the hyperfixation has me by the throat and so through the power of autism and peer pressure I present Phoenix, a few jokes about my Spirits Unleashed character that became an oc by complete accident.
more info below the cut :]
His name is Phoenix because that's my steam handle and that's how this started out lol
He's the son of Rookie from the Ghostbusters video game, and the general gist is after the destruction of the Shandorian Mandala, Rookie took some time off and came back to a very tense firehouse, as Egon starts to get 'spooky' a la pre-afterlife. With Peter's blessing, he takes off to England to start up a Ghostbusters offshoot there, and due to some nebulous circumstances has a child, who he raises with minimal interaction with the other Ghostbusters - not on purpose, they're all just busy and awkward with each other since Egon left.
Cue the events of Afterlife, and off in England, Rookie goes out on a bust and doesn't come back. His ghost leaves a letter for Pheo, his son, telling him to find Ray in New York and personally hand him the rest of the letter... So Pheo does. Rookie was claircognizant, and the letter turns out to be some ominous premonitions about an 'eternal darkness' and an 'evil spirit' and whatnot. Ray and Winston take Pheo in under their new apprenticeship program, as in the events of Spirits Unleashed, and, having inherited his dad's claircognizance and 'sensitivity' to the spirit world, he very quickly starts becoming an occult scholar like his uncle Ray, happy to live with Ray in the apartment above his bookshop with free access to all the cool stuff in the shop below. As in the game, Samhain escapes just like Rookie predicted in his letter, but Pheo saves the day, yada yada more game events.
There's a lot more but that's the basic plotline, anyway. I thought I'd give at least a little bit of context before I start posting stuff, as well as a VERY rough character sheet :]
This is actually the first oneshot in my Google doc and it was NOT beta read, so, have fun?
Weep, Little Lion Man
Ray had always considered himself good with children. Sure, he thought most of them were inconsiderate yuppies, but he had the talent of being able to ignore that in favour of the few kids that he actually liked.
So when Rookie called one July afternoon (the 5th, as it was every other month), a dark-haired, dark-eyed toddler in the crook of his arm, Ray made the appropriate cooing noises and tried to ignore the screaming voice in the back of his head that yelled 'SINCE WHEN DID ROOKIE HAVE A KID?!' over and over again. When they called again in September, and Rookie had to step away because of the screaming in the background, Ray suggested he set the kid down in front of the camera and take a nap, while Ray dealt with the toddler. Within five minutes, Rookie was conked out on the sofa and the kid was giggling along with him as he read one of the sillier folk tales from his books.
When their calls went from every other month to every other year, Ray mourned the loss of that bright, giggly minx. He watched Rookie's kid go from a happy toddler to a pensive, brooding child, who Knew things he shouldn't, as much as Rookie tried to shelter him from it. Often, the child would sit cross-legged in front of the camera, silent until his father left the room, where he would whisper to Ray about the things he saw and felt, about the children at school, and what they did behind his back. Ray would nod and hum sympathetically and hold back the urge to make the child tell his dad.
One year, Ray was so caught up in his bookshop, busying himself to drown out his thoughts, that he missed Rookie's call. The next year, Rookie didn't bother, so Ray didn't either.
And then, one July afternoon some years later, a dark-haired, dark-eyed almost-man showed up at his bookstore, and Ray thanked whatever deities were out there for his second chance. The thoughtful, brooding child was so close to being an anxious, headstrong man, but as Ray gathered him close, tears soaking his cardigan, all he could see was that little boy sobbing in his father's arms after a 'nightmare', and he also thanked those same deities that he was as good with children as he was. Who else would be there for the kid if not him?
(And if he, too, cried when Pheo called him 'Uncle Ray' for the first time in 10 years, then that was his business, and his alone.)
