Chicago

[gone_byebye]

The door opens onto a construction scene as the sun is setting. "This is Navy Pier," says Ray. "The Robert Mackenzie was supposed to come in here back when it was still a serious commercial facility. We're kind of assuming that's where it's trying to come back to."

Comments

[mago_sonriente]

He pulls off his sword and sticks it into the ground behind him. He didn't want metal on him when he did this. It just wouldn't be good. Especially not that sword.

Then he reaches out a hand and grabs the staff, banging it two times on the ground, then a third, before raising it to the sky.

"Ilhuicaxitiatletleco!"

And that... that was either going to do it or--

Holy shit this is gonna hurt--

[gone_byebye]

There's a moment when everything seems to hold its breath, and the smell of ozone fills the air. Ray and Egon, who've had some experience with this kind of thing, step backwards swiftly.

Then the lightning strikes, knifing its way downward towards Ramirez' staff with unstoppable force. When the blue-white levin light clears and people can see again, the winds've picked up once more- but they're spinning upwards, scouring into the clouds and pushing them apart in every conceivable direction.

"What the hell was that?"

[mago_sonriente]

The Witch of November versus the Wizard from Los Angeles.

The energy courses through him, burning so good he's laughing, grinning wild and mad and it hurts, dios mio but it hurts and every cell in his body feels like it's going to explode from the strain of it but he adjusts it, reaches back and grabs the sword and grounds himself between the two impliments as the winds begin to tear at the storm, tear the clouds apart, breaking up the low pressure systems and all.

[gone_byebye]

"Captain," says Winston, "I think we're gonna need some people-"

"Already on it, Mr. Zeddmore," says the Coast Guard captain with a grin. She points a little further up the pier to where a slew of midshipmen and lesser officers are preparing the dock for the ship's arrival.

Winston grins, looking up at the sky; the sound of helicopter blades can be heard. "Mr. Phillips," he says into the microphone, "here's what I'm gonna need you to do..."

[mago_sonriente]

For his part, as the storm finally clears, Carlos promptly falls over.

...he's cool.

...and he's good.

But he's not that good.

[gone_byebye]

It takes a moment or two for that to be noticed. Most everybody's attention is focused on either the faintly flickering (if mostly solid) ship slowly veering this way and that among the still-whipped-up waves on the lake, or on Winston as he reads off the Coast Guard's chart to the spirits at sea.

( hear me call across the waves: )

Most everybody- eventually Venkman and one of the junior Coasties, who's considerably younger and more attractive than her captain, spot Carlos and move to haul him out of the way to somewhere more comfortable.

( if I don't come home tonight, )

The storm is rapidly blowing itself out as the ship eases its way around the deadly six-fathom shoal and sets a course straight for the pier.

( I will make it home someday... )

It's fairly glowing as it slows itself down for the final approach.

[mago_sonriente]

Carlos is busy being passed out for the moment.

[gone_byebye]

No one's ever accused Venkman of being a medical genius, which is why he lets the Coastie confirm that Carlos' vitals are all right. He is, however, a reasonably dedicated Ghostbuster, which is why he twists around to see how Winston and company are doing... and why he's watching when the Robert Mackenzie finally manages, despite the remaining wind and rain, to halt at the dock and throw down its anchor.

"Where's the harbormaster?" calls one of the figures lined up along the ship's rail; they're all men, from their early twenties well into their late fifties, but they're all translucent and vaguely luminescent. A quick count turns up thirty-one of- ah, no, there's thirty-two. The man at the helm's come out along with the rest.

The Ghostbusters look to the Coast Guard captain, who steps forward and draws a deep breath. "I'm as close as you're going to get, gentlemen," she calls back, the spectral light from the ship playing over her features. "What can I do for you boys?"

A particularly tall, haggard-looking man raises his hand and smiles. "Captain Joshua Phillips requesting permission to disembark, ma'am," he says. "Permanently."

"Permission granted, Captain," says the woman. "Welcome home."

And, one by one, the crew of the Robert Mackenzie make their way down the gangplank... and, one by one, as their feet touch the surface of the pier they'd set out for all those years ago, their forms shimmer one last time and vanish.

[mago_sonriente]

A few minutes later, the Warden's eyes start to flutter and his fingers clench tight around the sword and the staff.

Then he groans, which his how he knows he's alive.

"Okay, oowww."

[gone_byebye]

At the rate the men are disembarking, he's just in time for Venkman and the Coastie to help him sit up and point him at the last of the Mackenzie's crew- the captain, who's standing at the very foot of the gangplank. "I wanted to thank you all," he says, "but two of you especially. You, sir-"

For a moment, as Winston stands up to greet him, Captain Phillips becomes visibly more solid. It's enough for him to shake Winston's hand and grin, but he slips back into translucency almost as soon as he lets go.

"And the young man who pulled that storm's fangs."

"Think you can stand up?" Peter asks. "No offense, but you're a little big to carry."

[mago_sonriente]

Carlos gives Venkman a look before getting to his feet and making his way over. He's not leaning on his staff, but he's not just carrying it.

He gives the captain a smile when he gets there.

"Hola."

[gone_byebye]

Venkman is a New York smartass. He fears no mere look.

Captain Phillips nods. "Son, you did real good," he says. "On behalf of my crew and my ship, and myself... thank you."

Once again, he pulls himself to something a little more solid as he sticks out a hand for the shaking.

[mago_sonriente]

Carlos gives a tired grin before taking the hand and giving it a good shake.

"No problem, man. Call me next time you wanna party, all right?"

[gone_byebye]

Captain Phillips laughs. "If Saint Peter says it's your time, sure will," he says. "You take care, okay?"

He lets go of Carlos' hand and takes a step forward. A moment later, there's a shower of shimmering twinkles in mid-air, and he's gone... and so is the ship. There's only smears of gleaming, faintly glowing ectoplasm on the pier and the water's surface to show that they were ever there.

Overhead, the stars are starting to come out.

[mago_sonriente]

"Can be beer time now?" he asks, looking at Ray hopefully.

[gone_byebye]

"Sure thing," Ray says, as Peter heads over to speak to the representatives from the city government who've been watching from a safe distance. "Although when you get the chance-" He jerks his head towards Winston. "No big hurry, though. You did a lot tonight."

[mago_sonriente]

He nods. Nods and nods and nods.

"Nap?"

[gone_byebye]

"Right this way," Ray says, and he and Egon (Winston being over with the Coast Guard delegation now) get on either side of Carlos and head for somewhere suitably dry.

Preferably with a door, since that means Milliways and that means cushy rooms.

[mago_sonriente]

Carlos gives an enthusiastic thumbs up... but most of his brains are centered on holding onto his staff and not falling down.