entrancelogs | ( CLOSED ) WHO COULD BLAME US?

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( CLOSED ) WHO COULD BLAME US?

Who: Misters Hunter and Allen
Where: Second floor, pool
When: April 5
Rating: PG … Wet t-shirt contest
Summary: After being thrown into the Citadel event, Barry returns home with the belief he can break Wonderland's barriers. Rip Hunter decides Barry may be onto something stupid.
The Story:

Thick gold streaks throughout Wonderland, up the side of the mansion, across the treetops, looping through the clusters of trunks themselves. The gold phases through one wall and climbs another, rounds the stairs, shoots down and then up them, and seems to catapult everywhere and anywhere all at once.

No one might be able to get close enough to catch a mere glimpse of the fact he's not wearing his suit. Dressed in civilian gear, Barry puts his gifted converse shoes to work to see if perhaps they're the item that can see him break the barrier that's become a fixation of his own.

The Flash runs and propels himself in the direction of the beach, determined to kick up that sand in his stead. Pushing himself toward that horizon, he shoots himself toward it, burning bright golden kinetic energy behind him.

Feet kicking up the water of the ocean's surface, he pushes himself to go further and faster than before. Coming closer to that point that's always sent him swan diving, for one second Barry thinks he's going to make it one step further than before —

— And he cannon balls into the pool with a slight, unattractive yelp.

When he kicks his way up to break the surface, he thinks to himself that at least he was prepared this time. Belly flopping had hurt the week before.

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It is only by virtue of coincidence that Rip happens to be in the right place at the right time for two things to happen. The first is that he in fact sees the golden light as it shoots by him on the stairs, the force of the air displaced by Barry's movements sending his coat billowing out behind Rip as he grips the rail to keep his balance. He knows what that lightning means by virtue of his experience: a speedster is at work, and once the thought settles in, Rip races towards a very specific location.

This is the second thing, that Rip arrives at the pool a short time before Barry himself, although through different means. He only knows where to head by chance and deduction, two entirely separate conversations that spawned the question of what if in his mind.

As it turns out, the connection he'd seen between the failure of Dr. Pines' portal and Dr. Wells' complaints of puddles actually pans out. He watches in wonder as Barry suddenly appears, dropping into the water with a massive splash. It's quite an impressive build-up for what amounts to a disastrous landing, and when Barry breaks the surface, he'll be alerted to the fact that he's not alone by the sound of a lone man's clapping.

"Well done, Mr. Allen. I'd give you a seven and a half, at least." Judges are harsh in the future, aren't they? Rip walks towards the edge of the pool, though not so close that Barry would wind up splashing him when he got out. He'd much prefer to stay dry, thank you.

It was only be a matter of time before someone was in the wrong place at the wrong time (or would it be right place at the right time?) and find him in such a position. Barry has always suspected Iris would be the one to greet him when he goes for one of his restless runs, embracing one of his many fits of determination to break through Wonderland's magical barriers, but he finds himself surprised by Rip.

Letting that surprise show on his face for a moment as he quickly locates the source of clapping, he relaxes somewhat. Being in the water powers him down, and Barry's started to think perhaps being on edge and suspecting something may see history stop repeating itself with him. Hair sticking to his forehead, he runs his hand through it to incidentally muss it up and let it stand awkwardly on the top of his head.

Treading water, he wonders for a moment what to do — and then comes to the conclusion Rip Hunter isn't in the business of hurting him. For one, he's not a speedster, even though he's from the future, and two, those evil speedsters tend to take on another name, and he can't see anyone denying themselves their true name when it's as badass as "Rip Hunter".

That's not something he plans on telling Rip anytime in the near future.

"Come on, it's at least an eight. I've been practicing my underwater posing!" He throws out his arms and kicks his legs, but it's all very short-lived given Barry Allen thrives best when on dry land.

Rather than remain in the water, Barry begins to navigate his way to the side of the pool so he can pull himself up and out of it.

Rip crouches near the edge of the pool while Barry argues for a higher score, puts out his limbs as if he'd stuck the landing he'd purposefully made. It's all rather cute but obvious as avoidance, a way to put off the more serious conversation about why Barry Allen had been racing through Wonderland only to take a dive into the pool.

"As I said, Mr. Allen: judges from the future are rather harsh."

When the speedster swims towards the pool's edge Rip stands again, stepping back to allow Barry room to freely maneuver. His hands slide into his pockets, Rip quiet as he mentally goes over all he has seen and pieced together.

"Although that does make me curious: how often have you been practicing?" How many times has Barry attempted to make use of chronokinesis to try and make an escape from Wonderland, to break the barrier between universes? It has happened so many times that his trail has been noticed: puddles, although the complaint never indicated that Dr. Wells knew why.

Or perhaps he just hadn't told Rip, in the end. The man had been rather--particular about his interactions.

Once Barry's pulled himself out of the pool, he glances down at himself to discern just how sopping wet he is. His conclusion is a quick one: Very wet. His shoes feel heavy, his jeans suddenly thick and coarse, and his shirt feels like it's been stretched out.

Dragging his hand through his hair, it sticks up on all ends, giving him a look of having suffered electrocution. He looks at Rip like he's surprised at the question — or perhaps his presence — with his brows lifting a little. He knows he can distract them both by complaining how wet he is, but Barry doesn't know what his relationship with Rip is like in the future, so he opts not to be a pest as he would with Wells.

"A few months," he says, then preoccupies himself again with looking down at his feet. A puddle is beginning to form beneath him. He could let himself dry naturally, but he opts for something much quicker.

"You might want to step back." Holding out his arms, he begins to vibrate, that water sputtering everywhere as his skin and sleeves begin to dry.

"And you wind up here every time." It's surprisingly consistent, given that the general state of Wonderland seems to be chaotic and changing--and not only where Barry ends up, but that the Pines' Portal leads here as well.

Any further commentary is pre-empted, however, by Barry's warning to gain some distance. Rip does so, although it isn't until Barry starts to shake that he truly gets why. It warrants another step, but not before some of the pool water lands on Rip's coat.

"Brilliant." Not that the leather duster hasn't seen worse, but honestly, he'd prefer not to get chlorine spots on it.

More often than not, Barry doesn't mean to be distracting. He goes off on tangents because of the way his mind processes things (and he's, at times, an excitable person), but he's grateful drying himself is proving to be a distraction, albeit a possible brief one. He doesn't quite know what he's planning to say to Rip, on how he wants to spin his sudden appearance in the second floor's pool, but it bides him time.

It's the one luxury Barry Allen's not allowed to have.

"Sorry!" He pulls his arms away, no longer vibrating. It's an odd sight, his sleeves dry but the rest of himself dripping wet. So, within a flash of golden light, Barry's on the other side of the pool, wrapped up in that kinetic energy as he vibrates and comes back to where he stands before Rip, dry as anything.

Skidding back along the tiles, he stands straight before he looks Rip over. "Nice coat. Is that from the future?"

"The past, actually. 1800s." Meaning it's very old in theory, even if in fact Rip's had it for just over a decade. It's a personal item for Rip, one of the few things he's got with him from home, and again, nothing he wants decorated by chlorinated water.

So it's a very good thing that Barry's finished drying himself off on the opposite side of the pool. How considerate.

Less so than Rip. What was that Barry thought about biding time?

"You've been trying to speed your way out of Wonderland."

Barry's brows shoot right up into his hairline, mouth dropping open as he thinks to repeat 1800s. He doesn't, though. Rip successfully smacks that tangent right out from under them both.

He looks at Rip unblinkingly, feeling like time has slowed down around him without his fingers doing any of the work. He doesn't quite know why he feels as though he's been cornered, given he can phase through the corner if he so much as wishes to. Pulling at the sleeve on his other arm, he shifts on his feet, not quite able to stand still.

"Maybe," he opts for. Then his mind goes through as many possible scenarios quickly, and Barry decides to not try and outrun this particular conversation. He sighs, his entire being deflating from being so stiff and guarded. His hands slap against his sides as he shrugs. "So? It's clearly not working. I just keep swimming."

Maybe, and Rip frowns at the half-denial. No, they don't know each other well--Barry has yet to meet Rip, and Rip knows Barry as he will become--yet Rip would hope that there might be some willingness to admit the truth once directly confronted with it. Fortunately, it would seem that Mr. Allen ultimately decides to relent; that quiet sigh is signal enough, and Rip crosses his arms over his chest as the speedster admits his defeat thus far.

"Yeah, apparently that's not just you." Rip looks towards the pool, an entirely ordinary structure in appearance, and yet somehow the apparently landing place for those who would attempt to break the barriers of time or space. "A scientist here attempted to build a portal to travel through dimensions. That wound up leading here as well."

An entirely different method to the same end. It's not exactly encouraging news.

Barry looks a little surprised, brows creasing together. Sometimes the world begins to gravitate around him, with evil speedsters jumping through time and worlds to come and defeat him, take away his speed, take away any hope that he has left. It's those times where he finds himself wrapped up in his own little world, with the agendas of those who are against him at the very centre.

A part of him reprimands himself for not knowing others had been trying to push Wonderland's magic to its breaking point — but then again, it's not like all those who wish to break Wonderland advertise it.

"I thought I only ended up here because I was running on the ocean." He looks to the pool, then to the small, uneven puddles on the tiles. Perhaps if he'd changed the way he'd been running — opting to break the opposite end of Wonderland, instead of the beach — he'd know this.

"How many times did he try and do that?"

"Apparently things aren't quite that simple--or poetic." Although Rip doesn't blame Barry for attempting to break through the same spot time and again. In theory, going after a singular point multiple times would cause it to weaken, and the walls that held would eventually crumble due to repeated stress.

Not a bad notion--except since everything else seems to repair itself within an hour's time, it's not hard to picture the dimensional barriers doing the same.

"I didn't get an exact number, but apparently he'd done it often enough to feel comfortable putting an end to the attempt. He mentioned that he saw no point to keeping it active." It's sensible, perhaps, but Rip frowns as he recalls the conversation; to have a working portal of any sort would be quite an achievement, one that in theory could be improved on--yet Ford seemed ready to give up instead.

Mulling over it for a moment, Barry's not entirely sure what Rip's telling him. Give up? Keep going? Stop doing what he's doing as it's wrong? It's beginning to become difficult figuring out where he's going right, where he's gone wrong, but he figures his gut would niggle at him if what he was doing was damaging, just like it did when he stepped foot inside the Speed Force with that night in 2000 in sight.

Hand reaching to scratch at the back of his neck, he lets his arms slap against his sides. "I'm not going to give up," he says, shaking his head. "If you're here to tell me that, then you're wasting your time. I'm not going to stop trying to find a way out of here. I need to get us out of here."

"Oh, not at all, Mr. Allen. To the contrary, it's that determination I was rather hoping to find."

Particularly when confronted by news of a similar attempt with seemingly similar results--or at the very least, the same final destination. There are a great number of people who seem willing to settle within Wonderland, many of them with perfectly valid and understandable reasons. Yet Rip refuses to be one of their number, thus it's a comfort to know that Barry equally won't.

"Although I'm curious; this attempt of yours seems to be something of a solo effort." There haven't been any Star Lab scientists rushing in to take in the data, after all. And with apparent predictability of where Barry will end up each time, it seems a rather perfect place to observe the phenomena and figure out what details they could from the breech in space-time. "Seems strange that you wouldn't be taking advantage of their knowledge."

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( CLOSED ) WHO COULD BLAME US?

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