A trail of aching derrières- next time they'll be more thoughtful

[gone_byebye]

The door opens onto an expanse of asphalt, steel, and glass. Nearby a sign reads:

WELCOME TO WHITE FLINT MALL
BEST PRICES IN THE DC AREA

4708 BETHESDA AVENUE
CHEVY CHASE, MD

It's a big parking lot, with the mall itself only visible off in the distance. Ray gives it the squint-eye before turning to the others. "Okay, people," he says. "This is it. Johnny says it's underground. Egon's best estimates indicate three miles down. Are we good?"

Comments

[goinghost.livejournal.com]

"Uh...considering that those ground forces had these energy guns that'll probably be a lot more harm to anyone who isn't free-floating and intangible than to me and FX, we should probably haul," Danny said, flying up the hallway to see what was ahead.

[blond-w-brain.livejournal.com]

"That's an excellent idea, Daniel," says Blond. The three adjust their glasses in mirror to each other. "Call back!"

Brown watches behind, occationally sniping with his proton pack around the Horta while commenting on the sad state of the robopede's construction.

Black, however, is watching the ceiling. "a-HA!" he says, and then sends a black from a proton pack skittering across the ceiling. It burns off some tiles, a camera, cuts a hole through a pipe causing water to briefly splash out over the crew, and then goes out. And then he gives Peter that look, the look that says, "I dare you to say that again, Peter Charles Venkman."

[spark-girl.livejournal.com]

Agatha's in a somewhat more serious mood now, and is keeping her gun at the ready. Her clanks are keeping up well -- the latest batch having been made from on-hand materials, there's some interesting tech included in the design.

As always, she's protective of them, and steps between them and the water. She's dripping a bit, but doesn't need to worry about rust prevention.

[gone_byebye]

Two of the smaller robot centipedes had managed to work their way out of the rubble. Egon Brown got one of them. Egon Black, well.... Let's just say the centipedes really weren't designed to be waterproof and call his blast a net positive.

From here on out it's running until the gang encounters a bank of elevators. There's some fuss over how to fit all of them into one car. The issue gets resolved by Ray's suggestion of elevator racing ("we used to do it all the time at Columbia!" "Ray, weren't you fifteen when you started college?" "What's that got to do with it, Winston?"). By the time they reach the other end of the shaft, so many lights and non-essential systems have powered off and winked out that the locals wouldn't have a prayer of catching them.

Ray grins at the panicked bureaucrats who're all struggling to reach the exit first. "Guys?" he asks over his shoulder. "Does anyone mind if I invoke a particular movie memory just now?"

He's got one hand on the proton thrower.

[wyrd-fox.livejournal.com]

Foxtrot takes one look at Ray and starts laughing his head off.

"If anyone does," he says, "I'll smack them for you! Let 'er rip!"

[gone_byebye]

Ray nods and steps forward, twisting the proton pack's intensity dial up to 11.

(Yes, these go to 11.)

"Everybody-"

He takes careful aim at the doors at the far end of the hallway, takes a deep breath, and fires.

"MOVE!!"

[doc-venkman.livejournal.com]

Peter had given Egon a barely innocent look of 'What?' Even though he was definitely not happy about the water.

Funny thing. He seemed drier than most. Weird.

Which made the running part a lot easier, and finally close to the exit.

"Ok, that's the best thing you said all day, Ray!" Peter yelled back to him as he started encouraging the crowd of heroes to beat feet.

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Naraht pulls out in front of the pack and puts on speed as the crowd going through the doors abruptly parts to either side at Ray's "encouragement". Simply put, those doors are too narrow to let a good number of people through at once.

CRASH!

Amazing how proper application of Horta can expand an egress.

[wyrd-fox.livejournal.com]

Foxtrot is the next out...and he skids to a stop when he sees where this door leads. It's an office comlex at first look. But there are a good many more meeting rooms than you'd expect. There are some rather shell-shocked looking people scattered about holding clipboards and pencils.

The kitsune casually strolls up to the front of the office where FC bureaucrats are bolting through the main door...into the mall. He glances at the sign outside and snickers.

"A survey company!" he says. "Figures that a secret, evil organization would use an openly evil company for a front."

[gone_byebye]

Slowly- one by one- the employees of Mid-America Marketing raise their hands over their heads in the universal gesture of 'touchdown'-

Oh, no, wait, sorry, wrong gestural vocabulary set. 'Surrender', more like.

"Please don't shoot," says the woman behind the front desk. "We didn't see anything. We swear."

[redsnout.livejournal.com]

"Phhrt?" Raptor Red eyes the employees curiously for a moment, tilting her head from one side to another in a birdlike fashion. With a snort, she looks back to the rest of the group, doing her best to give them a questioning look-something that's expressed more through her posture than expression. She's not sure if these are the fun, chasable humans or not.

[gone_byebye]

"Not these guys, Red," Ray says firmly. "Just go home. Back to the Bar. Okay? Get out and go."

He gestures to the others. "Okay, people. We've spent enough of these good people's time. Let's boogie on back to the Bar and let them forget we ever darkened their doorstep."

[stilljustandrew]

*Andrew waves cheerily at the office denizens.* Sorry about this, folks. We'll be out of your hair in just a moment.

We got our door back to the Bar, Ray?

[goinghost.livejournal.com]

"...We're done with the scaring people? Awww, maaan."

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Naraht chuckles as he tries to make his way through the desks without causing too much damage.

"All good things must come to an end," he says to Danny.
Then he accidentally jostles a desk and the man sitting behind it with his hands in the air squeaks and faints dead away.

"Ooops. Then again..."

[gone_byebye]

Ray points at the door back to the mall. "That's our way back," he says. "Head on through, everybody. Spengs, tell Ecto I'll be home as soon as I can, okay? And let the NYPD know I'd like my 'sabre back?"

He gestures to the others to head out as they wish.

[blond-w-brain.livejournal.com]

Brown-Egon nods. "I'll do that, Ray. We'll see you when you get back."

The three Egons shake hands, with small smiles and a series of "Dr. Spenger"s, and then head through the door.

Blond-Egon says, "Fido, give." The Dragon bends its head down and drops Walter Peck on his head on the ground, the suit soaked with draconic spittle, then squeezes through the door. "See you in the bar, Ray. Dr. Spengler, if you will?" Black-hair-Egon bows a little and goes into the bar, and Blond-Egon follows along.

[gone_byebye]

Ray nods. "I'll be along in a second-" He looks back at the people of Mid-America Marketing. "Okay, everybody. Sorry we made such a mess around here. You can send the bill to one Mr. Alphonse Jannot, of the Environmental Protection Agency, care of Project Foliage Census. He'll be happy to lend a hand cleaning up."

He grins, counts over who's left, and waves. "You all take care now, okay?"

And then he's gone.

[wyrd-fox.livejournal.com]

Foxtrot is the last of the group. He begins to exit...but turns around at the last second with a manic grin on his face. Several employees start calculating the distance between them and the nearest solid object big enought to hide behind.

But that precaution turns out to be unnecessary. Suddenly there's a cartoon pig standing in place of the young man.

"A-bedea-badea-badea-That's All Folks!" he yells before he vanishes through the door.