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Nov. 29th, 2007 10:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gone_byebyeWhen the door opens from Milliways, Ray very nearly does the White Boy Dance of Uncoordinated Flaily Joy. It's the alleyway. It's the alleyway between the Firehouse and the Bubble Bar Champagne Lounge. It's the alleyway and it's not Antarctica. That's really all he could possibly hope to ask for at a time like this and it's everything he can do not to get down and boogie in a way completely unbecoming a Jedi, even a force-blind one.
When he checks the New York Post vending machine on the street in front of the Firehouse he really does do the White Boy Dance of Uncoordinated Flaily Joy, because it's still the same day. Time might've passed in Milliways while he was on Mythos Earth, but it sure as heck didn't pass here. He hasn't been missing. He hasn't been missing at all. He's home, he's safe, it's all right! Of course he's going to flail around like a freshly landed salmon in the bottom of a boat! Something finally went right!
Ecto's not there when he steps into the Firehouse. Of course she's not there. She and Winston had left for Floyd Bennett Field earlier so that she could go out and play with Francis without getting in anybody's way. That's fine, he's good with that, he only barely remembers it but remember it he does, and when Janine gets up to ask him if he's okay, well, she's getting the full Jimmy Stewart whoop of joy and dance-with-me from the end of It's A Wonderful Life. He'd do the same for the Siamese fighting fish on her desk, but even with a labyrinth organ those don't really appreciate being made to deal with the air all that much, so Ray just raids Janine's desk drawers until he finds the packet of dried Tubifex worms and drops in a treat for the perpetually surly fishy form of Walter Peck.
By the time everyone else comes back Ray's managed to get himself a little more coherent, at least enough to give an explanation. Egon has his PKE meter out within a syllable and a half of the word 'Arkham', and the look on Peter's face as Ray's explanation progresses would be considered priceless if the term wasn't necessary for the look on Egon's face when Ray produces his diploma from Miskatonic and his Sumerian-language notes on the Antarctic expedition. (He did, after all, get to see the upper levels of the underground complex of the Elder Things- he might have been there to trade himself for Gedney, but that didn't mean he didn't want to take notes on what he saw!) Ray is only too happy to let Egon hook him up to every possible testing device and piece of analytical equipment they own after that. It's technology. It's their technology, not some bizarre eldritch hybrid of principles beyond the ken of ordinary men. It's the stuff that home is made of.
There'll be a lot more discussion in the days ahead, in between all the rhythms of everyday life in a city under slow but constant siege from the restless dead, but for now everything is as good as Ray could ever ask for. And when the boundless ebullient energy that's kept Ray moving since his arrival finally wears off and he's too exhausted to go upstairs, Ecto pops open her back door.
Ray's never slept anywhere so comfortable in his life as the back seat of that car feels right now.
When he checks the New York Post vending machine on the street in front of the Firehouse he really does do the White Boy Dance of Uncoordinated Flaily Joy, because it's still the same day. Time might've passed in Milliways while he was on Mythos Earth, but it sure as heck didn't pass here. He hasn't been missing. He hasn't been missing at all. He's home, he's safe, it's all right! Of course he's going to flail around like a freshly landed salmon in the bottom of a boat! Something finally went right!
Ecto's not there when he steps into the Firehouse. Of course she's not there. She and Winston had left for Floyd Bennett Field earlier so that she could go out and play with Francis without getting in anybody's way. That's fine, he's good with that, he only barely remembers it but remember it he does, and when Janine gets up to ask him if he's okay, well, she's getting the full Jimmy Stewart whoop of joy and dance-with-me from the end of It's A Wonderful Life. He'd do the same for the Siamese fighting fish on her desk, but even with a labyrinth organ those don't really appreciate being made to deal with the air all that much, so Ray just raids Janine's desk drawers until he finds the packet of dried Tubifex worms and drops in a treat for the perpetually surly fishy form of Walter Peck.
By the time everyone else comes back Ray's managed to get himself a little more coherent, at least enough to give an explanation. Egon has his PKE meter out within a syllable and a half of the word 'Arkham', and the look on Peter's face as Ray's explanation progresses would be considered priceless if the term wasn't necessary for the look on Egon's face when Ray produces his diploma from Miskatonic and his Sumerian-language notes on the Antarctic expedition. (He did, after all, get to see the upper levels of the underground complex of the Elder Things- he might have been there to trade himself for Gedney, but that didn't mean he didn't want to take notes on what he saw!) Ray is only too happy to let Egon hook him up to every possible testing device and piece of analytical equipment they own after that. It's technology. It's their technology, not some bizarre eldritch hybrid of principles beyond the ken of ordinary men. It's the stuff that home is made of.
There'll be a lot more discussion in the days ahead, in between all the rhythms of everyday life in a city under slow but constant siege from the restless dead, but for now everything is as good as Ray could ever ask for. And when the boundless ebullient energy that's kept Ray moving since his arrival finally wears off and he's too exhausted to go upstairs, Ecto pops open her back door.
Ray's never slept anywhere so comfortable in his life as the back seat of that car feels right now.
