(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.

Comments

[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.