Ray blinks as his vision adjusts to the fact that he's not looking for a big white head at an altitude of a hundred feet. It's rather like sending a tall person to make contact with Edward Elric without warning them about his height issues first; his gaze has to go down, and down, and...
... okay, yeah, there it is...
"That's... not right," Ray manages. Absently he slices a particularly inept ghost in half- he'd only meant to swat it away but there really isn't a 'swatting away' option on your standard issue lightsaber.
"I'll say it ain't," says Peter, who's come over to stare as well. "That's Irving Central!"
Ray turns and looks sidelong at Peter. "Irving what?"
"Irving Central," Peter repeats. "That's the guy behind Central Park- the man they named the whole thing after?"
The statue frowns up at the building a moment more before turning to face the Park again.
"... uh, Peter, I thought it was called Central Park because it was right in the center of the island-"
Even twenty-eight stories up and surrounded by the wailing spirits of the dead (and the grunting shuffle of Louis Tully), the statue's piercing whistle can be heard.
"Shyeah, right, and I suppose next you're gonna tell me that Grand Central Station's not named after Horace Grand, either."
The trees of the Park start to shake, as if Eddie were suddenly descending everywhere at once.
"Horace-" Ray chokes. This must be what it feels like to go mad, he catches himself thinking.
Down below, the few living who remain on the street- mounted police mostly- let out exclamations of utter shock. Creatures are leaping the wall- not dead things, creatures- and people-
"Holy cow, Ray, it looks like half the statues in the Park've come to life!" exclaims Peter.
"More than that," says Egon. "They're-"
"Attacking the walking dead," says Ray in a tone of wonder- because they are. "Andrew? ANDREW! Let's get cracking- we're gonna have company!"
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2005-10-12 04:58 am (UTC)... okay, yeah, there it is...
"That's... not right," Ray manages. Absently he slices a particularly inept ghost in half- he'd only meant to swat it away but there really isn't a 'swatting away' option on your standard issue lightsaber.
"I'll say it ain't," says Peter, who's come over to stare as well. "That's Irving Central!"
Ray turns and looks sidelong at Peter. "Irving what?"
"Irving Central," Peter repeats. "That's the guy behind Central Park- the man they named the whole thing after?"
The statue frowns up at the building a moment more before turning to face the Park again.
"... uh, Peter, I thought it was called Central Park because it was right in the center of the island-"
Even twenty-eight stories up and surrounded by the wailing spirits of the dead (and the grunting shuffle of Louis Tully), the statue's piercing whistle can be heard.
"Shyeah, right, and I suppose next you're gonna tell me that Grand Central Station's not named after Horace Grand, either."
The trees of the Park start to shake, as if Eddie were suddenly descending everywhere at once.
"Horace-" Ray chokes. This must be what it feels like to go mad, he catches himself thinking.
Down below, the few living who remain on the street- mounted police mostly- let out exclamations of utter shock. Creatures are leaping the wall- not dead things, creatures- and people-
"Holy cow, Ray, it looks like half the statues in the Park've come to life!" exclaims Peter.
"More than that," says Egon. "They're-"
"Attacking the walking dead," says Ray in a tone of wonder- because they are. "Andrew? ANDREW! Let's get cracking- we're gonna have company!"