entrancelogs | just look at the state of you, babe.

Who: Caitlin Snow + Dorian Pavus; Caitlin + friends; Caitlin + YOU!
Where: Gardens, Library, Kitchen, Dining Room, Tea Room, etc
When: June 13 and beyond
Rating: PG-13; just to be safe, there may be intense imagery.
Summary: An already broken Caitlin arrives in Wonderland and is saddled with dealing with it and her baggage.
The Story:

june 13; arrival ( closed to dorian pavus )

[ She has to keep running.

It's the singular thought keeping her upright, keeping her awake. She has to warn them, she has to find the friends she has left, before Jay finds her. Caitlin's sure this is a trick; a cruel joke to punish her for warning the police a few nights ago. (Of course, telling her Barry's dead could have been a trick and a punishment too, but it would go against him saying he couldn't hurt her. An almost promise that's now broken because she left.) But even if it's a trick, she has to keep going. She can see the ruined spires of STAR Labs in the distance, even in the dark, and she's so close, so close...

And then the world becomes blindingly bright and markedly less ... urban. ] No.

[ There's hedges and a fountain and flowers everywhere. It isn't right. No, this isn't where she was a moment ago. She turns on the spot, squinting in the bright light, searching for ... something. They didn't miss any breaches. Did Zoom have someone else who could open them? ... no, if he did, he would have come after Barry sooner.

Her breath comes in heaves and pants, bordering on hyperventilating, something more than just being winded. Her clothes are dirty, looking as if she's worn them for a week or more. Her hair is dirty and knotted, her face drawn and streaked with dirt and the trail of dried tears. When her legs start to shake, she gracelessly sits right where she is, flopping down before drawing her legs tight to her chest.

Apologies to whoever finds her. ]

june 13-15

[ This space reserved for cast/canonverse mates. Will fill in once deets are sorted. ]

june 13; post-arrival thread ( closed to iris west )

[ It's a time-honored cliche, that doctors make for the worst patients. It certainly isn't an absolute, and it isn't even really a fair majority that it applies to. But being a cliche didn't make it not true. And for Caitlin, it's incredibly, borderline painfully true.

It isn't that she tries to be difficult. She's had to handle her own share of difficult patients, she knows first-hand how it can fray someone's nerves and rattle a less-secure professional, even how it can sometimes become a distraction. Every difficult patient has an excuse for why they behave the way they do, it's just that hers is real and true.

It's why she's making her way out of the clinic as soon as the initial exam is over. Dehydrated, malnourished, sleep deprived — she doesn't really need someone else to tell her these things. She's acutely aware of them, the dangers they pose. That she should stay and lay down. There isn't time for this. There has to be some way out of here, there just has to be.

As she steps out into the hall, her eyes go wide and she looks like she's been struck. ] Iris?

june 16 and beyond ( open )

[ It takes a few days to coax Caitlin out from beyond the relative safety of familiar faces, their rooms, and hers.

She's struggling, sometimes visibly, with adjusting. There's moments where she feels on the verge of panic and nearly seeks out a secluded space to fall apart and calm herself down in peace. Then there's moments where she's perfectly fine, almost happy (but never quite), where she feels closer to normal. Even then, there's something about her eyes that gives away what's just beneath the surface: they're too wide, they track every movement around her. There's a sheen of fear hiding in them.

It's not all terrible. The library quickly becomes a place to find her regularly. If she has to be away from the safety of friends, then she'll choose the second best option, the safety and familiarity of books. Too much solitude, though, leads to too much thinking, which leads to slipping back into that terrified place. It's touch and go, really.

She also avails herself to the kitchen, sometimes at odd hours of the night. Cooking for herself is such a routine part of her life, so it helps with regaining her footing. Sometimes, she's lazy and opts for the dining room or the tea rooms, though it still feels odd to have food and drinks come out of thin air. (She tries not to think about it.) ]

[ want a specific location not listed? feel free to ask through PM or at

lovedbythesun ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I do, though.

[ Caitlin catches on that he's teasing, he's joking. She's been friends with Cisco long enough to get a feel for these things. For when someone's pulling her leg, whether it's gently or roughly.

She slathers butter on her pancakes before dousing them in a generous amount of syrup. In truth, she should probably be taking it easier with what she eats, after going a week or so without anything before coming here. Taking a bite, she pauses to savor it before continuing her thought. ]

And I always pay my debts.

[ For such a late evening, he appreciates whatever conversation he can get, so even this light, minimal teasing is fun and appreciated and reminds him of home and long days spent with his team. ]

You have integrity. Good.

[ When it comes to cooking, at least. Though he suspects she really does. ]

So being up this late - does that happen a lot for you?

[ She stalls on answering right away, taking another bite and chewing thoughtfully. Confronting why she's up this late, why she doesn't sleep, is something she avoids. ]

Lately? [ Her head waggles side to side. ] Yeah, it's pretty often. It's not always easy to turn your mind off, if you get what I mean.

[ And how much she wishes there was a switch for that thing. She sets to cutting her pancakes into bites. ]

What about you? A night owl or just a special occasion tonight?

[ The hardest thing is when your body is exhausted but your mind just won't catch up to that fact. It won't shut down. It throws everything into chaos. ]

Yeah. I do.

[ There are all sorts of remedies these days for insomnia, and he should probably actually bother trying some of them though he hates the idea of sleeping pills and the like. Might as well be productive. ]

I didn't used to be. I'd get home from work and crash, no problem. A lot's happened lately, though. So, I get it.

I haven't been able to do that in... [ She trails off, huffing out a breath as she mentally calculates. ] Three years? Almost. Granted, I didn't crash out after work every night before then. Sometimes, I would crash at the lab.

[ Caitlin's expression turns wistful. Having Ronnie in her life had helped so much. If she ever lost sleep around him, it was out of excitement. ]

[ There can't be a pleasant story behind all that. Anything making it hard for someone to sleep is bound to be troubling, to say the least. ]

What changed? If you feel like talking about it. And what kind of lab do you work in?

It's a private research facility? Well. Was a private research facility. Nowadays, any research that happens is usually born out of necessity or idle hands. [ One corner of her mouth quirks upwards, an almost-smirk. The idle hands were typically Cisco's, and thinking about him now just makes her miss him a little more. ]

What changed three years ago? My husband died. He was my fiance then, and yes, I know that sounds like I have things a bit mixed up.

[ He's still curious about the research she does there, but there's no need to interrogate her about it. She's not one of his suspects hauled in for questioning, and he doesn't want to make her feel like she can't keep some things private.

His expression shifts at the mention of her husband. Or fiance. Or...something. ]

I'm sorry he died, I know that's painful. Was there some kind of...timeline shifting?

No. [ She shakes her head as she pokes at her pancakes with her fork. ] Ronnie and I, we met at work. I'm a bioengineer, he was a structural engineer. The lead structural engineer for the particle accelerator our employer was building. The night the accelerator went active was a big deal, of course. I had to be there because I was the head of my department and part of the whole PR thing, but he... he was only there for me.

[ She pauses, taking a quick sip of her juice before continuing. ] So it's switched on and it's going great for ten minutes, maybe. Something goes wrong in the core, so he runs down there to fix it. Except it can't be fixed and he's gotten one of our friends to seal him in there to protect the rest of us. So he was at ground zero when the whole thing exploded. It would have leveled most of the city, but he had redirected the blast to go up instead of out. Naturally, we didn't find a body because there's no way anyone would survive that.

[ He knows it's not going to be a pleasant story about a peaceful death. Few deaths are ever peaceful. But the look in her eyes tells him this is bad, and by the time she finishes, he feels like he's been punched in the gut. He feels for her, he really does. ]

It never really gets easier when you lose someone, does it? You just find better ways to live with it. I'm sorry.

Thank you.

[ The polite response to the words I'm sorry never sound right when she says them. But it's the same with saying those words, too. Sorry indicates an apology, an acceptance of blame. But it's most often said by those who have no fault or connection to the incident. ]

It's the most anyone can do, right? Live with it, move on. It's such a cliche, but I know he'd want me to.

[ He hasn't even begun to process Taylor's death yet. After twenty-five years of believing he'd find her alive one day, only to discover she'd actually been murdered by his own father, Kurt's not sure he'll ever be able to move on from that. But live with it? Yeah. He'll figure that out eventually. Carry Taylor with him. ]

I don't know if it's really even possible in a place like this, but...maybe you can be happy, too.

I'd like to believe that.

[ Something in Caitlin's voice sounds hollow. It honestly feels like happy is the last thing she could ever be. Here or at home or in any world. She isn't whole; she hadn't been after Ronnie, and she definitely isn't now.

But that's much too heavy to give voice to right now. Not over pancakes. ]

It's Wonderland, though. Anything can happen.

[ He doesn't know her well enough yet to interpret her emotions, but there does seem to be a heaviness to her voice, a weight to the words she's speaking. Understandably. He knows that feeling. But no, tonight over pancakes isn't the best time to purge their deepest, darkest thoughts. ]

Whatever happens, we always have pancakes.

[ He smiles just a little, knowing it's not much, but it's all he can give right now. ]

[ That gets her to smile. To give a small laugh, an amused huff of breath. It's nice to be reminded of the smaller things. The stuff that everyone overlooks in the hustle and bustle, herself included. ]

That we do. We will always have pancakes. And if there can't be pancakes, then there should at least be waffles.

just look at the state of you, babe.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject