Prelect [Ghostbusters; Egon Spengler]
Jan. 3rd, 2021 02:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
schizoauthoress_libraryTitle: Prelect
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none, set in a vague timeframe of the first two movies
Warnings: mild language
Prompt/Fill: “Okay, who threw the pencil at me?”
Word Count: 320
Summary: Egon lectures. The usual culprits misbehave.
Prelect
Egon was in the middle of expounding on a particular parallel between Etruscan polytheism and the later Roman religion as it related to certain design elements as seen in their current case – all signs pointing to an accidental summoning at the Museum of Arts and Design. Perhaps a dry subject, but undeniably important at the moment.
Something small hit the back of his head when he looked to his chalkboard again. Someone snickered.
Egon turned, even as his hand went up to cradle whatever was now tangled in his curls. He fixed Peter, Ray, and Winston with his best “unimpressed” face, which had gotten a lot of use in his days as a professor, then glanced over at his hand.
A pencil, thankfully not all that sharp, with a brand new eraser cap on the end. It was the cap that had caught in his hair.
Ray was smothering laughter with both hands, as Peter regarded the whole room with a familiar smirk. Winston leaned back in his chair and, without hesitation, pointed a finger at Peter.
Peter’s smirk dissolved into an open-mouthed, affronted stare at Winston. “Snitch!” he cried.
“Asshole,” Winston shot back immediately. Ray snorted back another round of laughter, this time at Peter’s expense.
Peter stuck his tongue out at Winston. “I’m bored! This is boring!”
Egon rapped his knuckles on the table to get their attention again. “See how bored you are if you try to invoke the return of the wrong demigod.”
Winston stretched out and nudged at Peter’s chair with his foot. “With your luck, it’ll vomit on you or something.”
Peter scowled, and muttered, “All right, all right…” but then sat up and folded his hands, the very picture of attentiveness. He nodded at Egon. “Continue.”
Egon pinched the bridge of his nose, resolved to remind Peter of this very thing when they were actually out in the field, and did so.
*-*-*-*-*
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none, set in a vague timeframe of the first two movies
Warnings: mild language
Prompt/Fill: “Okay, who threw the pencil at me?”
Word Count: 320
Summary: Egon lectures. The usual culprits misbehave.
Prelect
Egon was in the middle of expounding on a particular parallel between Etruscan polytheism and the later Roman religion as it related to certain design elements as seen in their current case – all signs pointing to an accidental summoning at the Museum of Arts and Design. Perhaps a dry subject, but undeniably important at the moment.
Something small hit the back of his head when he looked to his chalkboard again. Someone snickered.
Egon turned, even as his hand went up to cradle whatever was now tangled in his curls. He fixed Peter, Ray, and Winston with his best “unimpressed” face, which had gotten a lot of use in his days as a professor, then glanced over at his hand.
A pencil, thankfully not all that sharp, with a brand new eraser cap on the end. It was the cap that had caught in his hair.
Ray was smothering laughter with both hands, as Peter regarded the whole room with a familiar smirk. Winston leaned back in his chair and, without hesitation, pointed a finger at Peter.
Peter’s smirk dissolved into an open-mouthed, affronted stare at Winston. “Snitch!” he cried.
“Asshole,” Winston shot back immediately. Ray snorted back another round of laughter, this time at Peter’s expense.
Peter stuck his tongue out at Winston. “I’m bored! This is boring!”
Egon rapped his knuckles on the table to get their attention again. “See how bored you are if you try to invoke the return of the wrong demigod.”
Winston stretched out and nudged at Peter’s chair with his foot. “With your luck, it’ll vomit on you or something.”
Peter scowled, and muttered, “All right, all right…” but then sat up and folded his hands, the very picture of attentiveness. He nodded at Egon. “Continue.”
Egon pinched the bridge of his nose, resolved to remind Peter of this very thing when they were actually out in the field, and did so.
*-*-*-*-*
