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

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[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.]

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[ 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. ]

[Nauseatingly eager, one might say.

Ray walks in, and as promised, appears to be wearing nothing more than ordinary clothes. Of course that doesn't mean he doesn't have the supersuit on him—but Ray's equally not the type to pull off deception well. It's likely he's kept his word.

He casts a flat look towards the other man when he offers that cliché little quip; they both know why they're there. Yet that nod towards Ray's typical bubbliness doesn't seem to come so naturally. Rip takes in the dark circles and jittery movements. Seems Ray is doing quite an effective job at pushing himself too far with too little care taken.

Which, ultimately, is closer to an advantage for Rip than it is a problem.]

What did you wish to discuss, Dr. Palmer? [Yet he's no more eager to remain in the man's company because of it; Rip merely agreed to determine just what Ray is up to, and nothing more.]

Edited 2017-07-20 18:59 (UTC)

[ ray's always been just this side of too big for the world. but he had the choice to either let his discomfort ruin his day, or take life as it came and shove himself squarely into this chair and smile like it's not totally inconvenient and annoying.

his knees only bump into it twice before he gets them corralled. ]

I just wanted to see how you're doing. I know how it can be, going home and coming back. Minus the-- [ brainwashing ] --adjustments. I've been home like three times, now? It's kind of a rush.

...It's been a month, Dr. Palmer. More than long enough for any rush to have worn off.

[Has the man truly lost track of time to such a degree? To not realize the span of time that has passed, right down to the day, since Rip returned to Wonderland. Rip frowns at Ray; he's hardly interested in rehashing old conversations.

Something which the man across from his should be well aware of by this point.]

Has it? Technically there's no way to prove that time exists here at all, especially with the whole nobody ages thing. Which is pretty cool when you think about it, you know? You perceive time as moving based on maybe how many nights you sleep or events that pass, sure, but aging's inhibited and biological cycles cease...

[ is it, ray? must be, considering how he's ramping up on a ramble... ]

Not to mention I'm never sure what to tell people about how long I've been in Wonderland. Do I add cumulative "time" spent here based on the cycles I can count so it's just one year, three months, eight days or do I also add time I spent at home since it adds a year or so on the Waverider not to mention those months I was alone in the Cretaceous after you saved my life.

[ ray doesn't do nonchalance but he does do poorly acted nonchalance. these are his innocent eyes. let him bat them at you, cap. er. ex-cap. ]

[All rambling aside, funnily enough Rip does appreciate the observations. So Raymond has his own notions about time, or lack thereof within the walls of this dimension. It's something Rip's considered himself--had to, when brainstorming potential ways to escape Wonderland. And for so many the same reasons: perceptions may say time goes on, but they don't age, and it's clear that they're removed from their normal time anyway--

All of which Rip might have said, except Ray is still talking, the words rapid and unceasing right up until the all too predictable reminder of something good and decent Rip had done once upon a time, and honestly. It's all Rip can do not to roll his eyes.]

Very subtle, Doctor Palmer. [Perhaps he should have ordered a drink after all.] I haven't forgotten any of what transpired, you realize. I remember sending you all about through time perfectly.

[And nearly getting himself killed to protect the Spear after.]

[ yeeeah. he doesn't look too ashamed about being caught. in fact, ray smiles at that and tries a little backtracking. ]

So that probably means you have some theories on time in Wonderland yourself, right? The idea of normal being a pretense itself, here?

[He raises an eyebrow as he considers the man across from him. Raymond has been entirely consistent in his ultimate goal--which is why even a topic of potential interest has Rip suspicious.]

Are you honestly concerned with my answer, or are you hoping that by sharing a theory or two, I might feel some spark of kinship with you?

Well. [ ray shrugs, that smile lingering beneath an unflinching stare. ] By your account, we'll never be friends. So ... what do you have to lose?

...The time I likely only have due to the human perception of its passage.

[Was...was that a joke? From Rip? Certainly he'll never tell--or make any attempts at humor again if Ray suddenly starts to gush, so tread carefully Dr. Palmer.]

And you can't lose something you never had. [ only ray can put that much shine on something that sounds so awful. ] C'mon, you want to get out still, right?

[He's entirely too smug about it as well, for the record.]

Of course. [When the alternative is to remain trapped in an interdimensional prison where time doesn't move and their memories are toyed with, Rip's choice is obvious.

Equally? So is Ray's as of yet unspoken suggestion.] And you want to pool resources.

[ he nods. ray has been here before, sort of. and if he could find even the barest of faith in the motivations of someone like thawne... how could he deny that trust from rip and still look him in the face as a friend? he's talked about the way they barely support each other on the waverider before. he wants to be better, he's said as much.

it was the argument he hadn't been able to articulate to sarah when she suggested asking the mightiest of the mansion bear down on rip en masse.

if he doesn't exercise compassion and faith against the odds now, he's just agreeing with rip that they lack value. maybe he's just got a point to make now. maybe this is just another hill for his ego to die on, but he can't see it that way. what if they could avoid another chronos? ]

When it comes to time, there's not really a better expert in Wonderland that I trust than you.

[He silent for some time after that; such might be expected from Rip, who spends so much of his time in quiet calculation, who even before his "transformation" at the hands of Eobard Thawne would still take the burden of the hardest choices onto his own shoulders first before sharing them with the team. Yet that silence shouldn't be seen as a bad thing. If Rip weren't at least considering some aspect of Ray's offer, surely he would have already rejected the man outright, yes?

But the question is, just what does Rip spend his time mulling over.

He's wanted to know what Raymond is up to. Truth is, he quietly loathes the thought of working with any of them, his former team, the Legends. But just as Rip is an expert on time, Ray is one in his own fields. More than once he'd proven himself quick to understand the mechanics of concepts from far beyond his own time. There's no denying that Ray could be quite a valuable resource.]

Show me what you've been working on, then. [In his optimistic zeal Ray would likely take that as acceptance. The assumption that Dr. Palmer has been up to something is evident from the man's paradoxical signs of anxious jitters and well-worn fatigue. Rip wants to know what that is, and this is the easiest way.

Even if, best case scenario, he plans to contribute as little as possible and take advantage of the man's research for himself.]

[ the silence feels different than it usually does. ray had learned (albeit slowly) that rip could make silence a tool. eventually, he had even found comfort in it. he could find the spaces between the loud clanging of metal that followed him around, and that sounded like music coming from jax. spaces that sara and kendra filled with the staccato of sparring or that the rogues filled with the clink of glass and slap of cards.

and there was rip. an oasis of sorts, once ray learned how to get there. his office would offer companionable quiet once ray reached his rare threshold of sensory input and he needed a break. sure, more often than not rip was brooding or otherwise losing himself in his thoughts. and yes more than half the time ray would be stared down until he left but--

this. this just feels like an abyss. ]

What-- now? [ ray blurts it out against the pit in his gut and then trips over himself to course-correct. ] I mean, yeah. Yeah. I'm kind of working on a bunch of projects, and I'm not Stein levels of theory loving, but--

[ he forces himself to shut the hell up, and just nods. ]

I'm ready when you are.

Now. [He offers up quietly; unless you have something to hide goes unspoken, but perhaps still read in the calm way Rip stares at Ray. Unsurprisingly the man rambles on at first, stumbling over affirmation and downplaying to quell any expectations Rip might have—

Until some better spark of sense manages to ignite in Ray's brain, and the seemingly ceaseless flow of words comes to an end. How miraculous.]

Then I see no reason why we shouldn't be off. [Rip pushes back in his chair and stands. They won't have to travel far to go down to Ray's workshop, yet even knowing the way there, Rip motions for Ray to proceed first.]

After you, Dr. Palmer.

[ it's an awkward trek to the workshop which means that while it's actually short, it feels nearly endless to ray.

inside the large room are sections devoted to different projects. a transparent digital bulletin board in one corner takes copious cues from the design on the waverider, various dummies in scaling levels of completeness in another corner. worktables in different states of disarray are covered in parts and gadgets and devices. another clear indicator that ray burns the candle at both ends, and isn't quite as tidy as he usually is about it all. ray dives right in, for fear of losing rip's interest. ]

I'm still getting things back together after Chronos' little hissy fit, so-- sorry for the mess. [ he cuts past a few work tables toward a station with more hefty systems attached. on this table is the making of nanotech-- and if rip pays closer attention it's likely obvious that gideon has been working on it too. ] After my design of the Kord quantum manifold didn't work correctly, I spent a lot of time figuring out where I went wrong. As it turns out, I didn't. It was perfect.

[ he pulls up files and schematics and too much information to show that he'd been collecting data on everything since then. ]

And once I started looking into everything else, it seemed perfectly normal. Like-- too normal. There's no evidence of any kind of deviation, even where you'd expect there to be. And as far as the existence of time goes, I've observed what seems to be all the usual markers of time in our world here.

[A mess though it may be, the sum total of the effort represented within remains impressive. It would seem that Ray has indeed been busy, and Rip takes it all in slowly; he needs to gather as much information as he can; he won't assume that this "collaboration" will last beyond this single encounter, thus this is his best chance to learn just what progress the man has made--and in which areas.

There clearly are a variety of them.

Ray takes a steady path in one direction, but Rip seems more content to take his time. While he listens as the man dives in, talking of quantum manifolds and lack of deviations, his gaze roams the various tables and shelves and displays. Even in a place where time likely doesn't exist, their needs as humans still do. With all Ray has accomplished, even having been within Wonderland for so long as he has, Rip suspects the man to be pushing himself beyond his limits--particularly if, as he implies, most of this came about after Chronos' attack.]

Something a bit more complex than the days conforming to a 24 hour cycle, I expect. [Anyone can observe as much, given a clock and a functioning set of eyes. In truth Rip merely throws the statement out to keep Ray talking; for once, it works in his favor. Particularly when at one table, he spies an object that's all too familiar: a black wristband with gold-colored circuitry visible on the surface, and an ominous red button prominent in its center.

The sort of thing with no outward indication of it's purpose--unless someone is already familiar with it's use.

He picks up the band with tight grin. If Dr. Palmer has the safety device that accompanies a cognitive intrusion machine, then no doubt the rest of the device is around. And there is it--the incontrovertible proof of the man's true intentions.]

Oh, Doctor Palmer. [He sighs out the man's name, turning to fix him with a look.]

[ he's rambling away still, over-caffeinated and nervous. he starts to talk about running basic experiments and their mixed results-- photons and chromatographs and quartz crystals, oh my!

and he would keep right on going if rip's tone didn't shift so drastically. the anxious grin on his face remains but quickly begins to fade as he turns and registers what rip's got in his hand. he swallows hard, realizing he'd forgotten they were assessing the reliability of the rescue bracelets within the parameters of wonderland. he'd shrunk the machine itself and tucked it away. ]

It's not what you think.

Then by all means; explain to me what this is.

[He tosses the bracelet in Ray's direction, but only as means of distraction. The man would be a fool not to keep some manner of weapon nearby, so Rip acts first, with all the speed one might expect of a man well-practiced in the art of the quickdraw. As the band flies towards the air he pulls his revolver, quick and sure as he fires a blast towards Ray's gut. It would be enough to incapacitate the man easily, just as it had Charles and Nate before him.]

[ the saddest thing is that ray had actually started to throw his hands up before he hit the floor. he'd bought his own pitch.

an arrow to the chest-- well, he can't say that had been painless. but it hadn't hurt immediately, and it'd sent him into unconsciousness astoundingly quickly. these days, he so often tromps around with indestructible armor strapped to his body that maybe he'd just forgotten he wasn't quite so indestructible. now the only thought for the suit he has is gratitude that it's currently hanging around sarah's neck.

it takes him awhile to speak, pushing up to his elbows and holding his stomach and breathing too heavily. ]

Rip... you don't want to do this. Think about it, it's not like home.

[The wristband falls forgotten, right along with Ray as he crumples to the ground. It gives Rip a few moments to take another look around the lab, this time for something a bit more specific. He knows what a cognitive intrusion device looks like; though he'd never made use of it, the equipment has all been aboard the Waverider, since long before he made the mistake of inviting the Legends aboard his ship. It's not something easily hidden, and when Rip sees no sign of the chairs, he gives his attention back to Ray.

Though likely not in the manner the man hopes.]

What I want, Dr. Palmer, is the location of the cognitive intrusion machine. [His steps are steady as he makes his way over to the man, deliberate and loud. He wants Ray to know he's coming; equally, he wants the man to see the gun he's still got in his hand.]

Where have you hidden it?

[ the adrenaline's only going to last so long. ray tries to brace against the pain and scramble toward one of the workstations before rip's footsteps bring him into view. ]

Ah, that. Sure, yeah it's uhh, oh man. [ he grits his teeth and scoots under a desk, burning ripping through his abdomen. contrasting his casual words, he can't hide the straining in his voice. ] Where did I put that thing? Darn this mess...

[Darn this mess, Raymond says, and Rip lets out an annoyed sigh at the man's attempt to stall. He's got little doubt that there's some weapon the man to means to employ, if only he might be able to reach it--which leaves it to Rip to ensure Ray doesn't. He turns a corner just after Ray manages to crawl his way under a desk; in some ways, it's not so different than hunting Jax down in the Waverider had been.

And in that case, there had been one very specific means that left Rip finding his desired ends.]

If you won't tell me, then I'll have no choice but to ask someone else. [He's careful as he approaches the desks now; leaning this way and that, crouching as he needs to in order to look under the workstations, but always with his guard up.] Someone you care about; someone you trust.

Someone who would tell me absolutely anything I wanted to know, if only for the hope that it might save the man she loves.

[ the door to the room ray shares with sarah slams shut, thick hunks of metal thudding into place and locking. ]

Funny thing about that, actually.

[ he can't help the fear and pain in his labored voice, but he can still sound like an absolute dickhead. the burning sensation in his belly has been intensifying, and he's started to lose feeling in his arm -- he's pretty sure shock is going to set in at any minute. but he'd spent a long time in a world where 'little shit' was a native tongue. ]

You're kinda predictable. She's already sure you'll kill me. Guess I owe her dinner, now.

[His attention turns towards the sound, of course. Clever, although only a temporary measure. Still, credit where it is due; Ray has managed to keep Rip from his goal for now.]

You'll owe her a fair deal more than that, I'm afraid. If I kill you now, that gives me two days.

[He reaches the workstation where Ray's voice seems to come from. Carefully, because he thinks of Jax, all those traps he set aboard the Waverider, Rip kneels down, gun aimed and ready to fire at the first hint of further cleverness on Ray's part.]

Tell me, Dr. Palmer; were you with the party that found Dr. Mid-Nite in the year 3000?

[ the keyboard he'd used slides off of ray's lap, his only intention for it now complete. he tries not to panic, but the adrenaline's wearing off and he's got no more plan. he'd hoped to strike something good left in rip.

maybe he'd just been going about it the wrong way. ]

You know what? Go ahead and do your best Savage impression. But I think you'll find Sarah actually fights back.

[He lets out a huff of laughter then; oh, but that is something new: comparing Rip to Vandal Savage, of all people.

Unfortunately, Rip doesn't seem to be too swayed by the tactic. If Ray is expecting Rip to be shocked from his current path, he'll be quite disappointed.]

Because she has your ATOM suit, correct? [It's a guess, but a reasonable enough one, he suspects. If Rip truly is as predictable as claimed, then Ray would want to protect the one he cares for most.

It's admirable--and equally, futile.]

Which I've already disabled before. [Leaving Ray helplessly small, unable to do much more than run through the vents of the Waverider.] Do you truly wish to take the chance that I won't be able to do so again?

Do you want the weight of her suffering and her death to be on your shoulders--just like Anna's?

[ he'd hoped for the miranda slight to land harder, and he can't help but flinch at rip's guess. he has no response to it, only a sullen glare that turns into a pained snarl when anna's name comes out of his mouth. ]

Shut up.

[ his vision blurs, and ray blinks hard against it. ]

You're not that stupid. Kill me, the mansion won't blink. You so much as look at her wrong...

[ ray's not the only one who loves her. ]

And you'll still never forgive yourself.

[Rip's already begun digging his own grave; the Legends will no doubt see Rip's actions as provocation, never mind that Ray had been the one to somehow procure a device designed to purposely invade and manipulate the mind of another. He knows as much, which is why he focuses no on his own fate should Sarah come to harm, but Ray's.]

Because you'll have done everything in your power to save her and failed--except for the one thing that would have made a difference, that you could have done all along. Now, you may think you know what it means to live with that kind of burden, but trust me, Ray.

[The man who had his choice of the whole of history to find heroes to help. The man who knew all along when the fragments of the Spear had been hidden, and how to find them.

The man who in the end, chose principles over his family.]

You have no idea.

So don't give me reason to use her against you. Just tell me where the device is, and this can end here and now.

[ he's so angry, but ray can't tell if he's shaking from blood loss or emotion. he reminds himself: sarah's surrounded by her family. she's friends with vampires, and devils, and mages. she's argued with mad scientists and none of it comes close to the childhood she'd endured.

he coughs and tastes blood, the sharp tear of pain making him clutch his stomach again. ]

Fine. [ he breathes heavy, and coughs again. his voice drops out for a moment, as he tries to say the location. ] ...underneath.

[Angry, powerless, dying: in the end Rip doesn't care. The only thing that matters is the location of the CI machine, which Ray seems at last willing to give up. Unfortunately, he's a bit far gone at this point. Rip sighs in a quiet moment of frustration, then reaches a hand out to slap Ray's cheek.]

Don't go drifting off on me quite yet, Dr. Palmer. [Drifting off, as if it's something so harmless facing him now.] Underneath what?

[ he doesn't have the energy to flinch from the touch. ray does stumble over his words a little more, struggling to find the right one. ]

It's below-- [ he shakes his head and finally seems to find rip's eyes. ] You know. Where the sun don't shine.

[…Really, Raymond?

Rip looks anything but amused as Ray offers up his answer. Given the man hadn't been able to stop Rip's insistent tapping, no doubt he'll be unable to move his body properly either. There's no choice to it then; he sets the gun down, outside of Dr. Palmer's reach, then grips the man's waist to turn him over, uncovering the floor space beneath where Ray had been laying.

None of this is done gently; unsurprisingly, Rip isn't concerned with Ray's pain.]

[ he can't yelp anymore, and so just groans in pain. it hurts. everything hurts. well, except for his numbed arm. that just feels cold, now.

in spite of the pain and the lack of feeling, ray starts to chuckle. the blood backing up into his body gurgles as he's tipped unceremoniously over. he never liked jackson pollock much. he spits, and keeps laughing as shock starts to take him over. ]

Guess Thawne removed your sense of humor too, huh?

[He scoffs, releasing Ray to fall to the floor once more.]

Or perhaps I was hoping your stubborn pride wouldn't outweigh your better judgement.

[All the more foolish, he supposes, for assuming Ray might make the smarter choice for once. He picks up his gun and stands once more; it likely won't be long before Ray actually does bleed out, but Rip does have one more question to ask before he goes tearing about the workshop.]

Do you really think you've accomplished anything by this?

Well I got-- [ he chuckles again until he starts to cough. he keeps getting quieter. quieter, still. ] --got you to hope.

[Ever the optimist—and equally, ever the fool.

Rip leaves Ray then. Expecting the man too far gone to be able to do anything of consequence, he devotes his time to tearing the workshop apart. He means to find the cognitive intrusion device, and Rip isn't gentle as he goes about it. Whatever progress Ray has made, even in areas where Rip has an interest, Rip means to shatter.

His frustration only mounts with each minute that goes by, and the device still left unlocated and in play. Unfortunately his luck doesn't change for the better before too much time passes, and Rip is forced to vacate the room.

What started off as an annoyingly redundant conversation has turned into something far more vexing by the time Rip walks away.]

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

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