the troll roars by. He watches for a bit, nods, and then silently walks back over to the Ghostbusters, arms still down at his sides.

He gives Ray a look like, 'I take it our work here is done,' then turns to watch the far more preferable mayhem erupting around the pillar.

If his New York has one of these, he hopes like hell it doesn't become his problem.

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"I did? Oh good," Naraht says. Voders don't slur, but it does get burts of static due to his current state. Not to mention his path isn't quite the straightest as he moves toward them. "Where'd you come from? Beam in? Think I'd prefer beaming out. The floor's gone rather rippily for some reason. We're not still having earthquakes, are we? Because it would really tick me off to go through all that and not have them stop." He catches sight of Peter. "Dr. Venkman! Good to see you. Though you're not the you I'm used to. Just how many of you are there, anyway. We should hold a convention." He snickers. "Take you all back to the Enterprise for it. I'm sure Commander Peck would be delighted...the sludgehead."

Looks like Naraht's a chattery drunk.

[gone_byebye]

Ray nods to K, switching the saber off and tucking it back into his uniform. The troll looks over their way, grunts, snorts, and does something that may or may not be a salute. He returns the gesture, wobbling a little in exhaustion.

"Nah, we don't have transporter technology," says Winston, who's finally remembered where he's seen the Horta before. And who's remembered that it's not nice to tip your hand too far about the fictional thing. "Ray hasn't worked that one out yet. The car's parked right outside. C'mon, let's get you back to the firehouse- you can sleep it off there..."

"And you," says Peter, turning to K, "are more than welcome to stick around if you want to. Me, I'm gonna be up most of the night dealing with the press and the cops, so you got my bunk if you want it."

Ray rubs at his face with one hand. "Just as long as nobody gets between me and the couch," he mutters. "I dunno if I can even make it up the stairs."

"You good to drive, buddy?" asks Peter, as they start back up the tunnel.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just not once we're home."

Besides, Ray thinks as they reach the car, I kinda think Ecto knows the way herself.

He scarcely even notices the cheering New Yorkers as they make their way home.