[epaego]

⇢ 📌

[CURRENTLY ON A BREAK].

❛ I'm WALTER PECK . I represent the Environmental Protection Agency, the third district. ❜

「 E P A E G O 」 ⇢ SELECTIVE / INDEPENDENT Walter Peck from the Ghostbusters' franchise. Written by OLI

CARRD 「 rules / about 」 | OPENS | PLAYLIST

[epaego]

「 sorry for the dead air here, having immense writer's block. working on it lol. 」

[epaego]

「 probably on break, work has been so mind numbing that it's killing my drive. If you want to chat im on discord!. Hoping to return soon. Much LOVEEEE 」

[moonstruck--musings]

🏠 ·₊˚  𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞.  —  various  sentence  starters  from  the  book  house  of  leaves.  ( EXHIBIT I. )

❝ This is not for you. ❞

❝ I still get nightmares. ❞

❝ I should be used to them by now. I'm not. ❞

❝ I'm so tired. Sleep's been stalking me for too long to remember. ❞

❝ Inevitable I suppose. ❞

❝ Sadly though, I'm not looking forward to the prospect. ❞

❝ Who knows, if I hadn't heard the phone ring, would everything be different now? ❞

❝ I think about that alot. ❞

❝ I didn't think much of it, though it wasn't exactly the kind of thing you forget either. ❞

❝ We never did. Talk them down, I mean. ❞

❝ We knew what we'd find. ❞

❝ We knew that guy was dead. ❞

❝ Not a soul in sight. ❞

❝ I don't want to end up like that. ❞

❝ Look at yourself. ❞

❝ I should have turned around right then. ❞

❝ Ever see yourself doing something in the past and no matter how many times you remember it you still want to scream stop, somehow redirect the action, reorder the present? ❞

❝ It doesn't matter anyway. ❞

❝ They just vanished. ❞

❝ You'll see for yourself. ❞

❝ I found these gouges in the hardwood floor, a good six or seven inches long. Very weird. ❞

❝ Back then, I think I was elsewhere. ❞

❝ This will probably really wig you out, I don't care. ❞

❝ I lost sight of those dreams. ❞

❝ Back then it had overwhelmed me. ❞

❝ Of course all of that's gone now. Long Gone. ❞

❝ Which still isn't entirely accurate; though don't be mislead into thinking I'm not trying to be accurate. ❞

❝ To my eye, it was all just junk. ❞

❝ What did I know then? What do I know now? ❞

❝ Or maybe I'm wrong. ❞

❝ I took it home. ❞

❝ I never read for more than an hour. ❞

❝ This wasn't the last time I lost sense of time either. ❞

❝ Something terrible was going to happen. Eventually something terrible did happen. ❞

❝ I haven't even washed the blood off yet. Not all of it's mine either. ❞

[epaego]

Wrist-deep in the aggregating pile, still in the midst of pulling out a particularly dense wad of paperwork, Peck's head snaps up at Durán's declaration. His eyebrows bunch and his teeth glint like bone china when his lips tug into a defensive grimace, watching as the menu recedes into the recesses of the attorney's lap. His response is instinctive.

❛ What is that supposed to mean? ❜ Couldn't handle a dish? As if.

[duran-duran-esq]

Dark brown eyes give Peck a cursory once over. Sure, she's never once seen that man eat, but there's no doubt in her mind that she has correctly assessed the situation. “Let me ask you this;” the lawyer leans back in her seat as she continues with her direct examination, “what's the spiciest thing you’ve ever had and actually enjoyed?” 

[epaego]

Now thoroughly uninterested in his continued attempts to wrangle the monotonous PCOC reports loose from tomb of tedium that they were embedded beneath, Peck retracts his arm and peers across at Durán, hard. Far more necessary needs to attend to; chiefly, his pride.

❛ I don't see why I need to present you a list of meals to be allowed to order Mexican food. ❜ He snips, gesturing with one hand at this great injustice.

[spicegrrrlarch]

belinda's busy setting out her old teapot, tossing in a few teabags as the kettle sets in to boil, "yes, she. uh - no, not the teapot, silly!" her hand waves, reaching into a cupboard for some teacups, "there's a little old lady, she's harmless, just a bit grumpy and -- oh, funnily enough, she's french! or speaks it." blin sighs, leaning against the counter as she looks upward to the thing, still stuck in place - looking like a bad prank.

"of course it's a priority, don't be silly. i'm gasping for a cuppa - and nothing gets done without one. not back home, anyway." the kettle starts whistling and it's used in the teapot, "i'm not afraid of no ghost, or so goes the old adage, hm?" something pricks the back of her neck and the model turns around, looking at the small woman in the corner, hunched and squinting, "ah, bonjour! see, darling, she's harmless."

[epaego]

Peck continues to regard the haunted porcelain with great reproach, his body seems to contort in sharp angles — his shoulders jut upwards and his elbows out, as if trying to deter any spirits through repellent body language alone. He doesn't resemble a man invited over for tea, but rather a porcupine back against a corner, near bristling.

❛ You assume she's harmless, certainly, but what if she's, ❜ Walter grasps for a term that doesn't make him sound like a charlatan, fails, ❛ demonic.. or dangerous? ❜ What if its visage was a facade? Designed to drop guards.

He's about to spit something repugnant in response to Belinda's explicit mention of the Ghostbusters, because of course one would have their fears alleviated when armed with nuclear technology, but her greeting sent him reeling instead. He clatters back with enough force to hit her cabinets, eyes bulging.

[epaego]

「 sorry for the dead air here, having immense writer's block. working on it lol. 」

[epaego]

「 sorry for the dead air here, having immense writer's block. working on it lol. 」

[duran-duran-esq]

⚖️ i fear there's something deeply wrong with all of them <3 @spicegrrrl, @epaego, @spxnglr, @doctorvenko

[duran-duran-esq]

⚖️You’ve Reached Durán Law: @epaego liked this post for a short starter. 

“Addendum; I’m willing to order from anywhere other than here.” She reaches across the sea of reports they’ve been sifting through over the course of the last four hours to pluck a takeout menu out of the array of local restaurants and slides it back into an accordion folder. “You can’t handle the pressure of a Latin American dish.”

[epaego]

Wrist-deep in the aggregating pile, still in the midst of pulling out a particularly dense wad of paperwork, Peck's head snaps up at Durán's declaration. His eyebrows bunch and his teeth glint like bone china when his lips tug into a defensive grimace, watching as the menu recedes into the recesses of the attorney's lap. His response is instinctive.

❛ What is that supposed to mean? ❜ Couldn't handle a dish? As if.

[epaego]

「 will get back to writing properly soon I hope, have been in a writer's block. save me. 」

[spicegrrrlarch]

Visit Original Link

BELINDA ANDILET TELLS US ALL ABOUT her diplomat-child upbringing, supermodel jet setting, being an icon of the punk scene and just how exactly billy idol likes his eggs in the morning.

she's britain's it-girl, and she's captured our hearts for many years - from her award winning charity, to her (allegedly) insured set of pins, what's not to love about our cheeky ms andilet?

cool britannia is well and truly alive on @spicegrrrl, ran by daisy, who is chronically clinging to the 90s, they/them.

[glowcowboy]

can i be your significant bother

[epaego]

happy v-day!! <3

「 receiving this politely and with my mouth shut, thank you flaca & lola!!!. 」

[epaego]

「 like this and I will drag Peck by the scruff of his neck to your inbox to give your muse a v/palentine's. 」

[thefleetingflashofa-sword623]

Would you still like me if i made a grave mistake right in front of you

[escapedartgeek]

The sheer cold of the whole thing only made Zora feel all the more sensitive to their internal peculiarities. That constant cosmic warmth became quite sharp against the sheer coolness that was surrounding each and every person in this building right now. It's a sensation that they might be intrigued by if not for the sheer panic that was going on. This was no time to ponder these kinds of unusual reactions - they had to get out of the way of these ghosts.

And being such a damn near crush situation wasn't going to cut it.

Seeing Peck wrinkle his nose, Z can't help the slight sigh coming from their face. It didn't take much for them to understand he was definitely still accusing them at having caused all this shit.

Which if they had.. they would not be responding like this, Zora knows that for a fact.

But at the very least he concedes that they would have to take another direction to get out of this situation. Before they could respond, there he is lurching back towards a staff only door and Z finds themself shifting,moving to follow quickly, if only to be prepared for what other mess might be coming up in this 'escape' attempt.

[epaego]

If he were to spend any of his time herding members of the public through adverse circumstances, Peck knew any exertion would be for naught. This effort would probably be more appreciated amongst rodents down in the sewers if he tried his hand at marshaling them. And so, when he breaks from the human entanglement, knocking a few civilians out of his warpath with his boney shoulders, he does not wait to see if Zora is perusing him. He wants out and so he's getting out.

The trample of footsteps seems to confirm that they have elected to follow him, although after he barges through the door Peck makes sure to throw his head over his shoulder to ascertain that noise is being produced by somebody corporeal. Zora's unimpressed expression is what greets him. And his initial thrum of relief is immediately squandered by his sensibilities, an instinctive flare of defensiveness.

But still, priorities.

With the shuttered door obscuring them from the swarm of spirits careening about in the foyer, Peck slows, sucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he considers their predicament. ❛ Have you ever been here before? ❜ He begins, grinding his teeth.

❛ I don't know the first thing about this building's layout. ❜ Glancing back and forth supplies no further information, the corridor is vacant and expansive.

[daemonsdaed]

What a joke. If madness could be measured on a standardized scale, the human mayhem far outranked anything spectral. At this rate, the citizens of New York would take themselves out, no ghostly intervention needed. Cherry's diminutive stature made it easier to bob and weave through the crowds. Ordinarily, she'd have been visiting family back in San Francisco this time of year. Now, she was deep in the trenches.

It could have been worse. She could have been deeper. At least she was still standing, not flat on the ground—like that guy. Cherry swooped in low and tugged at the back of his shirt with a surprising strength.

"Can you believe this? Haven't seen people trampling each other so bad since the Cabbage Patch riots." Maybe a bit too breezy, but it was a touch friendlier than "Get up before you join these ghosts."

She cast a quick glance around to scope out any immediate threat, anything that would make the man cower in the gutter. The howling ghosts were hostile, but far from the most dangerous to traverse the city. It was a simple numbers game. There weren't enough of them to terrorize all the living. Somehow, she doubted that would be a comfort to him. Then she saw the lumbering form moving his way.

"Hey, you've got two functioning legs, don't you?" Despite their difference in size, she roughly attempted to pull him to his feet. "C'mon, big guy, work with me here." What should have been a reassuring smile came out closer to a fear grimace. "Come with me if you want to live?" With her pink hair and yellow jumpsuit, she certainly looked the part of some larger-than-life film character.

[epaego]

Palms still syrupy with some coagulation of sweat and gutter filth, Peck floundered to rid himself from the contact as soon as he felt the friction from his jacket. He swiped once blindly and then scrubbed at his face with the back of his hand, hurriedly trying the identify the yellow smear which was now occupying his periphery.

He had been knocked flat by the amalgam of people and ghosts, which tangled together as the collective heaved away from Central Park West, and had been gathering breath for his next escape attempt. He knew that this immobility would only afford him a few moments of camouflage, with the curb blanketing him from frenzied eyes but not inquisitive ones, and Peck he had been planning to use it to the fullest extent. That plan had not come into fruition. He had been spotted.

❛ What - who- ❜ His obscured vision revealed this vibrant blur to be a women clad in a gaudy one-piece, and Peck found himself bristling instinctively upon the revelation. In his experience, nothing good ever arose from civilians gallivanting amongst the undead in jumpsuits. He spat a mouthful of gravel out, pushing his palms flat and dislodging himself from the ground gradually. As he rose, he shook the woman's grip. His eyes remained suspicious pinpricks, his vision still riddled with fractals

❛ And you are? ❜ Peck's tone was acrid, trying to reassemble the figure before him through the grit in his lashes, recalibrating from his hysteria.