Nice Night for a Walk

July 28, 2014: Barry, Betsy, and Draven have a midnight stroll through Central Park, and don't get attacked! What's up with that?

//Central Park //

Sitting on 843 acres of public land, Central Park is one of the most famous sight-seeing spots in New York, and is considered large enough to have its own police precinct (the Central Park Precinct) dedicated to its protection. The Park boasts several lakes — all of which have been created artificially — extensive walking and bridle paths, two ice skating rinks, a variety of outdoor theatre spaces, several playgrounds, and a considerable collection of whimsical statuary. It is home to Belvedere Castle, the Carousel, the Central Park Zoo, the Conservatory, and Cleopatra's Needle (one of three, 70-foot Egyptian obelisks from the Temple of Ra in Helios, its mates residing in London and Paris).



Mood Music:

"Hi Bartholomew. I was wondering if you've seen what I've done with my keys. It doesn't matter though, I'm going for a jog. Call me when you get this message."

Who knows what was going through Betsy's mind when she decided to jog in the middle of the night at Central Park. But she was definitely armed. Armed with an evil glare, violet hair, and a set of guns that would possibly make any wiry man jealous (the arms), she pushed herself. The spandex clung tightly to her legs as she ran, her shoes laced tight enough so that she could freely let loose, her arms bare yet upon the moonlight, there was a certain shine brought on by sweat from the exertion she put forth. She was working off that disconnect. That anger. That cold that sometimes took over her and pushed people away, when all she really wanted to do was just connect again. Feel her type of normal.

Her feet pounds the pavement, moving fast as she is willing to go. Eventually she did slow her pace, breaking that speed run into a half walk that hand her doubling over with hands upon her knees to breathe it out. Thank goodness for deodorant.


Barry had been working late, trying to solve a particularly troublesome case. The evidence didn't seem to fit to any pattern he was familiar with. He'd been working with a colleague on the issue, and finally, long after hours, they came to a conclusion, forwarded their discovery to the relevant people, and headed home. For Barry, that was a short trip. But then he noticed the blinking light on his answering machine. He still has one, since forwarding messages to mobile could cause some hefty charges with the globetrotting he does. "Elizabeth," he says after hearing the message, and he begins moving at super speed.

In a world of blurred images, he runs to his closet, changing into some clothes that would be appropriate for a midnight jog. He runs all the way from Central City, Missouri to New York City, New York. Arriving at her apartment, he finds that she's already gone, and so he begins to run, moving at super speed, looking for her. She's probably some place nearby, maybe Central Park. Which is where he finds her. Since she already knows his secret, and he knows her, he feels safe slowing to her speed beside her. One minute she's running alone, and the next, she has company. As nonchalantly as he can, he asks, "so, what's this about keys?"


With her breath caught, she stood up again and began to run. She didn't start off with a slow jog, it was all raw power, more or less running away from something than to. She was nearing a bend in the path, her teeth grit to fight off the burn, her chest swelling with a little bit of pain as she promises herself one more mile. At least, that was until Barry popped out of nowhere, giving her a little bit of a scare.

With a scare like that, comes a scream. And with a scream like that, comes an instant reaction by way of a huge push of telekineses in Barry's direction. Screw that noise, she was ready to fight. She didn't know if she hit him, but she stopped immediately and put herself on guard, fists raised and ready to strike, not knowing that it was actually Barry who startled her.


He should have returned her call. He does that. It's easier for him to just arrive in person than to return a call. So the scream comes, surprising him, and the telekinetic wall push. He puts his hands up to it, not really feeling the impact thanks to his swift reaction, but he looks up, down, and to the sides, trying to decipher the shape of the force pushing him even as he moves backwards. He looks like he's leaning forward against a glass wall. "Figures, you call and tell me you're going for a jog. When I show up, you push me away. It's always the same story."


It was practically midnight in Central Park, barely anyone around to bother save for the random bums who take up a bench to sleep. Betsy was on the path, jogging her life away, and being met by Bartholomew who quite literally scared the jeebus out of her tookus. Hah.

"Bollocks.." She mutters to herself, dropping her stance and letting up on the wall that sought to push and smush him into a tree. She was still a little bit winded, but completely aware of her surroundings now at his appearance. It wasn't as if she forgot that he was possibly the fastest man on the planet, but she was damn sure she told him to call.

"I said to call when you got the message, not show up. Though.." Her hands soon move to her hips, taking her time to slow her breathing, her head lowering and then shaking, her pony tail whipping back and forth with a shake of her head. "I'm not pushing you away. I was asking for your help. You were the last one with me at my house and ever since, I cannot find my keys." She wasn't blaming him, but they did have drinks. Maybe he was more lucid then she. "You seem knackered. Bothered, if you will. What's wrong."


"Language," he immediately says at the British swear word. "There could child…" and as he looks around, "okay, no children, but you never know, one of the people sleeping the park might have caught something on BBC, once." It started as a joke, but as he looks, seeing some people off in the distance, with what little they own, he's suddenly in no mood to joke.

"Next time, I will, if I remember. Sometimes I don't. Sorry about that, Elizabeth." Though as her hands go to her hips, he slips his own hands into his beige shorts. He's not really dressed for a run, more for a walk on the beach, with beige shorts, a bluish purple t-shirt, and running shoes.

"Keys, huh?" he asks, tapping his chin. Moving closer, he whispers, "then how did you lock your door right now? If you want, we could go back and have a look around, but I don't remember seeing them." At the mention that he seems knackered, he shrugs, whispering, "well, I did just run over a thousand miles, and all I got was a force push."


Indeed, no children around. Though one that is coming along the path, coming into enough range to hear people talking. A few coins given to some of the homeless as the man passes them. Wearing his signature leather jacket. People that are keen to watching tv most likely know of him as Draven draws nearer to the two.

The up and coming comedian just studying the two as his path brings him near them. Hearing the last of Barry's words if not the rest of it. "There are worse things." He offers, though in the voice of Superman, smirking in hopes that they will be caught off guard.


Betsy smirks a little at his mention of her language, her hip now cocked in a stance of defiance. "I doubt anyone in their right mind would have a child out this late. Besides, when no one’s looking, children swear much more than the adults when they want to." True story. She huffs a little though, turning just a little to follow his gaze towards the distance, a right frown marking her features as she turns back towards him. "What is it?"

But, she leaves it alone, giving her head a slight shake as she turns back towards him, her head canting to the right and lips forming into a pucker. "It's alright. It's a quirk. Just don't… do.." She waves her hands in confusion, attempting to figure out what she could say to his appearance. "..Just give me a warning next time. Like, stand back. Say, Oy, Betsy. From far away." The thought of that had her chuckling a little, but as he moves close, she glances around, then reaches out to try to take his arm to draw him into a walk.

"My home is safe as can be in a neighbourhood such as that. I won't say that they screen people, but I could leave the door wide open and the only thing I'd have to worry about is something pulling it shut." She smirks a little, her arms folding about her chest. "And besides.. you ha-.." And then the sound of Superman actually causes her to stop, her head whipping back and forth, -and- up and down just to see if she could see the red-caped man. But.. it was just some guy. Maybe he didn't say that, and they just got a drive by of the Supes.


"Noted," Barry remarks, and tries his best English accent, "oy, Betsy, over here," but he can't do an English accent. It sounds more like he's trying to fake a New York accent. As she moves on to talking about her home, he gives her a concerned look. He's not buying how safe her home is, but the chances of her place being burgled are pretty slim. Not slim enough in his opinion, but close enough.

He opens his mouth, ready to say more, but then he hears Superman. He'd recognise that voice anywhere, but when he turns, it's not his former colleague in the Justice League, but just an imposter. Being from Missouri, and not really much of a television watcher, he doesn't recognise the comic. "Nice night for a jog, huh?" Just how much did Draven hear, he wonders?


Draven is most likely just thinking the two are messing around, not really being who they are. Giving them smiles. "At ease." He teases, now in his normal voice. "Just messing with you." Nodding though at the question from Barry. "Something like that. I mean nothing better than a night stroll, right?" He offers, giving a large grin. "I just finished a show actually." He explains himself, offering a hand. "Draven Corbin."


Betsy promptly hushes as Barry addresses the strange man. She wasn't going to read his mind and what not, that would be cheating. Even though she loves a good cheat, tonight, she just wasn't up for it. She was all low key, and too currently into fitness to see if this man had ulterior motives.

"A stroll is good and right this time of night, I'll admit." She finally fesses up, taking up the initiative to step forward to take the man’s hand in a light shake. "Elizabeth Braddock." She speaks out, her accent heavy. She almost sounded like she could have been royalty with the way she introduces herself. "Are you a musician of sorts? Or perhaps a puppeteer?" Of course, it wasn't one of the most noblest of professions, but hey, she used to kill people.


A police officer by trade, at least officially, Barry does relax at the mention of 'at ease'. Sure, he went to the Academy. But that was years ago, and as a forensic scientist, he doesn't really operate by the same rules that most of the force has to adhere to. "I'd rather be walking on one of Australia's beaches." It's almost 8 AM there. He can imagine it, the sand under his feet, the sun on his skin, oh, to be in Australia. But he's not. Here's in New York with Betsy and Draven.

"But a midnight stroll is nice too." He offers his hand to Draven after Betsy shakes it, "Barry Allen." His grip is firm and strong, like you'd expect of a man who grew up on a farm in the heartland. To Betsy, he guesses, "he could have come from a poetry reading, or stand up comedy. Actually, with the voice impression, that's probably it. Am I right, Draven?"


"Great meeting you." Draven offers as the first takes his hand. "Delightful." A clear British accent at that one word, grinning. Turning to face the man then. Nodding as Australia comes up, "Cool. I've not gotten to go there yet. I'm dying to get to go there for a tour." He goes on, almost carefree. Yet he does look between them, listening. His own grip firm due to a lot of his Treceur experience and time in jail, as he takes Barry's hand "Hey Barry." Laughing as Barry did mention stand up comedy before he did, "That's it!"


"Pleasure." Betsy murmurs off, taking a step back to give the man a bit of room if he didn't appreciate the closeness. Her hands soon join behind her back as she listens to Barry wish upon Australia, and guess his profession. It seemed that the two men were getting along just fine, Draven's body language told of someone who was easy going, and generally delightful, while Barry, cop first and foremost, was attentive.

"So you're a comedian!" Betsy, above all things, loved laughter, especially with those dark thoughts plaguing her mind. She needed a laugh now a days, but not tonight, it would be double the trouble with these two men and she'd be in stitches. "So are you staying in New York then, Draven? Perhaps we could catch one of your shows. It would be a right treat, that." She smiles towards Barry, her attempts at being friendly somewhat failing on her, heck.. she nearly almost uses Barry as an emotional punching bag, so this was forcing it. "Or perhaps lunch. I'm always keen on a new face here and there."


"It's a beautiful country, especially for foreign men." With a glance in Betsy's direction, he explains, "from what I was told, Australian women don't like Australian men. One of these days, I'd like to visit there." Yes, pretend like he hasn't been there. Maybe that'll work.

As Betsy asks about seeing Draven's show and mentions 'we', he smiles inwardly, imaging himself celebrating, but outwardly, he just nods politely, "yeah, I'm sure we'd love to see one of your shows. Draven Corbin, right," checking to see if he remembered the name correctly, "I'll have to google you when I get home."


It's rather clear that Draven doesn't seem too bothered by Betsy being close, even giving her a big smile. Just looking a bit between the two though as she does back up a bit. As Betsy goes on he laughs and nods, "Glad you seem to enjoy such things. Indeed, perhaps you'll be able to see one of my shows. It would quite a pleasure to show you both what I can do." He suggests. Letting his hand slide through his hair, "Yeah, currently residing here." The answer being offered easily, though a smirk captures his appearance as lunch is mention. "Ah, yes. That would be quite fun. Perhaps before a show some time." He suggests.

Letting his gaze easily shift to Barry as he speaks of Australia. "Poor guys, although all the better for us I suppose." Though he's not sure on Barry as one moment it sounds like he has been there and the next he hasn't. He won't poke at the guy though. Nodding about having his name right. "Yeah, that's right. I will give you a good show." He promises. "It's a promise." Having a deep voice when saying that, almost a sage undertone to it. Most likely that of a famous movie wizard. Though even without knowing the reference the voice is quite unique and a lot different from his real voice.


Betsy's eyebrow shoots up as Barry speaks, he was a confusing fellow but.. ah well. "Australia is dry and hot. And hard on my hair." She seemed to grumble about that little tidbit, even though her hair is currently wet and in shambles from sweating. Once again, she was so thankful she wore deodorant. "However, there is something that I actually wanted to check out in Australia, if you two boys are interested."

This was not like Betsy really, inviting two people with her to check out an anomaly that could potentially get them killed, but in her current state of mind, she couldn't have cared less about their well being. She wanted to sate her curiosity.

"There is a place there, that most hikers venture to and never return. Some say that it's akin to a ghost story, while other people say that something like that does exist out there." It was a thought that she had on her way to a nap, now being realized. "Perhaps, we can find those lost people and put them to rest, or.." She lets her voice trail off, gazing off into the distance. A faint, purple outline slowly emerges upon her face, yet she doesn't seem to feel or notice that it was there.

Draven's turn of a voice however catches her off guard, and it actually freaks her out enough for her to let out a shocked laugh. "Oh, that's rich. That's completely rich.."


Officially, Barry is a forensic scientist for the Central City Police Department. He earns a modest living. As the Flash, he's travelled the globe, seen things, visited places, found amazing deals on electronics, furniture, and anything else he might want. Most people run to a place like Wal*Mart of Best Buy when they want to buy something, some go to higher end stores, but Barry, as the Flash, he runs to the source. And why not? He can, so why not?

"You know I'd be there if you needed me, Betsy," he offers before she shares her story, and when she's done, he's still interested in helping her out. "Let me know when you want to go, and I'll book a seat next to you." On his salary, he'd be hoping she flew coach, but somehow, he didn't expect that to be.

To Draven, he grins, "So Mr. Corbin, when is your next show?" He never did get a straight answer. Maybe with his schedule, even he's not sure. The life of a star.


"Oh, sure." Draven agrees about heading for Australia, "Depending on when though, got a busy schedule. Though I am sure I can work around it." Raising a brow though as she goes on about what it could be. "Sound interesting." He offers, not quite the super hero type, to go searching for folks and stuff. Although the place does sound exciting. Studying her as the purple starts showing. Turning to Barry as well. Nodding a bit as he listen to the man as he speaks to the girl. Before a question is turned his way. "Ah, I have one coming up tomorrow. It's for the Tonight Show, I'm doing the entertainment bit. I am sure I could get some tickets for it if wanted. Though I will also have a show next week in Gotham if either of you are there. It's the place I first started out at." He finally offers a more straight answer.


She snaps out of whatever daze she was in, that violet outline soon disappearing as she puts on a winning smile. "You don't need to book a seat. I'll fly us." She pats herself down for a moment, her hands.. quite rudely, grasping her breasts to look for her phone which.. was probably missing. Shit. "Take down my number. 919-555-1034." She offers up to Draven, since Barry already had it, she saw no need to give it to him yet again.

"I think I prefer the show in Gotham, however. I do need to visit a few galleries there, possibly rub elbows with the who's who to see what I could invest in." Money money money! "But gentlemen, I do have to leave. I need to get cleaned up, I have a busy day tomorrow."


As Barry considers their occupations, he smirks softly, "Of the three of us, I'm probably the one with the easiest schedule to navigate." Then, for Draven's benefit, he adds, "I'm a forensic scientist." He can get out of his work pretty easily. Central City doesn't have a lot of call for forensic science, especially with the Flash patrolling the streets. Crime is usually white collar, and even that's low these days. "I probably could arrange a trip to Gotham. Where are you performing?"

As Betsy offers to pay for his ticket, he grins, "Really, wow. I keep forgetting how much money you make. But, I'll pay my own way. Just might mean a few months of ramen noodles." It's not that bad, but he can joke about it." And at Betsy's mention of having to leave, he decides to play the gentleman card, and says, "It was nice meeting you Draven, and I look forward to your show, but," and turning to Betsy, he asks, "may I walk you home?"


"Thanks." IS the reply about her number, most likely figuring on who she is, or going to. Because purple stuff oozing from you isn't a common thing. Putting the number into his phone and calls her phone and hugs up. "And now you got mine." Turning to Barry then, "Cool cool. Sounds like fun stuff. I've no clue how those things work though." He admits. As for where he will perform he will offer the place to them. "So just show up there and it will be fixed." Actually handing a card to each with when and where. "Of course. See you both around." Starting to do a slow stroll. Whistling, which sounds like chirping birds.

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