pkemeter: (Default)
Egon Spengler ([personal profile] pkemeter) wrote2018-12-24 02:49 pm
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Victory Road IC Inbox



"You have reached Dr. Egon Spengler. Please leave a message, preferably fifty words or less."
neverstudied: (14)

[personal profile] neverstudied 2019-01-07 10:59 pm (UTC)(link)
So that's why your hand looked so terrible on New Years. How long does the effect hang around?

Containment unit's not a bad idea. I think we're still... At least a few hours from the nearest city, and that's if I get that ostrich to hurry. I don't wanna carry a deer that whole time.

Alright, little guy. I'm gonna grab something from my bag- it's not gonna hurt ya.

[Venkman half turns to dig through the main pocket in the bag, taking his eyes off the Deerling for the moment. Unfortunately, by partially healing the Deerling, he's allowed it to get some of its strength back.

You know where this is going.

As far as kicks go, it's not as bad as it could've been, since the Deerling is still lying on its side with a giant isopod sitting on top of it. But Venkman still doubles over, wheezing from the impact to his gut.]


MOTHERFUCKER!

[The Deerling appears startled by the shout, but only manages to stumble when it tries to run away. It bleats again.]

Yeah, yeah, you have- no right to complain. That hurt, you ungrateful little bastard. [He sucks in a breath, feeling at his stomach where the hoof nailed him.] Little higher up and you could've cracked my ribs, and then where would we be? Both of us stranded in the woods together, relying on the kindness of the ostrich to see if they'd drag us to a center or abandon us to die.

[Venkman finally finds a Pokeball, and looks at the Deerling, unimpressed.]

Alright. You're going in this thing, and you're not gonna give me any trouble about it. Because otherwise I have to hold you for the next god-knows-how-long. And you don't want that.

[He clicks the latch on the Pokeball, and the red light flashes, enveloping the Deerling, who bleats in concern and tries to back away. It disappears into the ball, and Venkman glares at it as it wriggles back and forth.]
neverstudied: (05)

[personal profile] neverstudied 2019-01-08 03:45 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, my bad, Spengs, for swearing in front of the embryo when I just got hit in the stomach. This is how Houdini died, you know.

[The Pokeball finally stops wriggling and makes a quiet "click" noise. Venkman sighs in relief, putting the Pokeball down and rubbing his face with one hand. After a moment, he picks the Pokegear up so he can see Egon again.]

Yeah, yeah. I still don't want to get a job, but I guess it could be useful.

[At least basic knowledge of Pokemon medicine and restraint would be a world of help right now.]

... I would maybe kind of appreciate that. Yeah. Thanks.

[He had plans to con a hotel or inn into letting him stay the night but now he's got an injured baby deer to worry about, throwing an added wrench in his plans.]
neverstudied: (04)

[personal profile] neverstudied 2019-01-08 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Houdini had this thing about having a stomach of iron and being able to take any blow. But some idiot gut-punched him when he was lying down and unprepared, and it aggravated his appendicitis to the point of killing him.

[Egon has his fungus knowledge. Venkman has circus, carnival, and magician-themed trivia. Obviously, they're equally useful.]

He didn't die because of ghosts, but we did have to deal with his ghost, once. Uh, with the other Egon.

... I said I'd appreciate it. You dick.
neverstudied: (12)

[personal profile] neverstudied 2019-01-09 04:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Thanks, Egie. Love ya.

[He says it a little too fast and dismissively, but he means it.]

I guess he didn't really look much like Houdini, but he only manifested when some two-bit poser magician stole his stuff for his own act. Plus, he could escape the ghost traps.