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Who You Gonna Call? (ThomasRHellsing x Applepoisoneer)

The ghostbuster nodded, pulling his neutrona wand. Bryan shoot his head a bit as he heard the two talk. He fired a blast of slime from his thrower hoping the positive charge would help soothe the process along. Help the spirit pass on. Only for a voice to speak behind them, "Now now, whose this?"

Bryan turned and swore as he saw a nurse, however she had a practical aura of other worldly energy around her. Behind him four black slime tentacles formed and pulled the formerly weeping woman to the wall. As the nurse headed towards the ghost formerly on the bed, now bound to the wall began to howl. The ghostbuster fired two boson darts, but the nurse back handed them away sending them into the walls and floor. The ghost then raised her hand raising the ghostbuster into the air. Closing her hand Bryan could feel his air being cut off.

Bryan grabbed a slime grenade, and set it off. The blast and sheer amount of positive energy seemed to stagger the nurse ghost. Landing on his feet, and wincing as his knees popped, the ghostbuster fired four boson darts, making the woman howl. The nurse ghost snarled, "Get them my pretties!"

Suddenly from the holes and cracks in the walls, big fat black rats began to form. red eyes driven by hunger and rage. The Ghostbuster snarled, and couldn't resist smirking evilly as the rats touched the green slime they began to dissolve. Conjured creatures were just another form of ectoplasm after all. Thomas twisted a dial and fired a maximum width proton stream. Evaporating the rats.

It was a delaying action but he primed and tossed a second slime grenade. Forcing the nurse back farther and dissolving more of the rats. Bryan slid a trap under the nurse and triggered it, but the nurse dove forward. Going to gut him. Bryan caught her with a capture stream. Slamming her into the ceiling he fed her into the spiraling trap. Which was sucking in the low level spirits that were the rats as well. Soon the nurse ghost, and the rats were gone. He closed the trap and half collapsed onto his ass. Panting heavily. He looked at B.B., "You finish helping the woman, I'm going to rest for a bit."
 
While the nurse had been attacking the Rookie, B.B. had raised her pistol to join in the fight. But it really seemed to upset the woman who had once been on the bed. She lowered it and tried again, taking one of the ghost traps from her hip. "We need you to wait here while we find your baby." She tripped the trap and a beam of light flared up from the little device. The woman stood reluctantly and stepped toward the trap, being sucked in immediately. Once the light on the trap changed, B.B. picked it up and handed it over.

"I feel terrible for lying. " She admitted. "I really doubt her baby hasn't been absorbed, if it was ever here at all. But it was the best way to get her into the trap."
 
Bryan nodded, "Why didn't you tell her her baby was on the other side or something. It's probably true. Lots of sanitariums sold babies to slavers. It's possible her kid lived a decent life. Or it could have been used as an experiment here. Honestly babies either through their weak souls or whatever tend to be very rare, unless there were hundreds of them killed."

He stepped back out into the hallway, blinking as the floor, walls, and roof seemed to change from solid to sponge like. Black slime bubbling away and oozing down from the ceiling. The "Rookie" tried spraying it with the slime blower attachment, but the black slime seemed to be replaced as it was deluded. Swearing her looked at B.B., "Hold on tight."

The blond and brown haired Ghostbuster grabbed the woman, lifting her up bridal style he ran through the slime, hissing as some of it caught his jump suit. While it would protect him, it was still hot. He swore as a hand seemed to shoot from the wall. It was massive and had three fingers. A smaller humanoid hand grabbing his ankle making him drop to his knees. The hands seemed to be moving up burning hand prints into his jump suit. Bryan heaved and with a mighty toss, threw the woman forward the rest of the way. Soon the hands one from each wall and the hands from the roof and floor had surrounded the ghostbuster hiding him from sight.

Until a soft familiar noise seemed to cut through the sound of burning, "Blink", "Blink", "Phshoosh."

A massive explosion of green slime fills the area. Bryan throwing himself forward covered in the stuff. He pants a bit, before saying, "Suck it, bastards!"

His eyes were wild, and wide. Panting. Slowly the puddles of black slime began to pull other black slime to them as he caught his breath. Looking at B.B. he said, "You ok?"
 
After being tossed, she stood roughly and lifted the proton pistol. She'd managed to protect it in the fall, more at the cost of her elbow. She took aim as the hands closed in, but found it unnecessary when the slime grenade went off.

"I'm fine, but what about you? That negative slime nearly burnt through your suit!" She offered an arm to help him up.
 
Bryan nodded, "I'm glad I invested in the slime weave jumpsuit. It uses positively charged slime to form a synthetic thread and is weaved into the jump suit. Expensive, but it stops possession, and black slime damage. I'll probably need a new one once this little adventure is over, but between my boots and gloves I think I'm."

The Ghostbuster was suddenly yanked hard. Turning he swore as three for lack of a better term "Slime Abominations" formed. Their left or right arm was big and swollen like an overly ripe pumpkin or infected sore. The arm ended in three fingers. The general form was twisted humanoid with straight legs, and a second smaller arm. The heads were lumps with no necks. Bryan swore and tossed two slime grenades saying, "From hell's heart I stab at thee!"

The grenades exploded, and cause the things to howl. He fired four bosons at the one on the left, and a focused and continuous stream of green slime at the second one. Soon two ghosts would become visible. A pair of class two demons, or lesser ghosts, one was an agony spirit, the other a misery spirit. They fed off of well agony and misery respectively. Increasing it in turn. Without the Black Slime to enhance their powers they began to try and fly ((Misery)) and crawl ((Agony)) away. He looked at her, "You get crawly!"

Bryan fired on the flying ghost, it was vaguely human in dimension, but more bulbous in body and arms with sausage like fingers. The Agony creature was the size of a large house cat with ling arms and legs. It was orangish red, with a tuft of hair/fur at the base of it's head nub, and bat wing like ears. However, it's eyes were blood red, and rather then fingers and toes it seemed to have solid claws. It leapt at the medium no doubt planning to claw her face off. Or bite it off, with teeth that looked like triangles. It could have been amusing, if one hadn't seen the serrated razor like edge.
 
B.B. tucked and rolled out of the way. The ghoulish humanoid flopped near her legs and floundered to change its course. Droplets of black slime sprayed across her shoes and pants, burning little holes in them. She winced and resonated the urge to pat down the places where it had landed. The last thing she needed was slime on her exposed hands. She blasted multiple proton bursts into it as it tried to crawl toward her.
 
The creature about the length of a woman's leg from ankle to knee juked once, but the second blast hit it. Causing it to let out a howl. The third caused a capture stream to form, squeezing it tight and lifting it into the air.

Bryan meanwhile had caught his own spirit. A boson dart made it dodge left where he caught it with a second dart, then capture streamed it. The Rookie ghostbuster awkwardly grabbed his trap and tossed it out. Reeling in the beam carefully he slammed the ghost into the trap. He looked at B.B., "Add yours to this trap and I'll send it off. I don't remember if I handed you your trap back before."
 
"I don't think so." She panted, jostling the spirit into the capture stream. It was sucked in as per the norm. The medium bent and examined her leg and shoe. Pulling her pantleg up, she saw that the droplets of slime had left tiny, cigarette-like burns in a splatter pattern on her calf. She resolved to be much more careful next time. "Maybe that slime is a good investment." She thought aloud.
 
Bryan hissed a bit, "Yeah, it is. Each Ghostbuster's Franchise gets 4 packs, 2 traps, 2 goggles, 2 P.K.E. meters, and a bunch of odds and ends. I invested alot of cash into my pack, my car, and my traps. The basic packs can't even do Boson Darts, and you have to manually switch them to capture streams."

He lowered her own spirit into the trap. Belting it he then handed her and himself a clean trap. Nodding a bit he said, "The normal jump suits aren't bad. But I ran into some poltergeist level ghosts in Chicago one time, ended up with three bullets in me. Hurt like a bitch. I decided I needed to upgrade. Kevlar, mico-chainmail and white slime makes it alot harder to damage the squishy Ghostbuster. Even if I'm breaking the rules right now."

The rookie took a knee, and pulled out a small first aid kid. First using a squirt container of pink slime on the worst of the burns. He spoke casually, "Best to Neutralize it. I'm pretty sure most of this burned itself out, but better safe then sorry." Next a bottle of holy water poured over the wound, then some non-stinging disinfectant, then water from a water bottle. He then put gauze and a thicker bandage, then a leather wrap around it. Nodding he said, "Better?"

He rolled his medi-pack back up into a tight little bundle Less then six inches across, and put it into a pouch on his right knee.
 
"I can understand the slime." She laughed, "but the rest seems kind of excessive. I guess it'll be harder for them to burn me again if it comes to splatter." She shrugged. Looking around, the hall was unusually quiet. No drafts or creaks, just an eerie silence. B.B. sighed. "I think I'm good to go again."

She clipped the new trap to her hip and pulled back the lock to ready her proton pistol. The medium took a small lead, making sure to keep close enough to the ghost buster that neither would be caught apart, but distant enough to not be inthe way.
 
Bryan chuckled a bit, "Thing is, black slime is ecto-plasm, which at the end of the day is sticky. It could have potentially gotten rotted wood, or dirt into the wound. People tend to forget how nasty old decrepit buildings are when it comes to infection. Most of it probably was over kill, but better safe then with some nasty infection."

The Ghostbuster had his thrower on his hands. Moving slowly but staying carefully focused and relaxed. His weapon up and aimed, looking around for any good targets.
 
She nodded with a small hum of agreement. "That's true. I-" She was cut off by a creak. She froze, her muscles tensing like a cat. She listened, but nothing further came to her ears. The heavy silence bore down for a few minutes more before there was a loud explosion!

A practical geyser of black slime burst up from the floor in front of them and formed into a disgustingly muscular man with bulbous eyes. The glasses scanned the beastly spectral figure and deduced that it was an orderly by the name of Hank Johansen. He was a sexual offender and brutalize of women mostly. The beefy arm raised and shot out at B.B., who threw herself against the opposite wall to avoid his grasp.
 
Bryan raised his thrower, and began to rain down Boson Darts at the bastard. He was glad B.B. had thrown herself back to avoid his grasp it also threw her out of range of splash damage. However of the three snap shots, only one actually hits the bastard. As he sights in and fires again the muscular spirit blocks the blast with a surgical gurney. Between the grenade like blast, and the rotted and decayed state the think explodes. Sharp shrapnel grabbed by the Ghost's telekinesis and fired at him. Slower then a bullet luckily, but the impact force is still enough to drive it into the thick walls. Bryan had just rolled aside. Bringing up his thrower, he rapid fired 5 Shock Blasts the Dark Matter Shotgun esks blasts actually damage the ghost stunning it and making it stumble like a human punched in the head.

He drops a trap, and goes to open it, but the ghost grabs him lifting him up by the throat. It looks pissed. Bryan isn't sure if it's the ghost, or telekinesis, but he forces his head back and fires a boson dart into it's sneering face. He winces a bit as he dropped and lands on the trap's activation pedal. Firing slim lines the ghost is still fighting the traps pull as Bryan tries to get air down his damaged throat.
 
B.B. raised her proton pistol and attempted to fire on the ghost while it had Bryan in its grasp, but the damn thing wouldn't respond! Frantically, she ckicked the trigger a few more times before frustration drove her to bang it against the rail of a bed left on its side in the hall. She knew that was no way to treat sensitive and epensive equipment, but the percussive adjustment seemed to work, lighting the little LEDs along the side. By then, the ghost was lingering on the edge of the trap, and she aimed and knocked him off-balance enough to spin him in.

She rose to her full height and sprinted through the debris to see if the Ghostbuster was alright. "Can you breathe?" She panted, holding out a hand for him to take.
 
Bryan held up a finger, coughing, but nodding, wincing. Between the way the ghost had exploded into action, and the debris in the air from the destroyed gurney, plus the whole choking thing it was HARD to catch his breath. Finally he hit the release of the H frame and let his pack fall off. Rolling over onto his knees. He realized he still couldn't take deep breathes, but it didn't feel like a lungs issue. Grabbing the zipper to his jump suit he half tore the thing down only to be able to take a deep mouth full of air. Coughing heavily as he waved a hand infront of his face.

The Ghostbuster rolled over onto his back again as he groaned, "Fucking hell. Have I mentioned I hate class 3's? Or was it 4? Probably a 4, Class 4's know what they are, and tend to be bitches. They also tend to have more conscious powers and or control. Then again it was also a Focused, Full Torso, those almost never go easy."

The rookie coughed again, before looking down and wincing, the middle of the chest of his jump suit was bent inwards. He must not have quite managed to dodge all of the crap from the gurney. Wincing a bit as he pushed on the curved plate he said, "And this ladies and gentleman is why reinforced jump suits are your friend."

He slowly forced the plate back straight, but made a note he'd need a new jump suit after this. Then again given the sheer number of ghosts caught so far he could probably afford it. He tended to charge between 500 dollars and 1000 dollars for a class 1, and they had yet to run into anything under a class 3. He coughed again, shaking his head. If he could get enough air he'd complain about ratty buildings. Looking at the Medium he said, "I think I'm about done for the night, what about you? This is obviously a multiple day bust. Who knows how much deeper we need to go to get every spirit in this place. According to my watch it's 4 A.M.. If the ghosts are more active at night, we only have a few more hours anyway. I think I'm going to break out the heavier gear tomorrow night. If you want to press on we can, but I've got a hot date with a cheap motel on the main land."

The Ghostbuster zipped his jump suit back up and pulled on his pack, wincing a bit, he needed a message after landing on his ass with the heavy pack on. He was pretty sure he'd pulled something. He did redo the strap though. He spoke lightly, "I am glad the owners sprung for a Ghostbuster though. Maybe we can work out some sort of partnership deal? You do good work, but some places, well they are like this. I don't want to imagine what would have happened if you were here alone."

Wincing a bit as he saw the damage to the pistol he said, "My guess is he managed to touch the cord. Ghosts have a detrimental effect, with contact and the pistol isn't build for heavy damage. Atleast I can charge the bastards 30 grand or so. I tend to charge based on the class, as well as how many. For every 2 over class two I double the fee. We've caught what 10 ghosts? How much do you charge for a night's work?"

The Ghostbuster honestly wondered. He knew Mediums tended to be much cheaper. Since they tended to just be themselves. You didn't have to work about charging equipment, storage, plus they tended to deal with smaller scale haunting. He'd probably made his year on this bust, assuming he didn't run into too many more major costs. He liked under charging Mom and Pop places, community places, but mega corporations he'd bleed dry. As the great Peter Venkman once said, "No job is too big, no fee is too big."
 
The medium studied him as he unzipped his suit, passing her eyes over the rips and tears therein. He was starting to do that thing where he'd ruffle her feathers again, which he seemed to do without even knowing it. That's what drove her the most crazy; she couldn't figure out if he actually respected her or not. Something told her that he just didn't think she was up to this job, which she wasn't quite. But she wasn't willing to feel inferior.

"I'm game for stopping. I'm sure we're both rooming in the same fleabag motel. Courtesy of the company, of course. I tend to charge by the hour rather than by the ghost, since most of what I do is talking ghosts into leaving. So it's usually $700 an hour." She shrugged. "I don't have much in the way of equipment. Just me, some crystals, my rods and some herbs." She turned and started to head back down the stairs toward the main hall. "I think I'll class a couple of drinks under 'business expense'."
 
Bryan nodded a bit as he said, "The night we've had I think I'll join you if you don't mind. I need a shower first though, ideally until the hot water runs out."

Bryan was silent until they got to his car. He knew the woman had probably taken a cab out to the hospital. He looked at her, "Want a ride?"

Realizing he might have offended the woman somehow through her body language he said, "Sorry if I offended you somehow. It's just weird working with someone else in the field. You know how it is. Normally I have to explain to some 30 something who isn't even sure they believe in the afterlife much less ghosts. What I do is dangerous, and yet rather then thanks I'm used to judgement or worse people trying to blame me. One time, a customer was CONVINCED it wasn't a ghost that made all their furniture get stuck to the ceiling, they were sure it was mold. MOLD. And do you know how they reacted when the ghost was caught and all their furniture fell and broke. They tried to sue me."

Bryan shook his head, "So, I sometimes during the bust keep forgetting you have studied parapsychology. I'm used to having to deal with those who wouldn't know a class 1 from a class 5. Also, to be fair, most of the Mediums I've dealt with before are either "Home grown" as in a family member had the gift and passed it on. Teaching the kid the ways. Which means we might use different terms. Or, and this is my favorite, someone whose good at cold reading and micro expressions. You have no idea how amusing it is to see a charlatan flip out when they see a class 3 or 4 or 5."

Bryan moved to the trunk and took out his I-pad, tying up, "1 New Slime Weave jumpsuit, 1 new Proton Pistol, Storage fee for let's see Joseph was a Class 4, minor ghost with his chain was a Class 3, four more class 3's and Camilla is Class 4, Hackhett was a 4, let's call is a dozen class 1's for the slime golem, bulk discount of 50 bucks a class 1. That comes to 12000$, with a half fee of 6000, add in the class 3's and you've got five which is 2500$, with a storage cost is 1500$, 18000$, and 4000$ is 22000$."

The Rookie began to empty the traps as he did so, making sure the math was right. He spoke to himself, "Jumpsuit will cost me 15 hundred, and the new pistol 25 hundred. So adding that makes 40,000, so that brings the total bill to 260,000$."

The Ghostbuster then sighed a bit, "I'll do the rest of the math when we get to the hotel. It's late, and I'm tired. But I have a strict policy, well two. One, no full ghost traps are left in the car when I'm not around. It never ends well. Second, no trap is emptied until I've put the ghost on the bill. With multiple ghosts in a trap it become too easy to forget. Plus my portable Containment unit can only hold 150 ghosts at a time. I might have to take a trip and empty it. Our clients said there would only be 1 or 2 ghosts. I had room for fifty before this little bust started."
 
"It's alright." B.B. sighed before he started doing the math. "I knew I had something when I was younger, and decided it would be best to go secondary education to learn more about it. My parents were furious, insisting that I had been making it up the whole time." She huffed, cynically. "My first TV appearance changed their tune real quick. Sure, I could show them EVPs, video footage and everything else, but it wasn't until some local news anchor wanted to talk to me that they even took me seriously!"

After being invited, she opened the car door and slipped in, as this seemed much more reliable than callinganother cab. "Those are both good policies to have. But how on Earth did you manage to get a portable containment Unit? The Stanz Equipment Guide suggested it had to be as big as it was tocontain all the machinations to keep ghosts vaporous." Shethought about it a moment longer. "Though I suppose we've come a long way since the Firehouse was established."
 
Bryan nodded a bit, "I wonder personally if the various massive scale psychic events aren't going to lead to an increase in humans with abilities. I mean, there was the Gozer incident, the Vigo incident, the Cult of Gozer incident, and a few above and beyond. THe Ghostbusters all read as "no third eye" when they started. But being repeatedly around such events has given them all some minor skill. Nothing compared to a natural, or prodigy in the art. But it shows a worrying quantifiable effect. Add in it all keep happening in and around New York."

The Rookie nodded a bit, "The Portable Containment unit has been around since the 90's. You've got to remember Stantz first made the equipment in the 80's, back then I think they had those bulb things rather then microchips. Doctor Spangler made the first wireless device. Add in break through in technology, and a literal genius in technological work and you have all sorts of crazy tech. The Dark Matter generator I use on my pack, for the shock and "Freeze" streams, uses literal Dark Matter absorbed from the area around me. I've been doing this over a decade, and I'm still not sure exactly how that works."

Bryan nodded a bit, "Occasionally my car gets jacked, kids looking to joy ride. One time in Jersey I had to track down a level 5 Moose. It really sucked. It's always risky traveling with the gear. It makes me a bit envious of you. You have no idea the looks TSA gives you when you try to take a nuclear accelerator on a plane carry on."
 
B.B. couldn't help but laugh. "They freak out about toothpaste these days, I can only imagine." She made herself comfortable in the passangers seat. "I once had to convince them that human remains that I was carrying were just my pet dog. Somehow that makes it better. And yet they still made me check it! I had to return them to their rightful place; practically a sacred mission, and the ashes had to ride with my socks and underwear." She sighed and shook her head. A thin, scheming smile spread across her cheeks. "So, have you actually met the Real Ghostbusters? What're they like?"

The resentment she felt toward the Rookie was slowly ebbing away as they drove on. His apology had worked, mostly. And she could understand how it might come off as though she knew less than he did. His gear was certainly out of her league.
 
Bryan shrugged, "They are sort of cool, but well, also annoyingly average. I grew up with the animated series based on some of their busts. But different. You know, how they made cash for awhile. So it was a bit weird to find out Venkman would hoist off any duty he could onto me, Spangler is about as social as the mosses he keeps, Ray is nice but he's a bit of a speaker. I once timed him and he went on for 10 minutes straight about cheese and the right way to melt it in the microwave. Zeddmore is the common man Ghostbuster and sort of the coolest. He used to be a marine."

The rookie smiled a bit, "None of the guys are bad. But getting constantly thrown under the bus my Peter is a bit annoying. For example, if it's his turn to do dishes, basic fire house cleaning, etc. You can expect him to try and get you to do it. Half the time he managed to talk me into it. Turns out his father was a conman. I talked him into teaching me some of his best tricks, but I promised only to use them for good, and by that I of course meant myself. He's a good man at heart, but watch yourself, I know for a fact he's a bit of a letch."

Rookie chuckled, "Spangler is a good man, but he's almost hyper anti-social. I don't dislike him, but he's a bit off. Much more comfortable in the lab. He sort of took the bench when I joined them team unless give busters were needed. His humor is a bit of an awkward taste, but you can tell he's got some serious wit. He's also a bit rude, but it's more lack of social skills then and direct trying to be rude. His first words to me were "Do you happen to have any anti-fungal cream?" not "Hello" or "Nice to see you". I've learned about my gear over time to keep it running, but if he gets into science talk he can get over my head pretty quickly."

The blondish brown haired man spoke next, "Ray is, well imagine a puppy that's on a sugar and caffeine high. Crossed with that kid who would stick his finger in an electric socket to see what would happen. Very much the heart of the Ghostbusters. Of course his passion is the occult. He had some psychics in his family tree. He's more the happy to talk at and to someone until they feel comfortable with him. It can be a bit draining honestly. He's that way about anything that gets his attention. A good man, but it requires alot of energy."

He looked at her for a second, since the road was abandoned, "Honestly, that's the truth. I love the guys like close cousins. But, dealing with "The main 3" is draining. It's almost weird how well they fit together. Peter and Ray talk so Egon doesn't have to, but at the same time know WHEN to let him talk. Peter will ask him questions. Peter's comments and Ray's observations tie together. Egon and Peter serve as a sort of leash for Ray keeping him from wandering off. And the other two keep Peter from going too far. Still physically draining but not as bad."

He chuckled a bit, "Then you have Winston, whose sort of the ground. He's common sense, but also the most regular Ghostbuster. I've seen him ground all three of them. Keep Peter on a leash, get Egon and Ray focused. He's I'd almost say the Nanny, but that isn't really fair. He's the one who makes sure Egon doesn't blow everyone up by accident, and who makes sure they have coffee filters. He's the one who I like to go out and get a beer with. Honestly, the other three, they're good people, but Winston is the easiest one to interact with. He's kind, but has no problems calling you out if you screw up. I feel like without him around the other three would have blown up New York or something."

Bryan shook his head a bit, "Part of the reason I'm a traveling Ghostbuster is because of our mixed relationship. I'm still The Rookie after all. While I don't want you to think badly of the guys, it's a bit insulting. I've been at this over twenty years, but they've been at this over thirty five years. I'm not smarter then Spengler, or Stantz, and Venkman is more charismatic. Winston is a better ground. So I sorted ended up being Superfluous. The fifth wheel. Very much the spare. I dreamed of busting ghosts since I made my proton pack out of a shoe box and a robe tie. I get to live the dream, but at the same time I'm not with my heroes. They didn't and still don't need me. Big shadows and shoes to fill. Sure I help out during emergencies but no one remembers me. We both know you were expecting "One of the Four", heh, didn't even know my name until I introduced myself huh?"

He gave a sort of chuckle with a bit of self loathing as he said, "But we're all dealt cards. Maybe I'll never be the one people think of when they think of the word Ghostbuster, but I'm in great company. Plus I help people, and that's always good."
 
B.B. looked at him thoughtfully, soaking in all that he'd said. She wondered how many people had asked him about the others and not bothered to get his portion of the story. "You're not superfluous. You're...in reserve. Up-and-coming. You've been doing this like, fifteen years less than them, but when they can't do it anymore, who's going to carry it on? And even teach new Busters how all this stuff works? I mean, I know I've learned a lot today, and I've been a working medium for close to 10 years. But I didn't have a springboard. It took forever to get established." She sighed. "I wish I had other people to work with that I could trust. I once tried to work with an assistant, but she was no help at all. She made me do everything! And not in the cute "Venkmon: can back it up when the chips are down" kind of way. I mean,she was such dead weight, you probably could've mistaken her for another ghost."

The pair rode in silence for a minute or two before B.B. slowly collapsed into giggles. "I'm sorry, but the thought of a little Bryan the Rookie Welsh running around with a shoe box tied to his back is just too adorable!"
 
Bryan chuckled, "I mostly figure Venkman is an ass. Although the rookie thing is useful when I accidentally" he coughed and said "Or on purpose" then gave another fake cough before continuing, "blow up important things. Like Vegas. Vegas was not fun."

The Rookie shrugged a bit, "Honestly, most Ghostbusting work is either very seasonal, or very specific. Remember for a few years all the Ghostbusters did was kid parties. Most of the Ghostbusters live off of rights, branding, or have jobs. Egon is a college professor in Paranormal Studies, Ray owns a book store. Peter hosts a talk show with fake psychics and mediums and such, "World of the Psychic", and is willing to show up to almost anything. Winston is the only "Full Time" Buster, well besides me, and he mostly lives off of trade mark stuff. The movies are still fairly popular and toys and such are made."

The youngest ghostbuster took a drink from his water bottle before saying, "Egon is starting up another team. A few of the kids in his college classes who are willing to work for below minimum wage since it's an intern program. I also tend to cheat a bit. See, states aren't exactly fond of someone driving around with nuclear accelerators. So they tend to put up laws about me hiring. However, temp places and "Day Laborers" don't really care. I pick em up, pay em a hundred dollars a day, and drop them off. You're right about good back up. I could use some. I'm half tempted to try and recruit you."

Bryan chuckled a bit, "Did you ever dress up as your heroes or what you wanted to be when you grew up? Power Ranger or Ghostbuster were my two options."
 
As the hotel became visible in the distance, B.B. grinned like a cat that had swallowed a canary. "I was always the villain." She snickered. "Whenever we'd play Power Rangers, I was Rita Repulsa. Whenever we'd play Sailor Moon, I was queen Beryl. It didn't seem to matter if we made it up, if I didn't have to be on the good guys team, I was the antagonist."

When he parked, she got out and followed him in. All of her things had been taken in already, before she'd taken the cab out to the site. She couldn't wait for the cool relief of that first drink, but instead of rushing to her room, she lingered by the door. "Can I help you carry anything?" She asked.
 
Bryan shook his head, "I tend to leave my equipment outside. Part of the deal with certain cities and the way the packs work. Low scale radiation poisoning is a concern. It's worse it it's on. Luckily it's fairly rare. But it's always a bit of a risk when the pack is charging. Plus given the black slime residue it's best to put my suit somewhere safe. You would not believe how often "Psycokinetic splash" damage has caused a uniform to come to life, or worse make a spectral Buster."

Bryan moved behind the car, and opened a door. When you lived on the road you learned alot of cool tricks. Soon the Ghostbuster was stepping out from behind the car, and he looked well tall first of all. Without the 1000 pounds of the pack forcing him to slouch a bit, he seemed taller. Also better built. While he couldn't win any strong man contests the blue jeans he was wearing along with the jean jacket showed off he had a decent form. His shirt was black with the "No Ghost" logo big and on the chest. But it would be easy to miss the blond in a crowd. The worst of the smell was also gone. The smell of damp mold, slime, smokey ozone, and a half dozen other unpleasant scents. While the scent of ozone did linger some, it was barely noticeable. The Ghostbuster made sure all the traps were empty, and except for his military grade looking I-Pad, and a ruck pack tossed over his shoulder everything was locked down. He smiled at her, saying, "Let's go."
 
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