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Rip Hunter ([personal profile] undirected) wrote in [community profile] entrancelogs2017-07-15 11:01 am

[closed] a long time ago, we used to be friends

Who: Ray Palmer and Rip Hunter
Where: The fifth floor bar / Ray's workshop
When: July 12th (prior to the event)
Rating: R probably? Character suffering and death
Summary: Ray has refused to give up his belief that Rip can be saved. That faith comes with a high price.
The Story:

[I just want to talk, Rip. You pick the place. I won't even bring my suit.

So the message had gone. Honestly, he's tempted to ignore it regardless, to chalk it up to Ray's usual attempts to push him towards some ridiculous notion of friendship or camaraderie--but Rip's a bit too careful for that. While this could easily turn out to be more of Dr. Palmer's antics, a direct to recipient cereal delivery or lord only knows what else, there could be something more. Perhaps Raymond has put together what he considers a plan--and if so, then Rip should take the opportunity to discover just what he (and the others, potentially), have plotted.

He's in the fifth floor bar before he sends the reply to tell Raymond to meet him there. It's less used these days to be sure, which suits his purposes well enough. Moreover, he can see the single entrance clearly from the table he's seated at, meaning any element of surprise the Legends might attempt to gain is hindered from the start.

Not that he knows if they're coming; Rip simply understands the importance of planning for it. After everything, he can't accept on good faith that they'll simply leave him alone, no matter how much sense it makes.

He doesn't drink. Merely waits quietly, biding his time by glancing over the network until Ray arrives.]
shrinkage: z502 someone to love (lazyman)

[personal profile] shrinkage 2017-07-16 06:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[ for a man who struggles so consistently with his own identity, ray sure is eager to jam his ideas of it down his former captain's throat, huh?

but it's obvious that he's sleep deprived and was in the middle of building or repairing something when his gangly form hangs in the doorway to the bar. dressed for the heat of welding, he accessorizes with an apologetic smile.

Hey, Rip. This seat taken?

[ ha ha. despite being naturally cheesy, his usual cheer is forced-- which is a heck of a lot harder in person when you're sleep-deprived and overworked. when he moves closer, the bags under his eyes are more obvious. even as he sits, ray's leg bounces almost of its own accord. he's learned not to work from the coffee shop anymore for fear of darcy's locking him out of his own systems again. ]