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Feb. 21st, 2005 11:42 am55 Central Park West
Rooftop
October 5, 2003
There's a good several hundred thousand people gathered below. There are- or were, haven't heard them lately- helicopters in the sky overhead, lots of 'em, cops, FDNY, TSA. There's so much psychokinetic energy charging the air that he can taste it- nasty, metallic, coppery, smoky. He's surprised he's not feeling the stuff condensing out on his skin. It's got to have reached the saturation point by now, right? Right? What with the whole rooftop transformed into one great big dimensional portal and all. The door's practically been kicked open. Shandor got the ball rolling pretty well, before he died. Yeah, he was a complete lunatic, but you had to admire the man's skill.
At least until mundane reality dumped a bucket of cold water over you in the form of Pete Venkman. “Go get her, Ray!”
Oh. Right.
You saw a lot of things in this job if you kept your eyes open. Any kind of halfway decent parapsychologist could quote you chapter and verse from Tobin's Spirit Guide on the most common manifestations of major unclassifiable spirit entities and their preferred visual aspects. He couldn't remember too many of the ones tied to Fertile Crescent eschatological beliefs being cited as having a penchant for Saran Wrap, but then he hadn't really had time to consult the Guide in Ecto-1 on the way over. There might've been something. Of course, Gozer kind of stood out in his- sorry, her- own right. There weren't a whole lot of pre-Assyrian spirit entities even capable of manifesting on this side of the Atlantic. God, what he wouldn't have given for about a month's worth of time to study this one!
But there wasn't any time, was there? Not with it looking at him. Along with the guys, and any choppers that might be left alive.
He takes a deep breath. Some of the really promising studies coming out of Russia indicated really strongly that even the most mundane of civic symbols of authority worked exactly as well as the traditional crucifix to repel invading entities, as long as the wielder carried sufficient belief. And right now, oh, right now he had the weight of everything the Mayor and the City Council and, hah, even the Governor could do behind him...
"Gozer the Gozerian... good evening. As a duly designated representative of the City, County and State of New York, I order you to cease any and all supernatural activity and return forthwith to your place of origin or to the nearest convenient parallel dimension."
Perfect silence. Dead silence. The thing stares at him. It's working.
“Thanks, Ray, I think that'll do it.”
He grins at Venkman-
It speaks, and its voice is like a gecko with a throat full of gravel. ”Are you a god?”
That, he didn't expect. “Um... no?”
“Then...”
It occurs to him suddenly that the Russian studies were focused almost entirely on indigenous hearth-spirits and vampiric entities. Not a single word in Spooks, Spirits and Poltergeists about eschatological manifestations.
”-die.”
The bolt of power catches him square in the gut, lifts him off his feet, and slams him backward so hard he goes right over the edge of the Shandor Building.
Rooftop
October 5, 2003
There's a good several hundred thousand people gathered below. There are- or were, haven't heard them lately- helicopters in the sky overhead, lots of 'em, cops, FDNY, TSA. There's so much psychokinetic energy charging the air that he can taste it- nasty, metallic, coppery, smoky. He's surprised he's not feeling the stuff condensing out on his skin. It's got to have reached the saturation point by now, right? Right? What with the whole rooftop transformed into one great big dimensional portal and all. The door's practically been kicked open. Shandor got the ball rolling pretty well, before he died. Yeah, he was a complete lunatic, but you had to admire the man's skill.
At least until mundane reality dumped a bucket of cold water over you in the form of Pete Venkman. “Go get her, Ray!”
Oh. Right.
You saw a lot of things in this job if you kept your eyes open. Any kind of halfway decent parapsychologist could quote you chapter and verse from Tobin's Spirit Guide on the most common manifestations of major unclassifiable spirit entities and their preferred visual aspects. He couldn't remember too many of the ones tied to Fertile Crescent eschatological beliefs being cited as having a penchant for Saran Wrap, but then he hadn't really had time to consult the Guide in Ecto-1 on the way over. There might've been something. Of course, Gozer kind of stood out in his- sorry, her- own right. There weren't a whole lot of pre-Assyrian spirit entities even capable of manifesting on this side of the Atlantic. God, what he wouldn't have given for about a month's worth of time to study this one!
But there wasn't any time, was there? Not with it looking at him. Along with the guys, and any choppers that might be left alive.
He takes a deep breath. Some of the really promising studies coming out of Russia indicated really strongly that even the most mundane of civic symbols of authority worked exactly as well as the traditional crucifix to repel invading entities, as long as the wielder carried sufficient belief. And right now, oh, right now he had the weight of everything the Mayor and the City Council and, hah, even the Governor could do behind him...
"Gozer the Gozerian... good evening. As a duly designated representative of the City, County and State of New York, I order you to cease any and all supernatural activity and return forthwith to your place of origin or to the nearest convenient parallel dimension."
Perfect silence. Dead silence. The thing stares at him. It's working.
“Thanks, Ray, I think that'll do it.”
He grins at Venkman-
It speaks, and its voice is like a gecko with a throat full of gravel. ”Are you a god?”
That, he didn't expect. “Um... no?”
“Then...”
It occurs to him suddenly that the Russian studies were focused almost entirely on indigenous hearth-spirits and vampiric entities. Not a single word in Spooks, Spirits and Poltergeists about eschatological manifestations.
”-die.”
The bolt of power catches him square in the gut, lifts him off his feet, and slams him backward so hard he goes right over the edge of the Shandor Building.
