captainryan: (Puppet Wolf)
Took it twice, and got the same thing both times.

Ryan says the loud jokester part is completely wrong, but everything else he (grudgingly) admits fits.

Your Score: Jokester Soul

You scored -3 Extroversion, -19 Sensitivity, and -9 Openness!




You are a confident person with a strong sense of self. You can be loud and jocular, and you don't really care who hears you. You don't spend too much time stressing about how other people see you. If they like you, well, good for them. If they don't like you, well, that's their own problem.

People need to earn your respect in order for you to really start taking them into consideration. You might bend yourself over backwards for a friend or family member, but you aren't going to give that sort of special treatment to any old Joe Blow. Your loved ones know that under that bold, brash exterior, there is a person who is loyal and even clannish at times. You will fight to defend your friends and family from any and all comers. With these special few, you drop that joking exterior and be your real self.

Your daemon's form would represent your confident ways, your joking and insensitive manner, and your secret tendency for softheartedness. He or she would probably help you criticize all the idiots whom you meet on a day to day basis, and back you up when you are on the defensive.

Suggested forms:
Magpie, Raven, Kangaroo, Wild Boar.

Link: The Golden Compass Daemon Test written by wolfcaroling on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test
View My Profile(wolfcaroling)

Prezzies!

Dec. 26th, 2007 01:36 am
captainryan: (Affection)
Ryan knows that the full moon is on Christmas this year, so he plans to leave his presents with Bar ahead of time.

Now he just has to figure out what those presents are.

Suzi is the easier of the two to shop for. He’s been thinking for a while of getting her a book on phrases and, with the help of Bar, quickly finds two books that fit that description, opting for the Braille versions.

Deitmar is a little trickier, but Ryan takes Suzi’s advice about getting him something electronic to heart. When Bar suggests a Wii, he latches onto the hand-eye coordination bit that should improve the fine muscle control that’s been giving Deitmar trouble. That still leaves the question of what game to get him. He’s quite tempted to select this one, but in the end settles on something that should be a bit more soothing, given Deitmar’s new found fascination for destruction.

Done with his shopping for the year, he thanks Bar for her help and instructs her not to hand the wrapped gifts over until Christmas day, along with a simple note:

Merry Christmas
Love You
Richard Ryan
captainryan: (Wolf Full Height)
There are other werewolves. Ryan knows this quite well, but thus far they have stayed out of his territory and in their own. Their own howls answer his when he calls, each letting the other know where they are so that no one runs into each other accidentally.

He is not impressed by this new wolf, the one that has called all night long for no reason, but in the end, it’s not an issue. As long as the newcomer keeps off his territory, there is little to concern himself with. To that end, Ryan answers the other’s howls, making sure he knows he’s not the only one out here.

When the stranger’s howls stop in the early morning, Ryan is set on edge a bit. Such silence after the nearly constant communication is unsettling, and he no longer knows where the other is. He still howls, about once every hour until sleep claims him again.

One night left.

November

Nov. 24th, 2007 08:02 am
captainryan: (Wolf Crouch)
Winter is coming.

Ryan never was all that fond of snow, mostly for practical reasons. You need more kit to survive in snow environments, it’s harder to move through, and it’s harder to hide your passage.

Now, though? Now he just doesn’t like it because it’s cold. They may seem something of a simple reason to not like snow, but how many patrons have to strip naked three nights a month? Sure, he could opt not to, but that would have him ripping through his clothes faster than he cared to. No, better to remove the garments. Besides, then he has something to put back on when he changes back.

He’s warmer when he’s in his other form. He doesn’t know why, probably because of the thicker hide, but he is warmer. It is that knowledge that encourages him to attempt to change early, rather than hold the change off. He’s been trying the latter for months, to no effect. Once the moon rises, no matter how much he focuses (a feat in itself considering his mindset at the time) the change sweeps his human form away.

But changing early, well, that’s another story entirely. He’s done it once before, when he and Le Chiffre were working out their differences. Only a few seconds before moonrise, but he had been so eager to begin the hunt that changing early had seemed easy. Tonight, he does so again, and once more a few seconds before moonrise, he changes. The difference between frail cold human and warm durable werewolf is large, and one he relishes when the air is cold enough that his breath hangs in it like a cloud. He howls a challenge to the stone angel, a warning to the other lycanthropes that he is here, and just for the sheer joy of it.

He is awake when the dawn comes, and deeper in the woods than usual. He promised Suzi he would try to avoid the angel and the deep woods seem to be the best place for that. The Dreaming seems to be gone completely, something he finds odd but has no complaint about.

He doesn’t return to his human shape. Not immediately, anyway. Instead he holds onto his other form for a good long while, occasionally sending up warning howls. Eventually the lethargy after a successful hunt and meal takes him, and he sleeps in the shelter he built months before. He wakes shortly afterwards, human and shivering and curled against the cold on the blankets Suzi gave him. He wraps himself more securely in the cloth, putting a few of the blankets over him instead of just under to better keep in his heat, before dozing off again.

Full Moon

Nov. 15th, 2007 03:47 pm
captainryan: (Silhouette)
Ryan’s left to sit in the back as they drive out of the city the next day. Ray and Egon try to keep a conversation going, but Ryan’s having trouble hearing the words as words and not just sound. It doesn’t help that he keeps watching the back of their head intently, tracking every movement.

They’re rather relieved when they’re far enough from civilization to let him out. He slips from the car, testing the air. Grass, earth, tree, exhaust from the car behind him, deer – ooo, deer. One of the car doors slams and he turns to see Ray coming towards him.

“Here we are,” he says, sounding cheerful. For the first time since coming here, Ryan meets and holds the man’s eyes, teeth slightly bared in an answer to the man’s smile. “Um. You going to be okay out here?” Ryan merely tilts his head, studying the human. Survival instincts of an eggplant or not, Ray, even cartoon Ray, can realize that probably isn’t a good thing.

And even if he doesn’t, Egon does. “Ray, I think you should get back in the car.”

“Right. Well, we’ll see you in three days, okay, Captain?”

It’s the use of his rank that elicits a response. “Yes.”

Ray’s already retreating to the car, and Ryan tracks the movement impassively. “Is he going to be alright, you think?”

“He’s a special forces trained werewolf, Ray. I think he’ll be fine,” Egon answers dryly as they drive away.

***

Any thoughts that a cartoon transformation might be less painful are gone the moment the moon rises. The colours of the world are gone, replaced by black and white, which in this flat 2-D world makes it much easier to see movement. He’s wary at first about hunting in this strange place, but he scents no other predators and that’s enough for him to give into his hunger.

The second night passes much the same, but as morning is approaching on the third day, the black werewolf encounters a problem. He adjusts more quickly to not being physical as a wolf than he does as a human, but it’s just as unnerving.

It’s sort of fun to terrify the deer, though.

By the time he makes it back to where the Ghostbusters dropped him off, the sun is up a ways and Ray is waiting. Ryan’s about as talkative as when they left him, but at least it seems he understands what Ray’s saying. A bit. He doesn’t always look at Ray like he’s food, at any rate.

It’s with some trial and error that they get him to stay in the car when it starts moving. Once Ryan learns that as long as he pays attention to the seat he doesn’t pass through, he’s good and they start heading back to Ghostbusters HQ. It’s an uneventful trip, except for that husky they passed in the truck that had Ryan and the dog slinging insults at each other in canine. Ryan very nearly passed completely through the car before he caught himself.

Ray kept an eye out for dogs after that.

Week 2b

Nov. 14th, 2007 04:24 pm
captainryan: (Go Away)
He’s still reeling. His soul, HIS soul, was nearly sentenced to 500 years of doing evil’s bidding. And what it came down to, in the end, was a game. His soul for a game. If Spengler hadn’t stopped them when he did…

Dammit, he isn’t even FROM this world! How dare that spirit even attempt to lay claim to his soul! He could understand if he’d made some sort of deal, but he hadn’t. If Good had lost that game, he would’ve lost his soul with absolutely no say in the matter. Who the fuck made them gods?!

500 years. He’d been one switch flick away from 500 years. 500 years of evil’s bidding.

500 years from Deitmar and Suzi.

Winston knew all along, he realizes. And not only knew, he volunteered to save his soul. It was no skin off Winston’s nose, he knew, but he gained nothing by playing either.

Nothing, that is, except Ryan’s respect.

Day 1c

Nov. 11th, 2007 04:42 pm
captainryan: (Toon!Ryan)
Stantz has shown him the entire firehouse now, and not a single door led to Milliways. Ryan's going to be most annoyed if that becomes a reoccurring trend, but for the moment, even deceased SAS cartoon werewolves have to use the men's room.

It's the flash of purple that draws his attention to the mirror.


. . .

. . .

. . .
it's not a bad likeness, he decides eventually, except for his hair. His hair is purple. PURPLE. Dumbfounded for the second time in one day, he reaches up a hand to touch it. It looks like it's one solid mass, but to his relief, his fingers slip through it easily. It's just...purple. As for the rest of it, he runs his hands over his features, feeling out all the small differences and watching the stranger in the mirror do the same. He bares his teeth at the image, tilts his head, raises his eyebrows, smiles, scowls...it's really easy to scowl at it.

This is the most unnerving thing he's ever seen, and there's absolutely no denying he's in a cartoon. As if being transported across time and space wasn't enough, he's also an animated figure with PURPLE hair. It explains why everything is so flat, at least. It's screwing with his perception of distance, and he keeps bumping into things.

There's going to be a dead, dead stone angel when he gets back to the bar.

Final Day

Nov. 4th, 2007 05:57 am
captainryan: (Toon!Ryan)
He's insubstantial by the time they come to pick him up. He always is and apparently there's no way to stretch out that 3-day limit on being solid. It puts him in a grumpy mood that he can't grab anything unless he concentrates, though there's little to be done for it.

The Ghostbusters are running late, probably some early morning spectre making trouble. Eventually, the white vehicle pulls up the country lane faster than usual, even with Winston at the wheel. Ryan passes through the door on the passenger side before settling on the seat.

"Morning," he says distractedly, already concentrating on staying solid enough to not slip through the leather.
captainryan: (Damocles)
He has a puppy. Why.

Could he give it to Suzi? No, that wouldn't be fair to Whistler, and anyway he doesn't want to hurt Deitmar more than he already has. Did he hurt Deitmar's feelings? Is that what happened? He must've done something wrong to make the pup run off the way he did, but for the life of him, he can't figure out what. Unless...he was misinterpreting the canine? Ryan'll have to explain the next time they speak.

If Damocles ever stops asking questions.

Why does this room smell like Suzi?

That's Joy's scent, Suzi's dog.

Why was she here?

Because I was watching her.

Why's that?

Suzi was on a trip.

Where'd she go?


He's been putting up with this ALL EVENING. He's rather proud of himself for not snapping at the dog. To Quinn's world.

Who's Quinn?

An Ancient.

What's that?

Someone who was born thousands of years before Suzi was.

Oh.


There's always a pause after 'oh' while the puppy think of another question. This time Ryan cuts him off before he gets there.

Are you hungry?

Yeah! Is there food? Can I have food? Do you have food?


Ryan does indeed, left over from when he had Joy. He gets the bag out while Damocles dances around his feet. It's only through similar experiences with Joy that he manages not to kick the thing.

If he's going to kick it, he wants it to be on purpose.

He pours a bowl of kibble for the puppy and relishes the sudden conversational silence as Damocles chows down. Ryan sets down a bowl of water for him, along with newspapers, before getting ready for bed.

Sir? What are those?

Good god, is the pup done eating already? What are what? Ryan half grumbles, heading to the bathroom, avoiding the paper just inside the door.

Those dark marks on your skin, Damocles continues, unfazed. Ryan's been half grumbling at him all night.

They're scars, places where the skins healed after a bad injury.

What's an injury?

When something hurts you,
Ryan tells him, brushing his teeth. The nice thing about canine is you don't always need your mouth to speak it.

The sudden silence makes him stick his head out the door. What's wrong?

That...that
thing was going to hurt us, Damocles whimpers quietly, hunching in on himself slightly.

The zombie, yes, Ryan agrees before spitting and rinsing. When he comes out of the bathroom, it's to find Damocles huddling under the desk. You're all right now, Ryan says, exasperated. Deitmar found you and brought you here. The zombies can't get you here.

But...but there was that one downstairs!
Damocles protests, shivering violently.

The one downstair--oh, Kaplan. And I told you I'd kill him before he tried anything.

The puppy looks at him with hopeful eyes. You'll protect me?

Ryan just looks at him a long moment. Yes, he half sighs in a gruff voice. Anything to make him stop huddling under the desk. Damocles yips happily and works his way back out.

Thank you, sir! Ryan just rolls his eyes, sparing the puppy a pat before he gets into bed. Damocles watches him with large brown eyes for a moment. Can I sleep with you?

...No.


Puppy. Why.
captainryan: (Toon!Ryan)
"Thank you so much for coming," says the dottery old caretaker as she escorts them inside. She must be in her seventies at least, though Ryan's going more on scent than sight. It's hard to tell ages when the faces are animated. "You don't know how much I appreciate it."

"Are you kidding?" Ray gushes. "For the chance to visit the original Walt Fleishman Studios, I'd do just about anything!" Ryan refrains from asking for examples. He really doesn't want to know.

"Yeah, same here. I grew up on his cartoons; they were fantastic!" Winston's grinning as broadly as Ray is, and Ryan wonders again why he hasn't heard of Fleishman if he's as famous as they're making him out to be. He eyes the lithographs on the walls as the caretaker goes on about the cartoonist's genius and his disappearance, half trying to recognize the characters in them, half trying to figure out what makes them cartoons in an animated world.

"The sounds were reported coming from here," the lady informs them as she lets them into Fleishman's private studio. "Terrible sounds, moaning, groaning, shouting, chains rattling--"

"Could be MTV," Venkman cuts in.

"Or a long latent paranormal surge. Might even have something to do with Walt Fleishman's disappearance," Egon says thoughtfully as he scans the room. "Strange, though, that I'm not getting anything on the PKE meter."

"Well, then, I'll leave it to you. If you find anything, do let me know." With that, the caretaker's gone, leaving them to their own devices.

Once she's gone, Ryan takes a good whiff of the air. "I don't smell any ozone either."
captainryan: (Not Feeling Too Good)
After his chat with Security, Ryan asked Bar for a copy of all the Intel Suzi's gathered on the disappearances and he spends the evening poring over the material.

Richard? The werewolf jumps slightly even as he realizes it's only Joy and not Suzi. Richard, I'm hungry. He gives the puppy an unreadable expression before rising from his chair and disappearing out the door. When he returns, he has a large bag full of food both for himself and her. Joy dances around him, and he has to watch where he puts his feet lest he kick her.

"Stop that," he admonishes her, but if he means it, he doesn't have the will to make it sound so. He shifts the papers on the desk to make room for the food and grabs a bowl out of the top of the bag. He fills it with tap water and sets it down for her, saying, "Don't make a mess."

Okay, Joy agrees, lapping at the water. Ryan watches her a moment before his stomach rumbles. He hadn't realized that his last meal was that morning until Joy said something. He sets her food bowl down.

Richard? Where's Mommy and Deitmar? Joy asks when she's finished, long before Ryan's done.

I don't know. He answers without meaning to. Nonverbal communication is always easier, and the words are out before he realizes he's said them.

When are they coming back?

I don't know.

Are they oka--

I don't know, Joy, I don't know,
he snaps at her, glaring. She looks away, ears down, and rolls onto her back. Satisfied, Ryan returns to eating.

...I miss Mommy, Joy says after a moment. Ryan says nothing at first.

Me, too. Both of them. There's a pressure against his calf and Ryan looks down to find Joy leaning against him. I lost them.

They'll come back. Mommy always comes home.

I wish I could believe that. The words are out before he can stop them. It's his greatest fear that they won't, and by saying it out loud...

Joy may be all that's left.

He looks down at the pup leaning against his leg. He looks down and he pets her. She's all thats left.

What is he going to tell Whistler?

Week 2

Oct. 17th, 2007 05:27 pm
captainryan: (Toon!Ryan)
Another week’s gone by and Ryan’s still trapped in the animated Stantz’s world. It’s frustrating knowing he can’t open the Door to Milliways himself, that he has to rely on the other man to get back. Not that he’s unreliable, he just tends to get distracted. Ryan would ask him to try the doors more often, but he’s seen the man come home covered in slime. He deserves some downtime.

Which he had yesterday. When Winston was teaching him how to shoot, the other guys had the day to themselves. Stantz can open a few doors for him today and one of those will lead to Milliways. He hopes. Ryan steps into the main room just in time to here something about baseball. An American sport, he thinks, dismissing it and heading towards Ray.

Week 1c

Oct. 17th, 2007 02:55 pm
captainryan: (Toon!Ryan)
Ryan, unsurprisingly, is quiet on the trip back to the firehouse. It’s no wonder Stantz gets asked if he’s a god. Ryan knows the man is one of the nicest human beings around, but he still can’t help but be leery of anyone with that much power. And he doesn’t know the other three men at all. Did they really just destroy a god? Or at least something as powerful as a god? That’s the sort of power these men have, and use, on a regular basis. It’s a sobering thought.

And now he’s being taught how to wield it, too.

Under Zeddmore's - no, he asked to be called Winston - instruction, he learns quickly and the objects at Floyd Bennett Field are soon scorched with more proton fire. The weapon isn’t the most accurate, but that’s to be expected. By the end of the first session, he’s good enough not to miss his target. With the streams way of engulfing whatever they strike, that’s enough to start joining the Ghostbusters on calls.

Week 1b

Oct. 14th, 2007 01:35 am
captainryan: (You're Taking the Piss)
It began with the earthquake. In the middle of the night when everyone but Egon had gone to sleep, the ground shook fiercely enough to knock them all out of their beds and shatter the glass in the windows.

Ryan hadn't thought New York was prone to earthquakes.

Regardless, he helped the Ghostbusters in cleaning the mess the quake had left behind, quietly listening to the bickering and laughing that went on around him.

"It was not a normal earthquake," Spenglar insisted before explaining what his machines had recorded. Something to do with a massive amount of psychic energy. When the police arrived to ask for help, Ryan slipped into another room to avoid being seen. The less attention he drew to himself, the better. A minute later, and the 'busters had a new case. Ryan just kept cleaning. It's not as if he had anything else to do, and it let him repay the men for taking him in during the past week.

The team's out for the rest of the day, searching for Marduk, apparently  the god responsible for the earthquake. They rush back in, siren blaring, in the early afternoon. Ryan heads to the garage to greet them and ask Stantz if he has time to look for the Door today. The moment he gets there, though, that doesn't look like a possibility. The men are rushing around, gathering equipment and supplies as they explain to Ryan what's happened and what they need to do next, Ryan included.

"You want me to do what?"

Many Months

Oct. 8th, 2007 11:30 pm
captainryan: (Toon!Ryan)
(It’s hurting again, now)
Ryan’s trying not to get attached to these people, but after months of no Door, he’s having a hard time of it. Egon, despite his tendency to make Ryan’s eyes glaze over twice as much as Ray does, more than makes up for it with his technical expertise and sheer amounts of logic. Not to mention that it’s his machine keeping Ryan solid.
(And I don’t need friends when I have foes like you)
Ray’s exuberance is still trying at times, but he tries hard to make Ryan feel welcome, which the werewolf does appreciate, even if he doesn’t let on. He’s also the one most eager to answer Ryan’s questions about the city, what they do, and, well, anything, really.
(It’s hurting again, now)

Venkman is just as annoying as ever, having given Ryan a nickname, much to his annoyance. Between pranks and slacking, Ryan feels like he’s dealing with a child more often than not, and as much as the man grates on his nerves, he’s soon dealing with it as everyone else does: eye-rolling.
(It’s killing me to be here all alone)

But if Venkman is child, then Slimer is the exuberant puppy that just won’t listen. Ryan finds himself growling at the ghost more often than is healthy, not that it does any good since he seems to have the memory of a goldfish.
(Go away)
It’s Winston he gets along with best, since they seem the most alike. He knows when he can no longer take the other’s company and loudness, he can still find Winston and easily read in comfortable silence (and he’s finding the books on magic quite interesting). He even offered to jog with the younger man, and though it meant he had to slow down, he found he didn’t mind. If anything, it was rather nice to have someone to run with.
(It’s all the same)
And in the centre of it all is Janine, who deals with all of them with nearly never ending patience. Ryan often gets the feeling that nothing fazes her, at least not for long, and that her display of boredom at the desk is anything but a show. Not bad for a civilian.
(There’s more for me)
So while he’s tried not to get attached, only an idiot would fail to notice that he had. And that worried him because what happened when the Door opened? And what if it didn’t? Was this his consolation prize for losing Deitmar and Suzi? Trapped in this world where he faded every three days because it was Milliways subtle way of telling him it was time to move on? Or is this just an easing of transition until he realized it was time to fade forever?
(As the world falls away)

He doesn’t want to go.
(And I can’t find a reason)

Besides that, he promised his pack he wasn’t leaving any time soon. He fully intends to keep that promise, even when weeks stretch into months. It’s hard, though, when at quiet moments after very long days he starts to wonder if maybe fading is a good idea after all, to let go completely, because except for Suzi and Deitmar, there really isn’t anything for him at Milliways…
(As the world turns to grey)

But really, Suzi and Deitmar are all he needs. As much as he’s grown attached to the Ghostbusters, concerned with their well being, he doesn’t love them. He loves Suzi. He loves Deitmar. And he misses them both terribly.
(It’s killing me unwillingly and I am just the same as you)
He wants to go home. He's just not certain that he can.

Some Months

Oct. 8th, 2007 11:12 pm
captainryan: (Toon!Ryan)
(Take the path of least resistance)
He’s never had to pretend to be human before. It’s one thing to remember human behaviour, but entirely another to remember to implement it. It’s oddly challenging to not stare at each stranger’s eyes, to not guard his plate of food, and, perhaps hardest of all, not growl when he’s annoyed. The odd looks he receives are enough to remind him, but every time the moon approaches, he grows tense and agitated with remembering to pretend.
(Into the great unknown)

Needless to say, he’s glad for the three day escape to the countryside.
(No directory assistance)

It doesn't take long before he doesn’t stick out any more than any other human, and quite a bit less than certain examples. It’s the SAS training. If you don’t fit in when you’re on recon, you’re going to get caught, so you learn very quickly how not to draw attention to yourself. Ryan adapts, to the point that even with the moon only a few days away, he can pass a butcher’s shop with salivating. It’s hard, but he can do it. It doesn’t hurt that he’s found a weak minty chewing gum to muffle the scents. Eventually the only tell-tale sign that there’s more to him than meets the eye is the faint prowl to his step, and even that would be gone if he knew it were there.
(Now you’re on your own)
In Milliways, he never really saw a point to trying to pass as human. There he was just another odd patron, one of at least three werewolves in a sea of humans, gods, and aliens. Here, there’s nothing but humans. Anything else stands out like, well, a ghost. It makes it easier to slip beneath the radar when he doesn’t bare his teeth at people who bump into him every five minutes.
(But if you’re looking for a new world)

And he notices it’s easier on his housemates as well, so even when he’s away from the public eye, he still keeps up the charade. Oh, he never shows teeth when he smiles, but he stops bristling when others do. He contents himself to blinking when he makes eye contact, not backing down, but not challenging either. He even manages to cease growling when busting ghosts.
(Just open up your eyes)

Mostly. Sometimes the slime is just too much.
(Because it’s not quite paradise)

The thing is, when you start relaxing about some things, you start relaxing about others. Ryan starts smiling more. He laughs. He even jokes on occasion, which isn’t to say that becomes his usual state of mind. He’s just as aloof and grumpy as ever, but in a relaxed way that’s normal for him.
(But it sure feels like home)

One of the hardest things to adjust to has been the amount of publicity the Ghostbusters get. Every time they go to deal with a bust there are camera crews and Ryan can’t help but bristle, especially since they want to know who the newest Ghostbuster is. He had to give them a name, but knew he couldn’t use his own. Suppose he existed here? The last thing his counterpart would need is this attention. So he told them, in an American accent, that his name was Ryan Darley.
(Not quite paradise)

Fortunately, Venkman handles most of the questions and Ryan’s able to follow Winston’s lead and fade to the background. Still, he hardly ever drops the accent, just in case someone’s listening when they’re not supposed to be.
(We can learn to grow)
He's not a completely new person, but he's certainly changed from when he first arrived.
(Oh, it’ll be alright)
(No, it’s not quite paradise)

Month 1

Oct. 8th, 2007 11:09 pm
captainryan: (Toon!Ryan)
Having a place to run, Ryan quickly sets up a routine. He heads out to the park usually twice a day for a good two hour run. It takes two more run ins with the gangs for the word to spread that he’s to be left alone – or else. After that, he either doesn’t see them or they respectfully look the other way when he passes by.

The morning jogs are even less eventful…at least until the moon approaches. It’s only when the jogger ahead of him stops at a drinking fountain (an interesting and useful American invention) that he realizes he’s been following her for twenty minutes. No, not following, stalking. She looks up, surprised to see him as close as he is, and misinterprets the look on his face as one of lust.

“Pervert,” she informs him none too kindly, and he can’t really blame her. How often do men look like they want to eat her? It does, however, settle the matter that he needs to get out of the city and soon.

“The full moon’s nearly here,” he says when the Ghostbusters have assembled for breakfast.

Week 1

Oct. 8th, 2007 11:05 pm
captainryan: (Toon!Ryan)
(It’s just one of those days)
Being cooped up in the firehouse is starting to take its toll. With the Door refusing to open and Stantz not actively looking for it, Ghostbusters Headquarters has become a very small space indeed. Not that Ryan can blame the man. Ray has other responsibilities, to his team mates (pack mates?), his work, his life and Ryan would react in much the same way were their positions reversed. Well, no, he’d be much more irritated about the whole thing, and he’s irritated enough as is. He wants to go home. He should count himself lucky that it’s Ray’s world he’s landed on, even if it is animated. It’s just he can’t seem to open a door without running into Spengler, Stantz, Venkman, or that bloody green miscreant of a ghost they allow to hang around. He swears, if he loses one more sandwich to Slimer…
(Where you don’t want to wake up)

“Is there someplace where I can run?” he asks politely of Zeddmore after biting back another snarling reprimand at the green spud. He keeps his eyes on the bridge of the man’s nose, teeth hidden behind a thin-lipped smile. He doesn’t know how far he can push these people yet, and still isn’t willing to risk his way home, or to being corporeal.
(Everything is fucked)

Winston looks up from his own sandwich, one Slimer hasn’t touched (probably because Ryan had three). “Central Park isn’t that far. It’s a huge natural looking open space-“
(Everybody sucks)

“Where?” Ryan cuts him off, looking earnest.
(You don’t really know why)
Winston gives him the directions, “But you don’t want to go now. It gets pretty nasty at night.”
(But you want to justify)
Ryan allows himself to meet Zeddmore’s eyes, teeth bared in a vague smile. “I’ll be fine.”
(Ripping someone’s head off)

***
(No human contact)
This feels fantastic. It’s been far, far too long since he last ran, and now he turns himself over to it, pounding out all the frustration and anxiety of the past week, nearly slamming his boots into the trail, and not noticing as he gets deeper and deeper into the park. Or perhaps not caring, at least until the wolf whistle comes from ahead.
(And if you interact)

That startles him alert – surely that’s not for him – and he slows, looking for the source. Standing at the single park lamp is a young man, perhaps Deitmar’s age, watching him. Ryan snorts and begins to pick up his pace again when a younger man, more a teenager, steps out further up, cutting off his path. This one already has a small knife in his hand and Ryan arches an unimpressed brow but stops. Nose twitching, he glances behind him to see a third, with an even longer blade. No guns, though, and no one else hiding in the bushes.
(Your life is on contract)

Decisions, decisions.
(Your best bet is to stay away, motherfucker)
“We was wondering if you could lend us some money,” Lamppost says with a smirk, confidently leaning against the metal behind him. Ryan is well aware there is more than one way to work off frustration, and who would miss three street punks? Still, killing them would leave a problem of disposal, since he can’t just leave the three bodies in the middle of the park. (Part of him wonders what animated blood looks like.) No, a simple disarming should work wonders, he thinks. Unless he spooks them, which he might with the wolfish grin appearing on his face.
(It’s just one of those days)

“I don’t have any,” Ryan answers, locking eyes with the man. There’s a sharp hyena-like laugh from the man behind him.
(It’s just one of those days)
“All them pockets, and you ain’t got a wallet? You think we stupid?”
(Feeling like a freight train)
“Illiterate, perhaps, but decidedly moronic,” Ryan answers dismissively, still looking at the man in front of him.
(First one to complain)
“That’s a pretty funny accent, mister,” Hyena snarls, stepping forward. “You ain’t from around here. We charge extra for that.”
(Leaves with the bloodstain)
“So how ‘bout you dig out that wallet now,” Lamppost adds, standing up from his slouch and showing his own knife.
(Damn right I’m a maniac)
“I told you, I don’t have one,” Ryan annunciates, voice sinking into a growl that continues even when the words don’t. He’s showing more teeth now, and the silent man glances uncertainly at Lamppost, but he and Ryan are still staring at each other.
(You better watch your back)
For a moment, the four are still, the only sound Ryan’s low growl, but Lamppost is unfazed and when the growl stops so Ryan can take a breath, the man darts forward, knife extended. Ryan snarls, even as he catches Lamppost’s wrist and snaps it, sending the knife whirling away into the dark. There’s a sharp cry of pain and a sudden scent dump of fear, but Ryan’s already spinning to deal with Hyena. The werewolf grabs the knife arm, twisting the man around and wrenching the limb until there’s a popping sound, leaving Hyena blubbering in pain. The youngest mugger is gone, leaving a cloud of fear and his friends behind.
(Cos I’m fucking up your program)
Ryan drops Hyena with a sound of disgust and the man wastes no time in fleeing. Ryan turns back to Lamppost, who’s kneeling on the path, hand cradled in his lap. He looks up to see Ryan stalk forward, all predator menace, and lets out a low moan as he tries to back away. The werewolf’s grin grows at that as he catches the man’s shirt, hoisting him to his feet, catching the good wrist in his other hand.
(And if you’re stuck up)

“Please, man, no more!” Lamppost whimpers as Ryan’s nostril’s flare.
(You just lucked up)

“I could kill you,” he says a little dreamily, expression not changing. Lamppost starts kicking then, and Ryan shakes him with a growl. “Listen carefully and you may yet live and learn. I’m going to use these trails, and when I do, I don’t want to be bothered, understood?” When there’s no answer, Ryan frowns, annoyed. “Is that understood?” he asks again, bending the good wrist.
(Next in line to get fucked up)

“Yeah! Yeah! I got it, man!”
(Your best bet is to stay away motherfucker)
“Good. Make sure everyone else understands as well.” Lamppost nods frantically and Ryan releases the shirt, dropping him to the ground. The man looks surprised and Ryan arches a brow. “Well? Off you go.” Lamppost bolts.
(It’s just one of those days)
 ***

The door opens to admit Ryan, a great deal less tense. “Any trouble?” Winston asks from the sofa where he’s stretched out reading a Holmes mystery. He glances up at the captain, who meets his gaze with a slightly toothy grin.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” he answers before the teeth are masked and his eyes slide to the bridge of Zeddmore’s nose. The Ghostbuster watches him a moment, but when no further information is offered, he shrugs and returns to his book.

“Just be careful,” he cautions. He doesn’t see Ryan’s look turn smug.

“Duly noted.”

Day 2-3

Oct. 8th, 2007 10:58 pm
captainryan: (Oh shit)
The second day passes much like the first with Stantz volunteering to open doors when he’s not away on a bust. When a call does come in, it leaves Ryan to prowl the empty rooms, frustrated and increasingly worried. If Suzi and Deitmar’s trip is anything to judge by, he’s going to be here for quite some time. It’s not reassuring in the least, especially since, according to Spengelar, he’s going to start fading on the third day. He knows the man has a machine to fix it, but…

It scares him.

So he does what he usually does when something bothers him that much and he can’t do anything; he ignores it.

The third day proceeds as eventfully as the first two. On a late afternoon call, Ryan’s again stalking through the rooms (he knows the layout by heart now) and keeping himself busy by imagining the many different and inspired ways he can destroy the stone angel responsible for all of this. C4 is getting some serious thought when he reaches for the door handle to the next room and misses it. Scowling at himself for not paying attention, he reaches for the metal again only to find that his hand passes through the knob, leaving a thin coating of ectoplasm behind.

He’s frozen a moment, hand just underneath the handle, watching it fade further until it’s quite clearly translucent. A whimper escapes from him and he slams his emotions down, refusing to allow himself to panic no matter how hard and fast his heart is pounding. He’s never been quite so clearly dead as he is right now, but he can’t focus on that. He can’t. One step at a time; he needs to get downstairs, only he can’t open the door. He knows he can step through the wood, but the thought is unsettling in the worst possible way.

Eventually he forces his eyes shut and steps forward, hearing the schloop sound and feeling the wood pass through him. He feels a bit lighter, now, as though he’s left something behind and realizes that’s probably from passing through a solid obj—no. He’s not going to think about it. He’s going to focus on walking downstairs, but his boots don’t make a sound on the wooden floors, drawing his attention away from his task. He could probably float if he wanted to, and no sooner is the thought finished before he is. He flails, immensely distressed, and wills himself to return to the ground.

Slowly, slowly, he makes it down the stairs to the front desk with about as many mishaps.

“Ms. Melnitz?” he asks as calmly as he can. “How soon are they returning?”

Day 1b

Aug. 28th, 2007 10:48 pm
captainryan: (That's...Interesting)
Ryan hasn't been in a city since before he died. The scents are overwhelming. Not bad, mind you, just...wow. He doesn't even recognize half of these smells (though he could do without the car exhaust). Besides, it helps to distract from the whole cartoon world thing.

To his credit, he hasn't got his head out the window. In fact, he's sitting in his seat like any other human, though his head is thrust towards the influx of air, nostrils flared. What is that scent, and that scent, and that scent...

He feels like he's lived in the country all his life, and he shakes his head slightly as ECTO-1 pulls into the firehouse. He's ready to go home now.

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