milliways_bar | Walking in a Winter Wonderland...

It's entirely possible that he'll run into that person if he happens to glance over towards the forest, towards the flashes of green and lesser flashes of red, and the occasional "OW!" and "Yipe!" and "Tesla's bones that hurt!"

Assuming that's the person he's hoping to run into, which may or may not be the case.

Egon is attracted by the flashes of light and such, and begins to walk that way. Something about the cold night, with the snow on the ground, makes him whisper to himself as he walks

"Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow."

He continues onwards, smiling slightly, hearing another small yelp. While not the person he was immediately hoping to find, still, he's feeling a bit homesick - not for New York, which surprised him, but someplace etched deeper in his soul.

"My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year."

He crests a hill, having walked a bit, and coming back towards the bar - and what an odd occurance to the place, looking to him like an old-fashioned farmhouse, almost.

"He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake."

And as Ray Stantz comes into sight, waving the lightsabre around as flashes of light go by, Egon smiles. It's not his usual restrained smile, though - somehow, he thinks, being here has made him appreciate his friends more.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."

And then he's there, a respectful distance away, waiting for Ray to find a good pausing place before greeting him, a small smile still on his face.

Ray is unaware of the poem, or of the witness, or any of those things. He's busy defending his knees, and his shins, and his toes. At some point he's just SURE that damned remote is going to start cackling "dance, milkman, dance!" in binary.

If I were a sadistic piece of metal trying to embarrass a woefully inadequate human, where would I shoot him next? he thinks. And he remembers how many times his ankles've wobbled during some of his broadsword practices, and brings the 'sabre blade down-

Before the shot is fired, for once. And in exactly the right position, at exactly the right angle, to bounce the blaster bolt back dead square at the remote.

It's a one in a million chance, the hole-in-one shot on St. Andrews' seventeenth hole, the home run swing in the ninth inning with two men out and three men on. And it works.

He's gonna do him a li'l victory dance around the fallen remote for a while now, mmkay?

Egon just watches, terribly amused.

What else can he really do? There's such glee there.

Egon should've been here the day after the demon war, when Qui-Gon Jinn told Ray he'd passed his Trials. The words 'Jedi' and 'tacklehug' usually don't appear in the same sentence, unless of course 'Ray Stantz' is in there too.

Eventually, of course, he finishes his Mighty Hunter routine and scoops up the ball. It'll work again when he resets it, but for now, it's being switched off and stashed away. And somewhere in the process he catches sight of a watcher-

"Hi, Egon!" he calls out. "Were you watching? Did you see?"

"I did indeed," Egon admits. "I doubt I have the speed to do such a thing, but it seemed rather impressive." He tilts his head a little. "I'm not sure of the practical use of it in late 20th century New York City, except perhaps in parts of the Bowery, but the skills are decidedly impressive."

"Of course, once I crack the math on the close-range proton engagement tool, I think it will be quite helpful." He pulls something out of a pocket and offers it to Ray. It is a deep brown and has a funny white thing on it.

"Cupcake?"

Ray grins. "Hey, considering how much we put our arms through every time we get the throwers out and turn 'em on past half stream, it's more than time I got a little limberness training in. Besides, I've had the chance to test this against a couple of spooks in my world. They don't like it at all. You should see how disruptive it is to their psychoengrammatic PKE matrix..."

He hooks the handle onto his belt and reaches out. "Gimme. How's your day been?"

Egon surrenders the cupcake.

"Not too terrible. I just felt the need for some air. It's remarkably clear out here; I needed to get outside for a bit." He stretches a bit. "The chairs are comfortable and pleasant, but sometimes, well..." He looks slightly embarassed. "I suppose it's cabin fever."

"It happens," Ray says sympathetically. In response to some ingrained instinct, he breaks the cupcake in half and offers half back. "I've had days when I've just been 'screwdrivered out' and couldn't even look at another circuitboard without screaming. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I just feel... very odd." He shrugs, and takes the half. "Like things are in some way rushing away from me. It's disconcerting." He eats the half-cupcake. "I'm not used to having... no real work except what I make. Since the Gozer Incident, well..."

"I suppose I'm just not reacting well to idleness."

"I know the feeling," Ray says sympathetically. "It's a little weird to look back and realize I used to be as lazy as I was at Columbia. I've sort of been trying to keep my schedule full since then- it's easier than it looks, around this place. There's research opportunities everywhere you look, if you try."

Not to mention the opportunity to pursue other interests, as the 'sabre makes only too clear.

"I filled up five or six notebooks my first fortnight here, just trying to keep busy."

"I was never particularly idle," Egon notes to Ray. "Part of me wonders that, if I'm not dead, I'm here to learn to relax a bit, and be idle to explore other concepts in life." He quirks a small smile.

"Perhaps I'll build a snowman."

"Of course you weren't. If you went idle with the amount of sugar you normally consume in the course of a day, your pancreas would chew its way out and seek sanctuary at NYU Medical Center." But he smiles. "Relaxing might not be a bad idea, though. One of the people I know here got locked down by the Bar because he's an emergency room physician in the UK and kept an intern's hours. He didn't get let out until he went back to doing things like sleeping more than an hour and a half at a stretch."

"That could be fun- did you want some help?"

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Yeah, he's out here. And no, he's not happy.
And he's been practicing with the bokken all day.

If you call frantic waving and frequent cursing practicing that is.

"Good evening, Peter," Egon calls out, standing away and out of range. "Are you practicing or trying to invoke the butterfly effect for someone you don't like on the other side of the world?"

"Practicing, and see your wit hasn't changed at all, Spengs." Peter commented.

"One tries to be consistant, Peter." Egon has, of all things, a small smile on his face. "It's a lovely night. Your practice seems to be somewhat random; should I throw snowballs at you to practice avoiding?"

"I forgot, you're the Egon with something resembling a human's sense of humor."

Peter then dropped his sword, "Been out here too damn already. Just needed the air really." And to get away from everybody in case he really did lose it.

Egon takes a deep breath. "I can see why. It is exceptionally clear air. Much nicer than New York. It's always best when the air is clear, isn't it, Peter?"

Poke.

Peter glared some. Oh yes, been a while but he remembered these discussions.

"Crystal clear. Doesn't beat New York. It's too pure here. Too open and exposed."

"I don't know. In some ways, it's much better than New York. Something pure. Something to make you reflect about your life. Something about renewal, and finding yourself again." Egon's voice sounds almost a little wistful.

"Only if you like what you find when you do," Peter darkly replied.

He added, "But yeah, a lot of people here end up doing just that. Been doing some soul searching yourself?" Is he trying to redirect focus? Maaaaybe.

"More like relaxing. Unwinding. There are two theories I currently have of why I am Bound; one of them is that I am too focused on my work and need to expand my mental horizons. Release my obsessions a bit. Which is understandable - if you gnaw on an idea too much, it begins to gnaw back." And in the verbal game of ping-pong, Spengler sends the ball back.

"Usually one's gnawing on an idea because they're trying to figure it out, and some ideas are harder to chew, much less swallow than others." Been a while, but Peter remembered these sessions well, and they were both old hands at it. Ever since Columbia, and late night discussions especially over cocoa.

"This is true. However, when one is chewing on things, they need to keep in mind other things. For example, when looking at the darkness in the soul, they need to remember the bright things there." Egon glances at Peter. "Including the fact that there are people willing to help look... if you're willing to let them see."

This is different from most of the talks they have - neither is trying to rouse the other's ire deliberately; it's two men who know each other - even if they're not from the same universe - well enough that, if it wasn't for the fact that Egon was trying to broach the subject gently (well, gently for Egon), he'd have just come up to Peter and started lecturing. BUt that would have done neither of them any good.