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Sara Lance ([info]taeralsafar) wrote in [info]timestreamic,
@ 2016-09-19 16:12:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!journal post, !log/thread, leonard snart / captain cold (tv), sara lance / white canary

WHO: Sara Lance & Leonard Snart
WHERE: Some dive bar
WHEN: Monday Sept 19
WHAT: Reunion times
WARNINGS: probably yes
STATUS: incomplete

I will not ask you where you came from


"You've got to be kidding me."

At least Rip had given her a choice. Sara looked around her new surrounds after she'd been unceremoniously deposited on the sands of Tortuga, trying to figure out how the hell she'd found herself here. Intellectually, she knew, because the incredibly irritating AI who looked like freaking Scarlet O'Hara had explained it, but that didn't make her any more thrilled with the idea. Working with Rip and their band of misfits had been one thing. They'd been fighting toward a common cause and it was one she believed in. This, she wasn't so sure about, but it seemed like she wasn't being given any choice in the matter.

Once she'd deposited her meager belongings in the room they'd assigned her, Sara decided to explore the area. If she was going to get kidnapped to some crazy series of missions she hadn't signed up for, there were worse places to end up than Tortuga. Pirates, rum, corsets. She adjusted hers and gave her reflection a reluctant smile. As long as she was here, she might as well have a little fun.

Sara found a bar without much trouble. It was dirty and dangerous looking, but she didn't think that was necessarily a drawback. Several of the patrons checked her out and she smirked back at them on her way up to the bar. Unsurprisingly, rum seemed to be the drink of choice around here. It wasn't normally her first choice, but Sara ordered some, anyway and hoped the glass was a lot cleaner than the rest of the bar.

Drink in hand, Sara moved off to find a seat. There was a table in the corner, nice and shadowed, where she could survey the room without having to actually talk to anyone if she didn't have to. It was only then that she pulled out the tablet she'd been giving, which looked more like a journal at the moment, and keyed in a message to her fellow agents.


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[info]snarted
2016-09-19 10:00 pm UTC (link)
Len had never made a habit out of drinking, least of all the hard stuff that seemed to be, and should have been, in abundant supply on a pirate island. No, just a beer now and then, a sip from a stolen and shared bottle of vodka, was the extent of it these days. After all, someone had to keep their wits about in order to be able to reign in control over a slammed Mick Rory, preferably before he torched the place and stood back to watch the flames grow. Never a dull moment to be had.

Applied to this place, as well. He didn’t care for the money the Agency had gifted him with. A little sleight of hand inside a dull bar, and he had ample opportunity to rid those drunk as a skunk from their arguably hard earned coins. Boring, slow, but lucrative. And dressed into the clothes he had been given - scarcely had a problem with that, at the very least - he walked into yet another one of those dives that littered Tortuga, quickly scanned the room, and made his way towards the bar. "Rum." And quickly reached for the purse of the very nearly passed out man next to him, and with another sleight of hand, dumped its contents on the bar. “And keep them coming.” A nod from the toothless bartender followed, but Len’s attention was elsewhere by now. Someone was staring at him.

And he craned his neck, and smirked softly.

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[info]taeralsafar
2016-09-19 11:08 pm UTC (link)
Sara saw him come into the bar and she froze, rum glass halfway to her lips as she stared at him. She knew how time travel worked. She'd been to the past and the future, she'd seen past versions of people who were supposed to be dead. The idea that she could run into ghosts from her past here, though, was one that hadn't even occurred to her until this moment.

Conflicting emotions filled her at the sight of him. A part of him wanted to punch that smirk right off his face, beat the hell out of him for dying on her. Another part of her was so happy to see him she could almost cry. She squashed both impulses, rising from her seat to walk towards him.

"Whats a nice man like you doing in a bar like this?" she drawled.

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