gone_byebye | (no subject)

"Just a visit to the firehouse. And possibly the aquarium? Oh and maybe the library, if there's time."

Did they have a set agenda? Hmm.

Ryan rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "I'm afraid we're playing tourist, once we get some initial testing out of the way."

He arches an eyebrow at the other two humans sized folk.

"Is that correct?"

"About the size of it," Ray agrees. "If there's anybody you want to meet, let me know now. Egon's on his way home from an antique book fair at the old Armory on Sixty-fifth, but the other guys are mostly out."

River cocks an eyebrow at Ryan, a smile blossoming at the mention of antique books.

"Let's get the necessaries out of the way first, and then we'll go adventuring. Possibly for dinner. If I know Captain Ryan, he'll be hungry enough to eat a horse by dinner time

It's an expression.

"Entirely possible," Ryan allows innocently before telling Ray, "I'll be sure to let the ones across the street alone."

He would like to see Winston, but he feels there's little point when the other man won't know him. It would just be...strange.

"If you're really dead set on horsemeat there are a few vendors on the island who can provide it," Ray says. "Otherwise we'll see what we can do. In the meantime, come on inside, and try not to look like you have jellybeans in your pockets."

"I was kidding! It's only an expression." She loops her arm through Ryan's, blushing a bit. "He knows I was kidding, doesn't he?"

"I think he's used to dining with those with odd food tastes," Ryan says thoughtfully, guiding River after Ray.

"I can tell you he wasn't kidding about the jelly beans." He's already keeping a sharp eye out for a certain ghost.

"In my line of work it just doesn't pay to assume anything," Ray says. "Between the Deep Ones, the ghosts, my dead grandfather, and the French ambassador to the Deep Ones, things can get a little odd when it comes menu time. And then there's Slimer, who eats anything that's not nailed down or made of chromium steel."

River's eyes widen a touch at the sincerity in Ray's scent. "But... if he's non-corporeal? Why would he want to ingest anything? And can he? And you never mentioned your dead grandfather, did you?"

"Because that's what Slimer does." He's grumbling a bit. Don't mind him. He's starting to rethink his decision to hide scents and not notice the ozone coming.

He looks to Ray. "At least the one in the universe I visited. Is this one any different?"

"He's not as smart as the one in the animated continuum," Ray says after a moment's thought. "He understands English reasonably well but he's only got pet-level intelligence at best. The other Slimer was capable of reading and the occasional act of assisting in household maintenance. This spud... well, he's about as bright as you'd expect a reasonably intelligent personification of the concept of 'appetite' to be, no more."

"I'm not sure if I did or not. Grandpa Maxim manifests once a week at Ben's Kosher Deli up on Thirty-eighth. He was a Marine- died when I was thirteen years old, buried in his uniform. Somehow or other he managed to sell the uniform so that he could manifest at the deli and be a paying customer with full right and reason to appear on the premises instead of being a mere haunting. We meet on Thursdays. He likes pastrami."

"Oh my goodness. Well, I see your aversion to him, then." She's looking around a bit, taking in the sights of the firehouse.

"And Ray that's -- wonderful. How amazing to be able to meet him and converse with him. I bet there are war stories aplenty."

Ryan glowers a bit at nothing in particular as Ray finishes describing Slimer.

He sets it aside soon enough to listen to Ray answer the question.

"Oh yeah. Grandpa Maxim fought in the Pacific theater during World War 2. He's great conversation, but he takes constant advantage of the fact that he's a non-corporeal entity now to disappear whenever my back is turned and the check arrives. Not that he doesn't leave partial payment, but okay this is the part where you duck and cover your heads, all right?"

"GRBLAH!" yells Slimer cheerfully as the spud descends through a patch of ceiling quite close to what appears to be a full-sized hanging carnosaur skull of some kind.

River, for her part, does as instructed, using Richard as a shield. The snarl that boils up in her throat is completely involuntary.

She's so cute.

Ryan's also crouched, eyes sharp and watching, ready to move the both of them should Slimer turn their way. There's also one hand in his pocket on what's left of the gum. He'll pitch it in a heartbeat if he has to.

Ray, fortunately, is used to this. "Slimer!" he calls. "Watermelon seeds! Catch!"

The spud dives immediately for the cheesecloth bundle Ray tosses in his direction, yammering merrily to himself as he tears it open and starts stuffing his appallingly wide gape with the little black handfuls. Ray exhales massively. "Man. Remind me to thank the guys at Aji Ichiban. Seasoned candied watermelon seeds are a godsend."

Ryan starts to stand, extending a hand to River.

"They work better than-" he shoots a glance at the green ghost, "-better than the other things?"

He's afraid that if he actually says 'jelly beans', he will be slimed.

River takes his hand, interlacing her fingers with his, pulling in tight behind him as she peers over his shoulder at the spectacle.

"Dear sweet Galileo on a pogo stick. That's a -- ghost?"

"Like I said, I'm pretty sure he's more of an embodiment of the concept of appetite than the ectoplasmic remains of a formerly living individual," Ray says. "But, yes, that's pretty much a ghost. He doesn't hunt the seeds down nearly as much as he does the other things, so keeping them around spares me scrubbing off a lot of ectoplasmic goo."

A minute shudder goes through Ryan's shoulders. He hasn't missed the ectoplasm.

"While that's keeping him busy, I believe we should get started?"

"Yes, please."

This sounds like a double plus good idea at the moment, as she watches little black seeds and sticky ectoplasm fly in a two foot radius around Slimer.

"Oh ugh."

"That, right there? That's my typical workday. When I'm not on the State Department's clock, anyway." Ray shrugs. "Anyway. That's Slimer. He was the first ghost we ever busted. The betta in the tank on Janine's desk there is Walter Peck, a former Environmental Protection Agency agent with some serious issues and a bad temper. The skull hanging from the ceiling was the result of a very unfortunate incident wherein I followed a Milliways patron back to her world, which happened to be Earth around a hundred and ten million years ago. If you'll follow me up the stairs I can show you some of the labs here before we continue on our way- oh, and our library, it's not much in terms of size but it's one of the best specialized collections of esoteric lore and history this side of Miskatonic."

...tourists, right. He remembers how to play this. And he is genuinely interested in the differences between the animated continuum and this one.

"Fair enough." He allows himself a faint smile. River will want to look at the books, he knows. "Lead the way."