anon text | action

[directed]

[Wednesday sees Rip—on a boat! A boat and a bar, to be precise. Anyone is free to find him there. But even if they don’t, they might still speak to him. Only they won’t necessarily know it’s him, as he sets up his text to be anonymous:]

Now that our happy little “war” has come and gone, let’s move on to other things, shall we? I bake things. Cakes, specifically. With preparations no longer taking up so much of everyone’s time, I’ve got hours to fill. Thus, an opportunity for you, the random citizen of Wonderland.

If you would like something made especially for you, let me know. I’ve ample practice in both cooking and decoration, and I’m rather good at it should I say so myself. The one catch is that I’d prefer not to make my identity public. Personal reasons, you all understand. Or you don’t, but that won’t change my mind.

Now then. Ask away as you will.

[Spoilers, he was drunk at the time of this posting.

More spoilers? He’s going to be drunk on Thursday too. But since the bar on the boat closes eventually, Rip does end up back at the mansion. There may even be food involved at some point, should anyone want to find a potentially water-logged British man making demands of the cabinets in the kitchen--though not for nachos. Oh no. His once go-to drinking snack has been forever associated with someone else, and he’s trying not to feel at the moment, thank you.

There’s also the fifth floor bar, where Rip heads with a bit of trepidation. He’s a touch more somber there; more watchful than he cares to admit of the entrance, and those who pass by it. It’s foolish, really. They’ve already had their talk. Why would he expect to catch glimpse of Steve Rogers on the fifth floor now?

Why would he be there still. So many hours—a whole night later.

It’s late in the evening before he thinks better of it, finally, and returns to his room for the night. Late before he drops down onto his bed to stare up at the ceiling, dizzy with drink, and wait for exhaustion or alcohol or whatever other forces remain at play to let him drift into unconsciousness.

He doesn’t expect anyone will come calling.]

[[ooc: So Rip has two open posts! For anything on the boat please go here, anything after that can go in this one. I’m also open to have him found elsewhere should anyone want him! He’s just going to be sad and miserable for a bit. :c]]

Comments

[bibliocorn]

[Yay, does he win a prize? Or perhaps the real question is does he want it when he gets it?

He does his best to ignore what Rip is eating, instead trying to focus on the...everything else.]

I think you and I have a very different definition of complicated. Did you think it might be a good idea to dry off first? Do- you you need a towel? I can get you a towel.

[directed]

[Depends on how he feels about cake, most likely.

But at the moment, Rip won’t be baking. He’ll instead be taking his own prize of one rather delicious smelling burger over to a counter. Not that there’s any presumption of formality; rather, he’s just picking a spot less in the middle of the room, seemingly content to stand there while they both eat.

Sunburst’s observations about his current state nonwithstanding.]

I can get me a towel too. [Never mind all the old wisdom that promises colds and fevers when someone leaves themselves to soak too long. He continues to drip, drip, drip away, even as he picks up his meal to take a bite.] Thought I’d eat first. Makes more sense than going upstairs only to come back downstairs and go up again.

[Logic is magic! C:]

[bibliocorn]

[He has pretty ambivalent feelings about cake.

He is definitely not ambivalent about Rip's logic, though. He rolls his eyes, letting out a soft, frustrated snort.]

Evidently. [He moves to sit nearby, awkwardly balancing on a stool. ] Of course, not risking giving yourself a cold by drying off first would have probably made the most sense. Just saying.

[directed]

Please. I’m made of heartier stuff than that. [So says the drunk man who smells of booze and seawater. Even so, nothing would be tearing Rip away from his burger now that he’s got it; he’s ravenously hungry, enough that even an oatburger might satisfy—though not as much as the cow does, given the way he groans after that first bite.

Give him a moment, Sunburst. He wants to savor this.




…All good? Moving on then.]

Besides, I’ve gone through far worse than a little dunk in the ocean. [He waves a hand as he thinks about it, except quite a few of those examples aren’t exactly things he wants to talk about. Anything related to Egypt and deserts, for example.]

Do they have gulags where you’re from?

[bibliocorn]

I'm pretty sure your immune system won't care either way, given your current state.

[He wants to fuss, and by Celestia, he's gonna fuss. He frowns at the question, his head tilting to one side, sounding out the word slowly.]

Gulags. Um. No. Are they...are they some kind of creature?

[They sound like a creature.]

[directed]

[By God does he fuss! Rip nearly rolls his eyes, but instead, settles for a frown.]

Thank you mother. Bloody hell, it’s like they brought her to Wonderland and made her a horse.

[No it’s not. Rip wouldn’t dare sass his mother the way he just did Sunburst.

But the talk of the gulag! That is far, far more interesting. His eyes light up even as he shakes his head.]

They’re a prison. Russian. Terrible, terrible places. Filled with corruption and terrible people. The worst. [Ray’d nearly died after a few days in one—although to hear the story told, it’d been clear that so much of that had been his own well-intentioned fault.]

I went to one, once. Wasn’t a prisoner though. [Huh. That doesn’t really make the point, does it?] The one in Egypt though. I was absolutely a prisoner there. Starved and tortured until I could hardly stand.

[Oh, but that’s a bad topic to ramble towards; Rip’s eyes focus on something unseen in the distance. Vandal Savage was dead three times over, and yet in his drunken bumbling about, Rip could still hear the man’s voice perfectly—taunting him, demanding to know who he was.

Demanding in another century to know why.]

[bibliocorn]

Pony and at least then you're less likely to keel over from hypothermia. Somebody's got to keep that from happening, and it might as well be me.

[He listens to that, head canted to one side, brow furrowing. The concern he already has for his friend growing considerably more as this goes on. ]

Wow, Rip, you sure do know how to tell the best stories.

[A little snark, while he digests all of this. ]

That's...really awful, we definitely don't have anything like that in Equestria. And okay, it is worse than being in the ocean. It still doesn't explain why you were in the ocean, though.

[directed]

I’ve got a jacket; I’ll be fine. [Never mind that the jacket is soaked. It’s still a jacket and it’s meant to keep a person warm. So there.

Snark for snark.]

…Well. At least that one’s got a decent ending. [Not a happy one; nothing involving the murder of his family could be happy. The only good thing to come out of it all was vengeance, and it would likely change the nature of his friendship with Sunburst should the pony find out the truth about just what sort of man Rip is.

Which is why it’s so much better to focus on the present. A story currently being written, and a rather easy answer to provide.]

Because that’s where the boat was, naturally. [See? Easy.] The bar boat, specifically. Although I fell out of the boat that was bringing me back to the dock. The whole ruddy thing tipped over, right as we were about to get there.

I walked the rest of the way. To be safe.

[bibliocorn]

...Rip that only works if the jacket is dry. I know I'm a pony and all, but I understand how clothes work.

[Rip PLEASE. Sunburst puts his head in his hooves again, letting out a slow, unhappy whine.]

Okay this is going in circles. Why were you getting so drunk that you ended up falling out of a boat, then walking in the water, and are now sitting in the kitchen, soaking wet? Can we get to that step please? I think that's the important one we're missing here.

[directed]

Picked up on that, have you? [The bit about going in circles, not the jacket. Was Rip trying to be purposefully obtuse. Maybe, maybe not. He can damn well take credit for it though.

Still, Sunburst remains a friend—albeit an irritated one at present. While there are many Rip wouldn’t give much of a damn about pissing off, this particular pony and this particular issue don’t quite manage to escape notice of whatever spark of conscience Rip might still possess after so many attempts to drown it.]

There’s been a new arrival. Steve Rogers. [He’d motion towards the network device if he had it out, but Sunburst is clever; he’d recognize the name if he’d seen the introduction.] He and Peggy just so happen to share a universe—along with a history.

[He takes in a slow breath; suddenly, his appetite has vanished. The burger gets put back on the plate.]

One that was tragically cut short when Captain Rogers sacrificed himself to save countless lives.

[bibliocorn]

[He does recognise the name. It's not one he responded to, but he does recognise it as one of the latest slew of arrivals. Rip continues to talk and Sunburst's irritating is quickly replaced with concern. ]

Oh. ...Yeah. Yeah that'd just about do it.

[Put Rip into the state he was in now, that is. He hesitates, not quite sure how to help this situation, but desperately wanting to do something, anything to ease some of the pain his friend was under. To take some of it away for him and give him some breathing space again.]

I- have you two talked about him showing up? [He goes with this, hoping that there's some sort of life preserver he can throw here. That not all is lost. ] I mean, it sounds like a complicated mess already, but-

[But could he imagine Peggy crushing Rip's heart? Even over someone who clearly means a great deal to her. It would mean choosing one love over another - or at least he guesses so, over Rip's used of history - somebody here is going to end up hurt. He hopes it's not Rip, selfishly, he knows, but loyalty does that to you. ]

Is there anything I can do?

[directed]

[Thus, understanding. Rip shrugs in helpless agreement, yes, it’s done it quite nicely, even if in the telling it all sounds rather pathetic to him. He scrubs a hand briefly over his face—a mistake, as there’s still grease and likely some mayonnaise on his fingertips—only to let out a long sigh when Sunburst asks how he might be able to help.]

Regretfully not. She cancelled our appoint--[No, wait. He’s being honest here, isn’t he?]--our date tonight to speak with him. Told me she’s sorry.

[Sunburst would understand what that might mean, would he? Rip lets out a sad little laugh—but even so. He continues on. More than he should, probably, but frankly?

It feels a bit good to be able to tell someone the whole of it.]

I can’t exactly blame her. I’ve spent a large portion of the day wondering what I might do if my wife were to be brought here.

[bibliocorn]

[The unicorn wordlessly levitates over some napkins from the side, placing them in front of Rip. He leaves it up to the man's own judgement if he wants to use them or not. But it's a small way he can offer some kind of help. ]

That...has to be difficult. Having your heart in two places. And Wonderland's not known for its mercy. Finding some way to bring misery to you two when you've found some semblance of happiness sounds right up its alley.

[His ears flick back, a frown forming on his face.]

Maybe it's not all lost. I mean- I can't see Peggy be so callous as to leave it at that.

[directed]

[It's with a quiet nod of thanks that Rip picks up the napkins, wiping away at the smudges now staining his cheek. He'd been having quite a nice wallow before Sunburst came along, made Rip consider the state of himself. Funny how he keeps finding people--in a metaphorical sense of the word--that bring out that side of him. Ones who refuse to merely let him flounder in his misery, but rather insist that he be better in ways both big and small.

He'll likely never stop finding it odd.

Rip takes a long breath in, seeing the mistake even as Sunburst makes it. Perfectly reasonable, really--and perhaps letting the pony in on more of his sad life story would at last leave Rip with someone who understands why he's acting as he is, rather than running to Peggy, insisting then and there that they talk.]

It's--more complicated than that, I'm afraid. My family was murdered some time ago. [Over three years, when he adds up both the time spent in Wonderland and in his home. He looks down at the table, napkin crumbled in his hand. Swallows, before her continues on.] Despite every effort I took to save them, I couldn't--and not a day goes by where I don't regret that.

[Chief among so many things Rip has done that stand worthy of his guilt.]

Knowing that pain, that anguish--I cannot stand in the way of Peggy's happiness and still claim to care for her. Even if her path no longer runs parallel to my own, she deserves the opportunity to take it all the same.

And a lack of interference from me while she decides.

[bibliocorn]

[Sunburst listens, not interrupting Rip's sad tale- nor the explanation that follows it. He realises he's poorly equipped to help his friend with this. He has no frame of reference of his own to lean back on, to provide Rip with comfort. He's known loss, oh yes, and regret for certain- but not to this extent.

That doesn't mean he's not going to try, though. ]

I'm so sorry, Rip. I can't even begin to imagine how hard that is.

[He wonders if this is where Rip got his stance on time travel from. Did he travel back, keep changing things to try and divert the timestream? To make it a thing that never happened? ]

That's...well, I can understand now, why you're giving her the space to chose for herself. Even at the cost of your own happiness. I'm sure she'd appreciate it, if she doesn't already.

[Noble, albeit depressing. ]

Do you need some company? At least for the rest of the night. While you...uh. Dry up.

[In more ways that one. Sunburst couldn't offer much in comfort- but he could at least offer his time.]

[directed]

[Even though he only outwardly nods, there’s a gratitude Rip feels that cannot be put into words. That understanding rather than judgment, instead of well-intentioned if not thought-out advice to march into Peggy’s room, interrupt her affairs, and demand she listen to what he might say on the matter. His head sags forward; in not having to defend his position any further, he suddenly feels the weight and fatigue of the day on his shoulders.

…And yes, the chill of still-soaked clothes as well.]

I would hardly be pleasant to be around. [Sunburst means the best, Rip knows. But equally, he knows himself; Rip doubts he’ll be sleeping that night, even as tired as he suddenly feels. Rather, he offers an alternative that might satisfy them both—at least for the time being.] I think a hot shower might be the best thing for me at present. Although I do appreciate the offer.

[Genuinely so.]

[bibliocorn]

You're not the worst friend I've spent time with.

[Compared to Trixie, Rip is an utter delight. Still, he sees the out for what it is, and understands Rip's need for privacy. Worried as he is for the man, he needs his space. He needs time to think and wait and see what happens with everything. And that? That'll take time. ]

But that's okay. Get a shower and as much rest as you can. I'll be in my room, if you need me.