Rip Hunter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
directed) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2017-02-04 02:31 pm
directed) wrote in entrancelogs2017-02-04 02:31 pm
Always look on the bright side of life
Who: Rip Hunter and you?
Where: Second Floor, Kitchen, Elsewhere
When: During the event
Rating: PG-13 probably - talk of death, potential violence
Summary: Rip has recently regretted how little time he found for such things as swimming. Apparently Wonderland has decided to make up for that in spades.
The Story:
In the beginning -
Eight hours per a room. It's the one solid fact they seem to have to rely on, when so many others remain untested. With no way of knowing whether the oxygen levels would reset should a room be abandoned for long enough, Rip checks over the supplies he's saved up for those instances in which the closets fail to work. Unfortunately none of those oh-so-helpful voices suggested things like scuba gear or oxygen tanks, but Rip has food and clean water both.
He also has little doubt that other people might not have thought to create such caches for themselves. He winds up divvying up his own inventory in an attempt to buy time. He's a capable enough swimmer, and thankfully not so far from the kitchens just one floor bellow. There will come a point when he needs to rest, but until then Rip devotes what energy and effort he can to transporting supplies to the people he feels a level of responsibility for, to try and ensure this event doesn't claim any of them.
He can be found then making stops in the kitchen, or the tea rooms depending on how far he's pushed himself. He sticks largely to the lower floors for similar reasons, and won't be spotted above the fourth.
On the third day -
On the third day, there is nothing.
After the rapture -
Once the waters have receded, Rip throws himself into efforts with perhaps a greater ferocity than he had when the halls were flooded. His drive nearly manic, he has noticed something else about this event: the waters are not the only aspect of it. Though time moves forward it's also moved back, in a way Rip's been trained to recognize.
Time loops are a rare phenomenon indeed, but hardly unheard of.
The difficulty lies in any attempt he makes to express this to his comrades or the scientists he's met up with during his tenure in this world. His--accident has left him unable to form words from thought, to express what he sees and knows and deduces to those around him. Events are known to pass, but the very fact that they have been caught within repeating time since the start would seem to put that very notion into question. Who are they to assume things won't repeat, that time won't curve and wrap around, and drop them all back in the same flood that swallowed them up before?
That swallowed him up.
Who is he to think he can't die again?
He needs someone to know, to understand, to work with him to find a way to fix this. But in a land driven by magic rather than technology, that plays by its own chaotic rules instead of those based in reality? It's a much hard thing to accomplish than it should be.
Wild card! Let me know if you'd like something else
Where: Second Floor, Kitchen, Elsewhere
When: During the event
Rating: PG-13 probably - talk of death, potential violence
Summary: Rip has recently regretted how little time he found for such things as swimming. Apparently Wonderland has decided to make up for that in spades.
The Story:
In the beginning -
Eight hours per a room. It's the one solid fact they seem to have to rely on, when so many others remain untested. With no way of knowing whether the oxygen levels would reset should a room be abandoned for long enough, Rip checks over the supplies he's saved up for those instances in which the closets fail to work. Unfortunately none of those oh-so-helpful voices suggested things like scuba gear or oxygen tanks, but Rip has food and clean water both.
He also has little doubt that other people might not have thought to create such caches for themselves. He winds up divvying up his own inventory in an attempt to buy time. He's a capable enough swimmer, and thankfully not so far from the kitchens just one floor bellow. There will come a point when he needs to rest, but until then Rip devotes what energy and effort he can to transporting supplies to the people he feels a level of responsibility for, to try and ensure this event doesn't claim any of them.
He can be found then making stops in the kitchen, or the tea rooms depending on how far he's pushed himself. He sticks largely to the lower floors for similar reasons, and won't be spotted above the fourth.
On the third day -
On the third day, there is nothing.
After the rapture -
Once the waters have receded, Rip throws himself into efforts with perhaps a greater ferocity than he had when the halls were flooded. His drive nearly manic, he has noticed something else about this event: the waters are not the only aspect of it. Though time moves forward it's also moved back, in a way Rip's been trained to recognize.
Time loops are a rare phenomenon indeed, but hardly unheard of.
The difficulty lies in any attempt he makes to express this to his comrades or the scientists he's met up with during his tenure in this world. His--accident has left him unable to form words from thought, to express what he sees and knows and deduces to those around him. Events are known to pass, but the very fact that they have been caught within repeating time since the start would seem to put that very notion into question. Who are they to assume things won't repeat, that time won't curve and wrap around, and drop them all back in the same flood that swallowed them up before?
That swallowed him up.
Who is he to think he can't die again?
He needs someone to know, to understand, to work with him to find a way to fix this. But in a land driven by magic rather than technology, that plays by its own chaotic rules instead of those based in reality? It's a much hard thing to accomplish than it should be.
Wild card! Let me know if you'd like something else
no subject
[Which means whatever he has done to Rip, beneficial or not, could be undone at any moment. That just further irritates him - he doesn't like his efforts being for naught.]
Well Rip, I'm sorry my little experiment didn't regain your ability to properly communicate. Yet it does seem to have had some benefit. Unfortunately, I doubt there is much I can do about it with even my powers.
[Mainly because ever since he has come here, his ability to run backwards or forwards in time has been locked away. Not that it would do much good - this is a world that he has to escape, and speedsters cannot create breaches in-between dimensions.]
no subject
Eobard is sorry that his efforts hadn't worked.
What more is there to do besides move on? Rip still would attempt to seek out solutions to the matter on his own, just as he had intended before running into Eobard. Yet the matter doesn't feel quite finished; even knowing that the man had sought to benefit himself rather than Rip, Eobard had tried to help.
In a fashion.
He holds up a finger, asking for the man to wait. This would take effort, as all his speech has. But he is able to at least choose his words with a bit more success. Moreover, Eobard hadn't taken this opportunity to kill him, despite phasing his fingers into Rip's skull.
It seems only fitting to show some gratitude for that.]
Th-- Thah-- [He casts a frustrated look towards the sky. Once more, and for all his strain, there is an audible sincerity to the words when he manages to at last force them out.] Thah-ank you.
no subject
I don't understand. [His face turns confused. Of course he heard what Rip said, but he doesn't understand why.] I didn't fix you. Why thank me?
[The question doesn't sound scornful, or self-pitying. Just... childishly confused in Rip's gratitude. He doesn't see the point. Eobard has received praise for his work in the past, but only when it actually contributed. Yet he can't recall a time someone thanked him in failure. Why is he being thanked when he didn't do as he set out to? Rip's sincerity makes absolutely no sense to Eobard.
And perhaps in that act, Rip exposed a weakness in Eobard. One covered by an unflinching and cold persona.
He sighs, trying to regain his bearings after... whatever that was, and raises his hand up before Rip tries to speak.]
Don't bother answering. You probably can't answer me coherently anyway.
no subject
The hesitation last but a moment. There and gone, and Eobard is likely entirely right in his estimation of Rip's abilities to explain those simple words. He tilts his head to the side for a moment to say as much, but oddly there is something--almost good to be found in seeing that confusion.
Perhaps it is the most human he has known Eobard to be in their encounters.
But since it seems like they are finished here, Rip motions towards the mansion. He is capable of going back on his own, more than and in fact he would prefer it--but they should go separately.]
no subject
I think I rather spend time out here. Go ahead - with any hope your aphasia may be temporary.
[And Eobard turns around and goes the other way.]
boy can't talk but he's still trying to get the last word