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gone_byebye wrote in milliways_bar
[OOM: And the battle is finally joined....]

The door opens.

"Oh, this is convenient," says Ray, closing the door carefully behind him as he steps through. He's in his work jumpsuit, of course, and pretty much slimed from head to foot. "Hey, can I get a couple of towels and a bottle of Dr. Bronner's soap, please? We've got considerably more ectoplasm at the moment than I can feasibly deal with on my own. Thanks..."

That being said, he makes some effort to detach the proton pack from his back without disturbing Jhalak too much. It'll be easier to get her clean if he can sit down first.


[tinytag: Jhalak (Long-Reach the Jotok), Annabelle Newfield]

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"RAY!" Tyler is so glad to see his mentor friend that right now, Ray is going to have the kid tackling his torso, nevermind the ectoplasm.

"Aigh!" says Ray, or something similar; he hadn't been expecting that... "Tyler? Oh, man, it's good to see you! How long have I been gone?"

"A little over 2 months." Tyler says, pointing at the holiday decorations around the bar. "When I didn't see you in the bar all October I started getting worried!"

"... huh. I'm lagging behind, then," Ray says, blinking. "It's only November fifth. This is the first I've been able to get here in ages, not for lack of trying..."

"What happened? Why didn't your door work, and why does the ectoplasm smell like rancid jell-o?"

"Well, um, as nearly as I can tell, my door didn't work because Milliways wanted to protect itself from what was happening in my world," Ray says. "As far as what happened, the short version is that not only did my world get to see the second coming of Gozer the Gozerian within our lifetimes, but a very careless fishing vessel managed to blunder into the waters around R'lyeh and between them and the military battle group that had been trying to keep them out, they sort of woke Great Cthulhu up. At the same time."

Tyler's face will just do this now, and soundlessly, with a serious helping of ewwwwww.

"WHY WAS GOZER BACK??"

"Because the man who built that building in New York City had close to a thousand followers when he died back in 1925 and nobody was able to track them all down after his passing," Ray says. "And, well, a lot of them decided they ought to carry on Ivo Shandor's work."

"......I hope Gozer eats them for breakfast." Tyler says when the muscles in his jaw remember it's important to snap shut.
.

.

.

"Wait. Where did they decide to carry on that work?"

"At least six islands in the Caribbean. There's probably more locations around the world, but we were only able to isolate those six hotels," Ray says. "If you ever become insanely rich and famous for some reason I strongly advise you to look into the history of anywhere with a name like 'Firefly Resort' should you become interested in private islands like Mustique."

"......Ray? Did those hotels help cause Ryleh?"

"Probably not," Ray says, "but I can't be sure. We don't have any real data on possible Shandor architecture in the Pacific rim region, since the majority of the countries there aren't really equipped to have any kind of paranormal incident recording one way or another. It may simply have been the same big shift in my world's dimensional proximity to the time of the Great Old Ones as what happened up north."

"Ray, sometimes I think a lot of the people in your world think that being dangled over a pit of things ready to eat you is fun." At least from his judgement regarding cultists. "What is going to happen to them now?"

"Well..." Ray rubs at the back of his neck. "That kind of depends on how soon the Justice Department can get an extradition request to the government of the Grenadines. Not to mention investigating the rest of the cultists around the world, since the batch we found had married and had grandkids, so there's probably more of them than the original thousand or so by now- assuming they didn't drift away from the flock over time."

"I think after summoning Gozer, they're not going to have a whole lot of trouble putting searches on Gozer worshippers."

"Especially since there's a pretty good chance the Gozer worshippers'll be coming to look for him."

"...You wanna lob some Daffy Putty at em?"

"At this point that's more the priority of the Navy," says Ray. "Things got really, really ugly for a while."

Ray's covered in more ectoplasm than his usual job. The lil green alien is also not so much cheerful looking, and Cthulu just rose up from the ocean and... Oh he forgot something here didn't he?

"...Ray? Did you choose Gozer's form again?"

"Well, yes," Ray says, "but I sort of had to. Somebody had to fight Cthulhu."

"....Ray? I think it's time for ovaltine mugs the size of our heads." Tyler replies, wide-eyed. "Who won?"

"That... would be Gozer," Ray says. "Probably because I picked the one form I could think of that operates on a scale more universally destructive than mere Cthulhian chaos."

.

.

.

"Ray. What. did. you. do?"

Ray coughs a little.

"Does the name 'Unicron' mean anything to you?" he says carefully.








"Ray, I don't know if they make mugs big enough for this kind of trouble."

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