If
Just for the sake of neatness, I've decided to post some fics here, so at least I can access them, whether they are on FFN, or here. This makes things a wee bit more convenient for me.
So here's one of the fics I'm transferring:
If
Ghostbusters fic
Genre: Humor, General
Rating: T (I don't know, I always rate stuff T, just in case.)
Summary: What if it wasn't Ray who summoned Gozer? AU.
If
Or Also Known As What Happened When It Wasn't Ray Who Summoned Gozer;
“…So empty your heads!” Peter Venkman said, quickly, before any of them could imagine something, and summon up Gozer to destroy the world. “Empty your heads- don’t think of anything.” He saw Winston Zeddemore close his eyes tightly, saw the look of tight discipline on Egon Spengler’s face, saw the slight frown, as Ray Stantz stared off into the distance. “We’ve only got one shot at this!” He added, quickly emptying his own mind.
Purple light flashed- for a moment, he feared he hadn’t emptied his head quick enough, but knew it couldn’t have been. “THE CHOICE IS MADE.” The snarling voice boomed.
“Whoa! Whoa!” He shouted, furiously. They’d all emptied their heads! What was Gozer playing at?
“THE TRAVELLER HAS COME.”
The storm-cloud covered skies above flashed with a brief, distant illumination- probably from lightning. “Nobody choosed anything!” He yelled, heedless to the proper grammar. He whirled around, turning to the first Ghostbuster he saw.
“Did you choose anything?” He demanded, of Winston.
“My mind is a total blank!” Winston protested, throwing his hands up in the air. Satisfied, Peter turned to Ray.
“Did you?” He demanded of Ray.
“No!” Ray exclaimed. Furious, he turned back to the large, towering, stone temple spire. Jagged edges showed where carvings had been torn away by the sheer force of Gozer’s power over the elements.
“I didn’t choose anything!” Peter yelled.
A quick instant of silence, before the implications became clear, and warily, they all turned, at the same time, to slowly face a guilty Egon. They advanced, slowly, on him.
“I’m sorry.” Egon said, quietly, with an edge of desperation to him. “I couldn’t help it. It just popped in there.”
“What?” Peter demanded, immediately, his face close to Egon’s. He couldn’t think of a more complex statement, at that point of time. “What just popped in there.” His voice was low, but fierce. They were facing a Sumerian god. They were facing a Sumerian god, in the form of whatever “just popped” into Egon’s mind.
He wasn’t certain if he wanted to know exactly how mad a mad scientist Egon was. Nor how dangerous what a mad scientist thought of could be to four, ordinary people…with unlicensed nuclear accelerators on their backs.
“Look!” Winston shouted.
Distantly, they heard the stomping of giant feet, with crushing, slow deliberate power. Egon’s eyes widened, partly with guilt, partly with shock. “Spengler!” Peter shouted, in near frustration. “Stay with me here! What did you think of?” He fought an insane urge to slap Egon into thinking- Egon was acting like someone in shock, half-dreamy, and he needed to get Egon out of it- fast.
Around the corner- and then they saw it.
A giant, walking fungus, similar to the fungi in Egon’s collection, stomped its slow way down the streets of New York. Peter couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the stark, raving mad, hysterical laughs that poured from his throat. “You- you- of all the things you could have thought of, you thought of-“
“That I hadn’t checked on my basidiobolus ranarum.” Egon completed, shame-faced.
“Typical.” Winston said, as he stared at the advancing giant walking-fungus. He, too, felt a strange, almost hysterical desire to break out into laughter at the idiosyncracy of this. “Who else would have thought of fungus, when a moldy old Sumerian god decides to pay New York a visit?”
“It could have been worse.” Ray managed to gasp out. He was less affected by laughter than Peter or Winston were. “What if he’d thought of a proton pack or something? Or the Tuganska blast of-“
“Egon,” Peter managed, as the fungus made its deliberate way towards them. He wasn’t even sure how that…that thing saw. “You are not taking a sample back to the firehouse…for your collection.”
-finis-
And we, of course, know how it ended.
This is starting to piss me off. Why is my lj-cut screwing up only now and thus bolding and underlining everything?
So here's one of the fics I'm transferring:
If
Ghostbusters fic
Genre: Humor, General
Rating: T (I don't know, I always rate stuff T, just in case.)
Summary: What if it wasn't Ray who summoned Gozer? AU.
If
Or Also Known As What Happened When It Wasn't Ray Who Summoned Gozer;
“…So empty your heads!” Peter Venkman said, quickly, before any of them could imagine something, and summon up Gozer to destroy the world. “Empty your heads- don’t think of anything.” He saw Winston Zeddemore close his eyes tightly, saw the look of tight discipline on Egon Spengler’s face, saw the slight frown, as Ray Stantz stared off into the distance. “We’ve only got one shot at this!” He added, quickly emptying his own mind.
Purple light flashed- for a moment, he feared he hadn’t emptied his head quick enough, but knew it couldn’t have been. “THE CHOICE IS MADE.” The snarling voice boomed.
“Whoa! Whoa!” He shouted, furiously. They’d all emptied their heads! What was Gozer playing at?
“THE TRAVELLER HAS COME.”
The storm-cloud covered skies above flashed with a brief, distant illumination- probably from lightning. “Nobody choosed anything!” He yelled, heedless to the proper grammar. He whirled around, turning to the first Ghostbuster he saw.
“Did you choose anything?” He demanded, of Winston.
“My mind is a total blank!” Winston protested, throwing his hands up in the air. Satisfied, Peter turned to Ray.
“Did you?” He demanded of Ray.
“No!” Ray exclaimed. Furious, he turned back to the large, towering, stone temple spire. Jagged edges showed where carvings had been torn away by the sheer force of Gozer’s power over the elements.
“I didn’t choose anything!” Peter yelled.
A quick instant of silence, before the implications became clear, and warily, they all turned, at the same time, to slowly face a guilty Egon. They advanced, slowly, on him.
“I’m sorry.” Egon said, quietly, with an edge of desperation to him. “I couldn’t help it. It just popped in there.”
“What?” Peter demanded, immediately, his face close to Egon’s. He couldn’t think of a more complex statement, at that point of time. “What just popped in there.” His voice was low, but fierce. They were facing a Sumerian god. They were facing a Sumerian god, in the form of whatever “just popped” into Egon’s mind.
He wasn’t certain if he wanted to know exactly how mad a mad scientist Egon was. Nor how dangerous what a mad scientist thought of could be to four, ordinary people…with unlicensed nuclear accelerators on their backs.
“Look!” Winston shouted.
Distantly, they heard the stomping of giant feet, with crushing, slow deliberate power. Egon’s eyes widened, partly with guilt, partly with shock. “Spengler!” Peter shouted, in near frustration. “Stay with me here! What did you think of?” He fought an insane urge to slap Egon into thinking- Egon was acting like someone in shock, half-dreamy, and he needed to get Egon out of it- fast.
Around the corner- and then they saw it.
A giant, walking fungus, similar to the fungi in Egon’s collection, stomped its slow way down the streets of New York. Peter couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the stark, raving mad, hysterical laughs that poured from his throat. “You- you- of all the things you could have thought of, you thought of-“
“That I hadn’t checked on my basidiobolus ranarum.” Egon completed, shame-faced.
“Typical.” Winston said, as he stared at the advancing giant walking-fungus. He, too, felt a strange, almost hysterical desire to break out into laughter at the idiosyncracy of this. “Who else would have thought of fungus, when a moldy old Sumerian god decides to pay New York a visit?”
“It could have been worse.” Ray managed to gasp out. He was less affected by laughter than Peter or Winston were. “What if he’d thought of a proton pack or something? Or the Tuganska blast of-“
“Egon,” Peter managed, as the fungus made its deliberate way towards them. He wasn’t even sure how that…that thing saw. “You are not taking a sample back to the firehouse…for your collection.”
-finis-
And we, of course, know how it ended.
This is starting to piss me off. Why is my lj-cut screwing up only now and thus bolding and underlining everything?