neverstudied | Victory Road IC Inbox

[He shakes his head, looking more awake by the second.]

Nah- 'm not gonna get back to sleep for a while now. Too much adrenaline. What's going on?

[Egon looks thoughtful for a moment.]

Well, I found a type of lichen clinging to the walls of this cave that I have been unable to identify thus far. I believe it may be a species native to this dimension. I also found a large repository of moon rocks--I believe the Pokémon that live in these caves have been stockpiling them.

[He rubs the back of his neck, allowing his eyes to wander everywhere except Venkman.]

Among other things.

[Venkman stares blankly at Egon for a bit.]

You scared the shit outta me for moss.

[He doesn't dwell on that, though- jokes aside, he's pretty sure Egon actually has something important on his mind for once, and like hell is he gonna waste that opportunity.]

What other things?

Lichen isn't moss, technically.

[Another pause. Egon's posture shifts slightly. He's very dangerously still on the fringes of clamming up and discarding this conversation entirely, like he'd been taught in the past, but it's already begun.

Besides. He doesn't entirely understand why, but he feels the odd need to share his thoughts on the matter. Maybe it's the confusing nature of it all. Perhaps another person would be able to make more sense of it.]

I'm not entirely sure I would be able to quantify it in precise terms. But if you'd be willing to be patient, I could attempt to do so.

[Hm.

He nods slowly, gears already turning in his head as he tries to figure out what this could be.]

Yeah. Of course. ... Maybe we oughta move away from the tent, though. Don't wanna wake the sleeping beauties with impromptu psychological counseling.

[Egon nods, offering Venkman a hand to help him up. He remains silent until they're a good distance away from the tents before speaking, and even then, his voice remains sotto.]

It--It probably isn't particularly important. [He visibly hesitates.] I was preoccupied with how almost everything I do now is a direct violation of expectations placed upon me since birth.

[It appears to take a lot of effort just to say these few words. Saying it out loud just makes it sound even more silly. He hasn't thought about or worried about his parents for years, even after he arrived here and had an unknown entity insist on calling herself "mom".]

Not that it bothers me.

[It's hard to tell whether or not he's being truthful here.]

[Venkman takes the offered hand, and deliberately doesn't let go of it, even when they settle down. He stares at the tents and listens closely, both to what Egon says and what he doesn't say- both equally important with him.

Egon may not think of his parents much, but Venkman does. He vividly remembers every unpleasant meeting he's had with the elder Spenglers, and one of the many reliefs of this dimension- at least in Venkman's eyes- is that Egon'll probably never see them again. It sounds callous. It is a little callous. Venkman doesn't mind.]

Which expectations?

[He knows, mostly. But again, having Egon willing to talk about this is a rarity- Venkman's not talking over him, if he can help it.]

Oh, following what they would consider to be a respectable scientific career, focusing solely on my experiments and research, marrying a woman who is equally detached in her work, winning several notable prizes celebrating my accomplishments and my efforts to forward scientific knowledge. [A pause.] Which I have. Forget about the last part.

[He lists them off as if he were merely reading from a list of groceries or the ingredients on the back of a box. Idly, he traces circles with his thumb on the back of Venkman's hand.]

Needless to say, I would have likely been cast out from the Spengler family, had they not been so obsessed with familial pride and keeping up appearances. And if I didn't take it upon myself to become a polymath.

[He has half an impulse to clam up and dismiss the rest of this line of questioning, as he normally treats these kinds of conversations--but he knows that it'll likely cause Venkman to be upset and only continue prodding him for information even harder.]

[It would indeed, and Venkman is grateful for Egon restraining that impulse, since otherwise he'd be up half the night trying to pry Egon's feelings out of him.]

Is there something that sparked this train of thought tonight, or did you just kinda start thinking about it out of nowhere?

[There's a significant pause before Egon slowly replies.]

It wasn't prompted by anything relevant. The mind tends to wander.

[He doesn't meet Venkman's eyes, however.]

Ah-huh.

What else did your mind wander to tonight?

[Not outright accusing him of lying, but the implication is there. Though Venkman'll accept it if Egon tells him the truth and continues to pretend the two thoughts are unrelated.]

[Another pause.]

Well, mostly about what specific circumstances allowed the unidentified lichen to thrive in this environment as opposed to others.

[Which is actually true.]

I considered several factors--hostile environment, proximity to other organisms, favorable resources. So on and so forth.

....

I supposed it might have led me to consider what circumstances allowed me to be here with Ray, Winston, and you.

[Venkman is almost about to make an irritated comment dismissing the lichen before Egon returns to the actual heart of the matter. He nods, hoping that'll be enough to prod Egon into continuing.]

[It takes a while for Egon to muster up the words to really convey how he's feeling, and even as he speaks, it's clear that he's struggling to tell more than he has to.]

Thinking about what might have happened--what I may have become as a result of external factors--leaves me...unsettled, to say the least.

[...

Egon lets out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. He looks--and sounds--frustrated.]

This is silly. These are all things that have already happened, and thus I should not bother myself with thinking about them.

[Immediately:]

It's not silly. It's human.

[Though the terms are far from mutually exclusive. His grip on Egon's hand had begun to slacken, but now he squeezes Egon's hand in his own.]

... You know I think about the same things more than I probably should. But it's not a wrong thing to do. Even if there's nothing we can do to change what made us who we are. Looking back at why we do certain things, it's important.

What're you unsettled about in particular?

[Egon gently squeezes Venkman's hand back, though he still looks somewhat perturbed.]

I believe it is a combination of factors. In another lifetime, I may have been able to accomplish much more had I not been "distracted" in my studies.

[Throughout all this, despite the subject at hand, Egon has maintained his clinical and dry-cut speech patterns. Whether or not he's doing this out of reflex or to shield his own emotions is...uncertain. But when he says "distracted", there's a hint of underlying venom that accompanies the word.]

And yet I find myself, for the lack of a better word, enjoying my current endeavors much more than if I had maintained my prior trajectory. But prioritizing happiness over scientific merit is-- [....] --it is something I have...been taught to look down upon for quite some time.

I know, man. But- y'know, fuck that. Fuck that and everyone who taught you otherwise. You deserve to be happy now, with your studies, parapsychology, all the shit you and Ray design and build, in this dimension, with- us.

[His voice falters slightly on the last word, but he recovers quickly.]

In another lifetime- probably thousands of lifetimes- I never grew outta being a shitty frat jock. And in another lifetime, you coulda been a carbon copy of your dad. But neither of those are us now.

[Egon notices that hitch in Venkman's sentence, and he raises an eyebrow ever so slightly. He meets Venkman's eyes for a moment, but doesn't address it.

He seems to tense slightly at the mention of his father, but, again, doesn't address it.]

I suppose you're right.

[Though there's definite hesitation behind his words.]

It just feels...odd.

...

Us?

Believe me, I get it. I-

[Ah, hell.

Venkman hesitates before answering, attempting to sound nonchalant while choosing each word carefully.]

... I know you'd prefer to be with the "us" from your dimension, that's all. I'm- sorry you can't have that.

[Egon just stares at Venkman for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing together.]

What? I never expressed that sentiment before. Nor was I thinking about it. I've come to accept and appreciate this dimension as it is.

[His tone isn't derisive, but it's not...friendly, either. Maybe it's from the tension from earlier.]

Is this related to your earlier issues?

[It's not accusatory, but if Venkman takes it as such....]

[Venkman visibly flinches at that, and he lets go of Egon's hand without thinking.]

Yeah. My issues, sorry. My bad for bringing them up.

[He grimaces, and doesn't quite meet Egon's eyes again.]

Anyway, my point was that you're doing a hell of a lot better than you could be. No matter what your family and upbringing might say.

[His tone is somewhat more brusque than before, though he still means every word.]

[Egon blinks, a little startled. He knows he's done something, but it takes a moment or two before he realizes what he's done.]

I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to--to imply--

[God, he sucks at doing this. He feels like he was just thrown off a helicopter into the middle of the ocean and left to tread water.]

I'm sorry.

[A little too sharply:]

It's fine. ... [He exhales slowly, and his tone evens out.] It's fine, Spengler. You didn't- I know you didn't mean anything by it.

[And he does know that, he's had years to get used to it, but fuck if it isn't difficult to deal with at times.]

I thought, with you being worried about Winston when he first got here- whatever. I was wrong.

[Egon lapses into silence, not willing to push the matter immediately. He knits his hands together, staring into the darkness that seems to stretch on for miles in the cave.

After a few moments, he quietly says:]

Do you remember when we finally met each other at the Goldenrod train station?

[He's going somewhere with this, just...yeah.]

[Venkman blinks, startled, before narrowing his eyes.]

... Yeah. 'Course I do. Why?

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