12042/Wonderland: Delirium

Wonderland: Delirium
Date of Scene:	17 July 2022
Location:	Various.
Synopsis:	Six Titans and one Clownette receive visitations from a very strange girl who wants to discuss Wonderland. Story or sanctuary? Dream or Delirium? The fate of Wonderland rests on what they tell her.
Cast of Characters:	Donna Troy, Madison Evans, Gar Logan, Kate Bishop, Victor Stone, Kaida Connolly, Nadia Pym-van Dyne, Harley Quinn

---

Donna Troy has posed:
    Part 1: Madison.

    Wonderland already seems to feel a little like a dream to those who until recently had been visiting it from Titans Tower. The everyday oddness of Metropolis is rarely boring, but what can compete with the vividness of that fantasy realm, with the brilliant colors and wonderful sights? How can you compare a world where logic stays the same from one moment to the next to a world where even logic itself seems so subject to whim?

    Wonderland is a dream, and Terry O'Neil is one of the dreamers. For centuries it had been the dream of the Red King, and the people there had dreaded the day he would awaken, certain that they would cease to be. The Red King has awakened, but Wonderland has not gone, because three people volunteered to become the new dreamers. Wonderland is safe.

    But what of Terry O'Neil, and what of his friends, left on Earth? His friends are Titans, and Titans do not give up hope to rescue on of their own. Yet it's no simple rescue. They know where Terry is. They can get him back at any time. The question is how to do it without Wonderland ceasing to be. So far there have been no answers forthcoming. Perhaps today that will change -- Donna Troy and Raven have called a meeting of the Titans to discuss the situation. Maybe they have a plan. Maybe there's something they know that can change the brutal, unfair, inevitable calculus.

    There remain a few hours before the meeting. A few hours to clear one's head, to hope for good news and prepare for none. Close by Titans tower lies the St. Martin's boardwalk, a place the Titans are often to be found walking, enjoying the outdoors, sampling the food places and entertainments on offer, and taking in the clean sea air. It's a touristy destination, but somehow it has become the Titan's own touristy destination, and while the wandering Titan may find themselves the subject of surreptitious photographs, their privacy is usually respected. The locals act far too cool to be seen gawking.

    It is a haven from the activity of the tower. Somehow reassuringly normal to those who's lives are often far from it. Even during the days when Wonderland was leaking into Metropolis, it was blessedly clear of strangeness.

    Which makes it all the more unusual that as Madison makes her way down the boardwalk for the sake of her own head-clearing, she sees someone who might almost be a Wonderlander. A girl about the same age she is, perhaps, dressed in what look like thrift store clothes with ragged jeans, well-worn boots and a coat several sizes to large for her and several months out of season. Her hair is brilliantly dyed in rainbow hues, and that alone might make her stand out, but it's the dog she has on a leash that really makes her stand out.

    Or rather the lack of one. It would be odd enough to see her walking along the boardwalk with one of those stiff joke invisible dog leashes, but this is odder, because it's not stiff. The leash moves, as if she were walking an actual invisible dog. It pulls forwards, then drags behind. It stops suddenly and moves low, as if an invisible dog were sniffing the ground. It pauses by lamp posts.

    Perhaps there really is an invisible dog.

Madison Evans has posed:
    "Love the hair!" Madison chirps in a cheerful voice, beaming at the girl. If there's one thing that can be said about Madison Evans, it's that she's remarkably credulous; she's seen a number of unusual and unbelievable things in recent months, and it causes her not to doubt the seemingly unbelievable when it's right in front of her.
    And besides - she can be invisible, too.
    "What's his name?" she asks curiously, as she crouches near the leash, a hand held out for the dog she can't see. "Or is it a girl? Hi pup! I'm Madison!" she greets the dog, lifting her head to beam up at the girl with the riotously bright hair.

Donna Troy has posed:
    The girl comes to a sudden halt when Madison crouches by the invisible dog, and the leash does indeed strain as if a questing nose were pulling to eagerly examine Madison's scent. She tilts her head, a questioning cant that seems oddly exaggerated, as if she didn't quite have control over her neck, and looks down at Madison with unmatched eyes, on green and one blue. After a few moments she breaks into a sad smile.

    The girl is slender, almost gaunt. Her clothes are not clean, and she smells a little. It is not a wholly unpleasant smell, though there is traces of the unwashed about it. There are other traces too, though hard to isolate. Perhaps a bit of alcohol. She gives the impression she has been sleeping rough.

    "His nAME Is dOggy," she says. The cadences of her voice wander apparently at random, and she speaks with a visible effort, as if she has to fight to form her words, yet there is an odd lyricism hidden in the discordant words.

    "BUt hE'S nOT HERE. I was hopiNG if i took hIs leaSH FOR a walk it woulD REMIND HIM THat waLKIES WERe fun, aND HE'D Come bacK. HeLLO mADISON. "

Madison Evans has posed:
    "He's not here?" Madison asks - her tone sympathetic, as she takes the strange statement in stride. "I can relate to that. There are people I miss - who aren't here. Ummm... I was going to buy a funnel cake. Did you want to have some with me?" she invites, gesturing for the other girl to accompany her. "Or would you rather have like... a hot dog. Or a pretzel. Or maybe even a drumstick?" She doesn't seem at all put-off by the girl's slightly less than kempt appearance or smell - but it seems it hasn't entirely passed her notice, either.
    "Are you and Doggy from..." she gestures around the boardwalk, "from around here?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "MAyBE yOU COULD CombINE THE FOur," the girl replies, turning to walk in step alongside Madison. The leash continues its excitable walk along with the two girls. "A HOTDOGPRETZeldruMStiCk FUNNeL cake. ThaT MIghT tastE NIce. Do YOU thiNK IT WOuLd TAstE Nice? MAyBE it WOUld taste hoRRibLe. I COULD MAKE it tasTe Of somethiNG ELSE though. "

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd girl looks around her, as if trying to figure out where she is. "I Don't reMemBER wheRE DOGGIE CoMES FROM," she says. "But i'M FROM HERE. FRom EVERywhere, reaLLY. "

Madison Evans has posed:
    "What does Doggie look like so I'll know him when I see him?" Madison asks helpfully. She steps into the line for the funnel cakes - giving a brief disapproving frown at a woman who shies away from the unkempt girl in her company. Some people have //no manners// - seriously. "I could tell the other Titans to keep their eyes open, too. I mean - lost pets aren't exactly our forte, but I think everyone can have some sympathy for that sort of thing." She grins at the other girl then adds, "Honestly - that could taste pretty good. Salty, sweet and savory... I mean, definite mood, there."

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd girl stands on her toes, peering towards the funnel cake counter in anticipation. It's not a long line. There should be funnel cakes soon. "HE loOKS LIke A dog," she replies unhelpfully, before turning to look at Madison with a slightly unnerving intensity, her head tilting a little too far to the side.

    "DID YOu liKE woNdERland?" she asks. "I Think I LIKE IT. BUT I'M NOT REally sure. I'm trying to MAke my mind up. SO I WANteD To Hear WHAT yOu thOUGHT. IS THAt oKAy? "

Madison Evans has posed:
    "Well- yeah. That's fine," Madison agrees. She looks aside at the girl, a faint frown on her features. How is she supposed to find the dog with that description? That could be //literally// any dog!
    Her attention turns back to the counter as they reach the front. "Can we have a funnel cake, please? With strawberries and chocolate sauce. Thank you so much." Her card is offered over as payment, before she turns back to the girl.
    "I do like Wonderland. I mean - Terry's from there - sorta - and from here. And I like Terry, so that's already a point in its favor. And the flowers that smell like popcorn - genius. And- I mean, I just like wild, and zany, and silly things. So Wonderland's a fun time." She shifts a bit uncomfortably before she adds, "I didn't like it when we went //behind// the dream in the Wood of No Names - all that grief and- yeah. I didn't like that at all - but that's not a problem in Wonderland anymore, is it?"
    Looking back to the girl once more she adds, "Do you have any ideas on how we find another dreamer to take Terry's spot?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd girl looks momentarily miserable when Madison's talk turns to the subject of grief, but she brightens again rapidly when funnel cake is provided. "Thank you, yoU're vErY kind," she says.

    "FLOWERs that smELL OF POPCorn?" she says as she studies her funnel cake as if it were some novel curiosity. "That sounds gOOd. I like how popcorn smells. I MAde FLOWERS That smell of purple ONce, buT THEY MAdE me sNEEzE. ""

Donna Troy has posed:
    Her attention remains on the funnel cake, and she eats a strawberry with an air of vague curiosity, and then starts poking at the batter with a dirty finger. She pulls it out again, covered in chocolate, and licks it clean. The finger goes back in, and she starts swirling it around. The batter, chocolate and strawberries seem to follow her finger, and the swirling gets faster and faster until the entire thing becomes a miniature tornado streaked with red and browns in her hand. "TherE. NOw it's a PROPer FUNNeL," she says. "ShOulD I maKE thEm all liKE tHIS? WouLD People lIKE THAT?"

    Her brow creases slowly, as if some painful thought were overtaking her, and slowly her features uncrease again. "DO YOU ThiNK IT NeeDs a new dREAMER?" she asks. "It DoESn't have to bE A DREam, does iT? I MEan you were awAKE When you were there. "

Madison Evans has posed:
    "Oh, umm-" Madison considers the girl's dirty finger as she inserts it into the funnel cake. "We have- forks to eat these with. Look, it's right- oh." By then, the girl is swirling it all around - still using that finger - until it somehow becomes a vertical tornado.
    "...I don't know that the vendor would want you messing with all of their funnel cakes, but I gotta admit - that is pretty neat." Can she eat it now that the girl's had her fingers all in it, though?
    "You know what - she looks hungry, can we get one more?" she calls towards the vendor, giving them a smile. "Thanks."
    "What does purple smell like?" she asks curiously. "Like.. ripe plums maybe? And how does Wonderland stay... //Wonderland// without a dreamer? I just- I think we all assumed we needed one. I'd sorta wondered if- if we could find someone who was real sick, you know? Maybe dying. And becoming the dreamer would at least... keep them alive. You know? And then-" Then they could have Terry back. "That's not a mean idea, is it? Because I'm trying to be kind."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "I THINK yOu're VERY kind," the odd girl says. "I WAs worried yOU'd be HORRible tO ME. LOTs oF PeOPLE ARE HORRIBLE To me. BUT YOU'RE REALLY NICE."

    She gives Madison a shaky smile, her unmatched eyes lighting up. For a moment it almost seems like whatever is wrong with her fades away, and there's the slightest hint of something far happier, but it almost as soon gone. "PuRplE SMElls a bit likE a stale tomorroW" she replies at a whisper, as if sharing a deepest confidence.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Suddenly she straightens a little. "I SupPOSE ThE QuestioN Is WHethER It has to be a dREAM. MAybe iT /STarTED/ AS a DREam, but maybe iT WOKE UP ALREADY NOW. LIke tHe hat man. DO you thINk he woULD neeD to BE dreAming to see thINgs like woNdERLANd? "

Madison Evans has posed:
    "How can tomorrow be stale?" Madison muses. "It hasn't even happened yet. I mean, the past can be stale - but the future?" She seems to give this nonsensical statement some very serious consideration.
    Her attention shifts back onto the girl, watching her with a puzzled frown as she tries to understand all of her words. "Without the Dreamer though - it was all coming apart. IT was dying. If we wake up Terry - doesn't that just happen again? So how do we stop it from doing that? I mean, if we don't //need// a dreamer - that would be perfect. We just want our friend back - you know? But- we can't hurt other people to do it. That's wrong." She lets out a sigh - though her almost morose expression brightens to a smile as a second funnel cake is delivered.
    "Here. You should use a fork and knife. Let's go sit down and eat - and if you're still hungry, I'll get you a drumstick. It'll be a backwards meal! First desert, then the meal."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Wouldn't DRUMstICKs tAstE All WOODy?" the odd girl asks curiously. As she walks along, her attention seems fixed on the miniature funnel cake tornado, which dances in her hands, swelling and contracting here and there in a strange pulsating rhythm that gives the strange impression it's trying to discover its own shape.

    She allows herself to be drawn towards a seat by Madison, and contemplates the new funnel cake, with plate and fork provided, as if it is some endlessly intriguing puzzle. The tornado funnel cake expands, thins, and drifts away on the breeze as her focus leaves it.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "YOU'Re tHInKING AbOut YOUR FRIEND, BUT WHAT ABOut wonDERLANd itself? DOES It reaLLy coUnT AS a dREAM if thE DReameR DOES it on purpOse, becaUse He doeSN't lIke reality as muCH? MAYBE EVERyone's just confusED BECAUse they'RE So used tO DREamING IT."

Madison Evans has posed:
    "Oh no! Your funnel cake!" Madison says with some disappointment as the thing blows away. She watches it go - then with a sigh, cuts the second one in half, depositing it on the other plate. "Here. You should eat," she encourages her - before showing the other girl how it works - cutting off a piece and taking a bite.
    She considers her, her brows pulling downwards, a worried frown on her features. "That can't be right," she insists. "Why wouldn't Terry like reality? He has his friends here. He has his mother - and //two// people who love him very much and miss him. Why would he choose to- He took the crown to save Wonderland, that was the only reason why," she insists determinedly. He wouldn't //choose// to leave them.
    ...would he?
    "Everything was falling apart without the dreamer! We all saw it happening."

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd girl watches Madison's demonstration with eager attention, as if how to eat is the most fascinating and novel lesson in the world. She follows Maddie's lead gamely, taking a piece of funnel cake onto her fork and putting it into her mouth to chew. Even this simple task seems to take a lot of attention and focus from her. She gives a wan smile as she chews the cake, but after that first forkful she looks tired from the exertion.

    "I MEAn THE FIrst dreamer" she says. HE USED HIS dreams to cREate a woRLd he coULD EsCapE INTO, RIGht? NOw TERrY IS DReaming it instead BECAUSE THAT's how it WORKs. BUT Suppose it didn't hAVE TO WOrK THAT WAY?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    She pokes listlessly at the funnel cake with her fork, and deflates slightly, as if the speech is taking as much out of her as the eating."THE qUESTion iS, IS, Is... IS The DREAM MORe important, or the EScAPE? " She looks at Madison with an expectant expression, her eyebrows angled up towards the center of her forehead. "You don't haVE TO ANswer," she adds after a moment.

Madison Evans has posed:
    Is the dream more important - or the escape? Madison looks at the girl, then looks at the funnel cake, then looks at the girl again. "It can be a place to escape to - without it being a dream?" she asks. "But how?" The //how// of it all is still, very much, the sticking point. If they don't have a practical way to achieve it...
    "Does it involve the Regalia?" she asks thoughtfully. "I mean, Donna wasn't totally, //completely// asleep - she was still here with us. And she didn't even have //access// to the Regalia - she just touched it the once..." So does the Regalia have more power than any of them realize? "Hrm."     

Donna Troy has posed:
    "The REgalia isn't reAlLy ImportanT," the odd girl replies, frowning. "Only the quESTion Is iMPortanT. OR The ANSWEr. Or BOTH."

    She rests her fork on the plate, and leans back in her chair. Her dog leash dangles from her wrist, forgotten and no longer pulling around. She slumps slightly. "I wish THIS was EAsier," she says with a soft sigh.

    "HoW is TOO MucH TO EXplain," she says. "BUT IT IS POSSIble. LOts Of things Are poSsiblE IF you KNOW HOw. It'S THE QUESTIoN thAt's IMPortaNT. OR THe answeR."

Madison Evans has posed:
    "I don't //don't// know how," Madison says with some frustration. And she wants her friend back! For Terry's sake. For Gar and Kian's. For his mother's. For her own sake, and her friends' sake, and for the world. Terry can still do so much more for the world - he's a hero after all.
    She pokes at her funnel cake with a thoughtful frown. "It's the question that matters. How do we save Wonderland without the dream? What's more important - the dream or the escape?" She sits in thoughtful silence for a moment - before giving the girl across from her a grin. "And what does doggy look like? All important questions. Yeah?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "HE looks likE A DOGGIE. Like tHE doggiest DOGGIE YOU ever MEt! HE'S SUCh a niCE dOGgie." the odd girl says. "HE LOOKs after Me, AnD i look AFTER HIM."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Her head starts to drop to one side, and her eyelids drop as if she was falling asleep, but she snaps quickly back to attention, and those blue and green unmatching eyes seek out Madison's again. "THAT'S WhAT IT'S lIKE WITH TErry, isn't IT?" she asks. "You look aFTEr him ANd he LOOKS after yOu. THAT'S More iMpoRTAnt TO YOU THAN THE question. THat's okay madison. I Don't minD. Even if he's a caT Not a doggie, i cAN UnderstAND THat."

Madison Evans has posed:
    "That's the way it always oughtta be," Madison agrees. "You look after people - and people look after you. Your family, your friends, your pets - I mean, if that's not the way it is then- then something's wrong. Someone's not doing their part of the bargain, you know?"
    She frowns as she adds, "Do I need to understand the question to save Terry, though?" Isn't that what this whole conversation is about. She pokes at her funnel cake with frustration, before taking another bite.
    "You seem real tired," Madison remarks, watching the girl with a worried frown. "I don't know if this place is good for you. You could come back to the Tower with me? We could get you back to Wonderland?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "NO, No," the odd girl says. "YOu dON'T Need to unDeRSTAND."

    She flashes Madison a sympathetic smile, and shakes her head a little jerkily. "It DOESN't REALLy MATter about TErry. IT'S PAST TIme that someThiNg WAS done propeRly wiTH wonderLaNd, BUT IT'S NOT terrY'S To claim. HE CAn't keEP It."

Donna Troy has posed:
    If there's something vaguely dangerous, perhaps even vaguely threatening in her words, that's quickly undermined when the odd girl reaches out and boops Madison's nose. Her finger feels odd, and a bright blue butterfly flutters its wing briefly on the tip of Madison's nose where the odd girl's finger had momentarily touched. "BooP! YOu're NICe, Madison. THANk YOU."

    The girls smile widens. There's a gentle clattering as the leash falls to the ground, and the girl vanishes from her seat, to be replaced by a sudden brilliant rainbow swarm of b u t t e r f l i e s that circle three times around Madison's head, and then fly off into the sky.

Madison Evans has posed:
    "Okay, so like- what the heck, even?" Madison mutters quietly, looking up towards the butterflies, a faint frown on her features. It was about as close to cussing as the girl ever came. She shakes her head, then picks up her half of the funnel cake, and the limp leash... and starts back towards the Tower.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Part 2. Garfield

    It has been too long. Any amount of time is too long when the fate of someone you care about is up in the air, even if there have been hints that whatever that fate is, it is hopefully not as inflexible as it now seems. In Wonderland, Terry O'Neil dreams to keep the world of the Cheshire Cat alive. In Metropolis, Terry's friends worry about him. It's not that he isn't safe, it's that he isn't with them. And if he were to return to them, what's to stop Wonderland from vanishing?

    Donna and Raven have called a meeting to discuss the problem of Terry. Do they have a plan to outline? Does /anyone/ have a plan? Is this something that will actually /go/ anywhere, or will everyone just sit around morosely, speaking platitudes, with no solution in sight? Those who await the meeting, those who care about Terry, do so impatiently. For Gar, the solution is to immerse himself in gaming, to try to distract himself with digital illusions of fantasy worlds without consequence. The attempt is barely a success, because Gar is too distracted to pay much attention to the distractions, but he plays on, hour after hour, waiting.

    After a while the images on the screen barely register in his conscious mind. It is instinct and muscle memory more than Gar himself that presses the controller buttons, that plays the game. The bright raster images of playing characters seem barely attached to the screen, inserting themselves into the background of Gar's reality.

    The effect is sometimes known as the 'Tetris effect'. People who play Tetris too long often report seeing faint images of Tetris blocks tumbling past the edges of their vision. Or brighter images, when they close their eyes. It's not just Tetris of course; when parts of the brain become accustomed to focusing on patterns, the white noise of conscious inattention starts to be filled by those accustomed patterns. Ghost-like, pixel enemies infringe on the corners of Gar's mind as he tries, and fails, not to think of Wonderlad. Of Terry.

    'Player 2 has entered the arena.'

    The words glow for a few moments across Gar's field of vision, but they seem barely relevant. He can feel the subtle shift of weight on the sofa as someone takes a seat nearby, but it's not what his mind is focused on, if his mind is focused on anything at all.

    The unreality of the video game seems barely differentiated from the unreality of life. Shooting digitally simulated enemies means nothing. Changes nothing. And what does it mean that Terry is /gone/? The concept seems no more real. No more believable.

    Whoever has joined Gar in the game finally speaks up. "HelLO, Gar".

Gar Logan has posed:
It's nothing Gar hasn't done numerous times in the past. More times than he could count, really. Immerse himself in the games, the fantasy worlds, in ultimately...nothing. Distract. Waste time. Let the hours go by without meaning.

It doesn't matter that Jon said fate had decreed this was not the end of Terry's story, or Wonderland's. It doesn't matter that there was a dream with Kian that Terry jumped in on thanks to whatever he could suddenly do while maintaining /the/ dream keeping Wonderland in existence.

None of it mattered with Terry/Vorpal there, the rest of them here. So, the games continue, one into another, all of it blending together until, indeed, muscle memory makes much of it automatic. If he dozes off, only then do things begin to falter, such as something like his character running into a wall and continuing with trying to find a way through it.

Along the way, someone joins in. "Vic? Dude? Bro?" he wonders, eyes blinking a few times as he tries to focus. It's slow in coming. Someone beside him, not sinking it quite as much as Cyborg tends to. Someone else? "Uh..hi?" He turns toward the source of the greeting.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Turning to see who he's playing against would be a bad idea. Never take your eyes from the screen -- that way you might get ambushed by enemies, or walk over a ledge.

    Gar turns anyway, and sees someone he doesn't recognize. A young woman, about Gar's own age. For a moment he thinks it might be Karolina because of the rainbow hair, but it's not. Karolina hasn't been around for a while, anyway. This woman is shorter, her hair a lot more unkempt than Karolina would generally keep hers. Her eyes do not match -- one green flecked with silver, the other blue. Her clothing has a thrift-store look to it, and she's barefoot. She's a stranger.

    Oddly enough, Gar gets the distinct impression it doesn't matter that she's a stranger. Maybe that's because not much really does matter apart from figuring out how to get Terry out of the sacrifice he has made. A sacrifice not just of his own future, but of the future he had started to make with other people.

    No, it doesn't really matter. Pay attention to the game.

    The game isn't the best, but it's kind of fun. An indie platform-shooter arena game Vic had found somewhere. Fast action, bright colors. Distracting. Hordes of bright enemies rush around in frantic action, each with their own patterns of attack. Weapon pick-ups litter the arena, providing varied and often bizarre ways to eliminate the enemy. Once all the enemy have been defeated, a new wave of enemies show up, generally even stranger than the last. This wave consists of bipedal camel-like creatures who spit fire. A group of them swarm Gar's character, but he's able to weave between the fire and take them all out. Whoever player 2 is, they don't seem to be helping much yet.

    It doesn't really matter. Player 2 is not relevant.

    "I'M noT Really good at THEse gaMEs," she says. "Do you EVER wONDER where the CREAtors get tHEIr iDEAs? PRetty CRAZY, riGHT?"

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan is just on that sort of level that he can look away from a game briefly and still be quite all right. It's taken years of practice to get there, but he made it at a tender age. No need to wait until he's in his 40s to master it.

"Okay, who are you, and why aren't you setting off the alarms here right now?" he questions, yet the game continues and he sees fit to keep at it, fighting enemies nearly on autopilot. Pew-pew-pew. Ka-BOOM! He cuts through the wave, grabbing the necessary boosts when they make themselves available, and he squints /her/ way again. Right about the time she speaks, he opens his mouth then stops short of saying anything further. Not before she's finished.

"Uh, yeah. They're pretty creative, and weird, and right now I'm starting to wonder if they put the wrong kind of mushrooms on the pizza I had earlier."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "ALARMs are for like when someonE'S NOT SUpposed to be SOMEWHERE," the odd girl replies. "I'M sUPPOseD To be here, so it's fine. "

    On the screen, the bipedal camels are replaced by a new wave. Giant flower-pots that wobble from side to side on their bases, a mode of locomotion vaguely reminiscent of a penguin's waddle. The flowers in the pots dance from side to side as they move, and launch seed pods that arc high into the air before landing with an explosion. They seeds are a lot slower to land than the camel's fire spit, but harder to predict where they'll end up, and have an area effect. "LikE these thinGS," the odd girl says. "BUT mayBE IT'S a sPECIal kind of creATiVE. NOT everyone WOULD thINK UP SOMEthing likE ThiS."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "DO YOu think perhaPS MAYBE WONDErlAND is tHE Same? I MEAN A speciaL kiND Of creaTIVE. THe red kiNG Was verY UnHAPpy. HE had to Invent thINGS THAt were VERy diFFErenT FrOM His noRMAl liFE SO THaT HE COuld eScApe froM IT. THAT'S Why wonderlANd iS SO. . . LikE WONDeRland. DON't you think?"

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan squints at the shabby-looking girl, young woman, whatever she is. Colorful Karolina-like features, but not. Clothes that definitely look like they've seen some things. He sends the camels packing, and here come the flowers with their seed bombs. Shouldn't be much trouble, with or without this one helping. She still didn't say her name.

He asks, "Supposed to be here? Who said?" There is skepticism in his query, but it hasn't stopped him from continuing with the game. He's dealt with bigger distractions than this. Far bigger. He rubs at an eye during a brief moment of respite from the incoming attacks, reaching for a sip of water as well. "Yeah, well, this is what they do. Mario was a plumber who jumped down pipes and fought plants and turtles and a bunch of other stuff. Sonic ran around and grabbed rings, and he faced a bunch of robo-things that had little animals trapped inside them, so when he beat them he also freed the animals."

It's the mention of Wonderland that causes the record playing in his head to skip as the needle drags across it, causing him to twitch once. "What do you have to do with Wonderland?" he asks immediately. There's a lot more he /wants/ to ask, but this is where he stops for this very second.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "What do I HAVE to do with woNDErLand? " she repeats. "THat'S WHAT WE'Re all trYing to Figure oUt, silly!"

    She has her eyes fixed on the screen, her fingers moving rapidly on the controls. Gar still hasn't run into her character in the arena, but at one point some of the flowerpots attacking him are dive-bombed by enormously overweight sheep. Perhaps that was some special pick-up she found. "WHY Would marIO WAnT TO FigHT TURTles?" she asks.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "TURTLes CAN BE quite nICe. BuT They are sloW. He didn't have to fighT THem. DO YOu THInk the crEATOR OF MARiO HAD SoMETHING against turtlES? OR mAYbe in hIS Mind thEY REPreseNTed sOmeTHING ELSE whiCH HE Didn't REALLy wANT to facE."

Donna Troy has posed:
    The sofa moves slightly as she shifts around in her seat. She can't weigh very much. "ALL THE STUFF the red kiNG DReamed up was bECauSE OF His traumA. BuT TERrY doesn't sharE HiS TrauMa. SO WHY IS HE DREaMIng it?"

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan keeps stealing glances her way, peering at the unnamed, mysterious one who knows about Wonderland, and Terry, and the Red King. Before any of that, he simply shrugs. "That..was just the story. The big bad was Bowser and he had his Koopa troops you had to fight. There were flying fish, and squid, and beetles, and a really annoying turtle who flew around on a cloud and dropped spiny enemies on you in the worst spots. I don't really know why Miyamoto and Tekuza came up with turtles." That he can name both designers should be no surprise. He could go on, but he won't.

Clearing his throat right about the time the sheep appear, he squints. Is this part of the actual game, or have they transcended that sort of thing to reach a higher plane of existence? Wonderland, the Red King, and Terry are more important, pertinent topics right this moment.

He grows quiet for a spell, then shakes his head. "I dunno. Maybe the Red King created the world, but it has to stay that way or it's no longer Wonderland. And part of Terry is from there. If it changes, he might change too. So it's important it be kept the same. Why are you asking?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "How caN it stay the saME, with a different DREaMER?" the odd girl asks. Gar becomes aware the girl is staring at him now. Even when paying attention to the game, his eyes locked onto the screen, he can feel her gaze on him.

    "IF iT'S impoRTANt it stays thE saMe, SUrely onlY A DREAmer who's Mind works ThE saME WAY aS The REd kiNG coULD DO THAt. AND THat's noT possibLE."

Donna Troy has posed:
    A figure runs across the screen, the nametag 'player 2' floating over its head. It's not one of the characters you can select from the character screen. Not the ninja, the mech, the valkyrie or the space-wizard. It's a short girl with unkempt rainbow hair. "THE REd kiNG HID FROm PAIn behiNd beauty. TErrY doESn't feeL the SAme paIN," the girls voice continues from beside Gar as her character in the game comes to Gar's aid against the last of the flower pot wave.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "IN time WoNDERLAnd WILL change. IT Will BECoME a new seT OF DReaMS. TeRRY'S DREAMS. InSPIReD BY the OLD ONES, BUT neW DREams. So it will be a nEW wOndERLand. NOT thE Same AS THE OLD one aT All. DOn't yOU THINK THAt's sad?"

Gar Logan has posed:
"Because it's.." Gar begins, only to pause as he grows ever more aware that her attention is on him as much as the game itself, and even as her character - a version of herself, he comes to see - turns up to help clean up what's left. "I had it under control, but thanks," he mutters. Did he, though?

Another sip, this time from a can of soda by the water. He came prepared. "Look..I don't know how dreams work, but Wonderland is more than just a dream. I mean, isn't it? Terry is part Terry, part Cheshire Cat. /I/ turned into the Cheshire Cat when he was being attacked, and both of us could be that way here. Do you know anything from a dream you can say that about? Maybe it started out as a dream and, I dunno, some magic or something made it more real. We were there, and /that/ wasn't a dream. But when the Red King didn't have a reason to sleep any more and keep it up, that's when it started to come apart."

After clearing his throat, he can only add, "I don't know what to do, but even if it changes somehow, Wonderland has to be saved, and we need to get Terry back, the way he's supposed to be. But we don't know how. Yeah, that's totally sad."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "HE stoppeD IT Coming apart" the answer comes back. "BUT Only bY CHANgIng it inTO HIs OwN DREAM. AND YOU SAID YOUrSELF, IT'S MORE THAn a dream."

Donna Troy has posed:
     The flowerpots are defeated, and the latest wave appears. Playing card soldiers swarm across the screen, spears aloft. Could that really just be coincidence? "SOMETImes PEOPle neeD SOMewhere TO esCApe to. WhEN thEY REALIZE THAT things outSide tHEir miNDS aRen't FULL OF Delight any more, thEy Look foR wonDERS IN THeiR OWN HEadS," the soft, querulous voice continues. "THat's whAT WonDErlaND IS."

Donna Troy has posed:
    The player 2 figure stands still to turn to face the screen. The horde of onrushing card soldiers parts around her, ignoring her as if she was an obstacle rather than a player, as they rush to engage Gar's own character. A speech balloon appears above the player two figure, with a short question written in it, in colorful characters. "DON'T you think it shoULD stAY THat waY?"

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan's eyes narrow at the screen. It's a large one, taking up most of the area before them. Nothing but the biggest and best. "Then if it's more than just a dream..you see what I mean? What the problem is?" How do you save something that's a little of this, a little of that, but neither thing completely?

"Of /course/ it's card soldiers," he deadpans, a weary expression passing over his face as they go around the representation of the one speaking to him as if she has an invisible barrier protecting her. Or, the enemies are simply after him instead of both. So, he fights them. "Yeah, we all go to different places when we have to get away. I can just turn into any animal I want and go fly, or run, or swim, or whatever. Or do this." He nods to the game, which is starting to feel a little less than just a game. "What are you asking me? If Wonderland should still exist? Of course it should!"

Donna Troy has posed:
    The card soldiers are going down fast. They're pretty easy to defeat -- it's odd that they'd come at this stage in the game, really. The last few waves have all been significantly harder. Still, it fits with Gar's personal experiences of the card soldiers, both in the maze that the Metropolis navy base got turned into, and in Wonderland itself. They're not great fighters. Even so, with player 2 just standing there, staring up at the virtual camera and looking out of the screen at Gar rather than joining in, they shouldn't be dropping this far. The counter in the top left corner sees their numbers dropping much faster than Gar is defeating them. "NO I'M NOt asking iF WONDerlaND SHOULD still eXIst," appears in another speech bubble over player 2's head.

    Gar is down to just a couple of card soldiers fighting him. The counter indicates that there are four more somewhere else in the arena, and it's no surprise when they come running in from the edge of the screen. However they're not running to fight Gar, they are running to escape what is chasing them. The fourth one has only just made it onto the edge of the screen when a claw grabs him up, and he vanishes back off the screen with the oh-so-familiar sound of a Wilhelm scream. And then the thing that got him is upon the last three card soldiers, tearing them to pieces not far from where Gar is defeating his last opponent.

Donna Troy has posed:
    There on the screen in front of Gar, looking down at his character in frumious pixels stands the digital Jabberwock. The odd girl's voice drifts in from the side, from the real world outside the game. "I'M ASKING WHETher you tHINk it reALLy shoULD EVEN BE A DReaM ANY MORe. IF IT eveR REAlLy wAs, if it WAS CREATEd to bE An esCape. WhaT IS WoNderland, A dREAM or an escAPE?"

Gar Logan has posed:
The sprite cuts through the ranks with little trouble. "This is too easy," Gar determines. Initially, it doesn't strike him to think twice about the counter going down faster than he's dispatching the card soldiers. Four to go? But where?

At that point, it becomes clear. Something else is in there, wiping them out, going after them relentlessly. The claw catches one of them, then the rest are done in just as quickly, just as effortlessly.

"Oh, crap," he says of the Jabberwock that shows up, and for a moment even his green skin pales. "Look, I don't know, okay? It..it's both! And that shouldn't even be /in/ there!" He points at the creature, as if to go 'SEE?!' It certainly wasn't programmed in any of these levels before! "I just want Terry back. And Vorpal. And for Wonderland to still be, whatever it's supposed to be. And I'm gonna go super on this fool now."

He activates it with the push of a couple buttons, and his character turns into a good representation of the Cheshire Cat he was. It draws an oversized rocket launcher, rendered and all, to blast the Jabberwock with a glitter bomb..except it comes out as more of a dud that spreads a cloud of glitter around closer to his character than not. "..."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "HmPh." The sound is just on the edge of audibility, part commentary and part sigh, voiced gently from the seat beside him as Gar fires his rocket in an attempt to defeat the digital Jabberwock.

    The rocket does not go far, but the glitter cloud does not settle around the feet of Gar's character as he might expect. Instead seems to continue expanding and expanding until the screen is a mess of scintillating color, pixels dancing in a frantic chaos that obscures everything from view. Then, slowly, color starts leaching out of the screen. Each time a pixel of glitter shines momentarily at some point of the play area, when the glint fades it leaves behind it only shades of gray.

    This goes on for a while, though Gar will find his sense of time rather distorted. Perhaps it's just five seconds or so. It didn't feel as he experienced it that it took very long, but when he looks back on it, it feels as if his memory of watching the colors leach away is a memory of a much longer period of time. Eventually the screen is wholly gray but for a couple of dozen tiny dots of g l i t t e r that swarm together, spiraling three times around Gar's character on their way off the edge of the screen.

    When the last of the color is gone, the letters 'GAME OVER' appear atop the gray screen. The controls are unresponsive. The sofa beside Gar is empty, not even the normal fading impression of someone else having been seated beside him. The second controller sits on top of the console recharging, where he last saw it.

    There was something very odd about that game, but for the life of him, it's a struggle for Gar to remember what it is that made him think that way. The ghost-images of soldiers still dance in the edges of his vision, that 'Tetris effect' thing that tells you that it's time to step away and stop playing games for a while. The meeting is going to start soon. Maybe it's time for a snack instead.

    Somewhere in the back of Gar's mind is the memory of a girl with a strange voice, with rainbow hair and mismatched eyes, but it's a fleeting memory and it makes no sense. Someone he saw in the street perhaps. Maybe something in the game triggered that memory. It's probably not important.

Gar Logan has posed:
Of course it was glitter. Stupid glitter. Except for glitter bombing Terry in the face, point blank. That was fun. And raining it down on things in Wonderland. A couple other instances, as well. It's not so bad when you're not on the receiving end of it.

In-game, Gar watches it spread all around until it dominates the entire view of the screen, changing colors, then color fading away, and however long it happens..he can't be too sure by the time it's surrounding a very confused-looking Cheshire Gar in the game itself. And then...nothing.

The game ends, there is no sign of the strange woman ever having been there at all, and even the game itself doesn't look quite the same as it just had. He can see the after-effects of the card soldiers, but they start to fade rapidly. He yawns, rubbing at his eyes. Did he fall asleep on the couch? Dream the whole thing? Or was it, like Wonderland, a combination of dream and escape?

That fading, indistinct memory of /her/ slips through his fingers like he's trying to hold sand, and with a grunt of frustration he shuts the system and TV off as his stomach grumbles and growls. "Yeah, that was weird. Better eat something. Hope I'm good for that meeting. Not touching the rest of that pizza, though."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Part 3. Kate.

    A Titan is trapped in Wonderland, and nobody seems to know what to do about it. It has been a frustrating time since the defeat of the Jabberwock and Terry's self-sacrifice to keep Wonderland from collapsing. Since Donna and Raven called a meeting to discuss options, the mood in the tower has been one of palpable impatience. Maybe they should have called the meeting earlier in the day, because nobody really seems to know what to do with themselves while they're waiting. That's not so much of a problem for Kate, though. If there is time to kill, there are arrows to shoot.

    The shadows in the giant Titans Tower gym are beginning to lengthen, but there's a while to go until evening yet. The sun is hot and so is the gym, if you've been spending a lot of time exercising. Kate has. The first half hour or so of the session had mostly involved trying to teach Jeff that arrows are not sticks to fetch, but eventually he had got the idea, and has been amusing himself exploring the gym while Kate shoots bullseye after bullseye with machine-like precision.

    Perhaps she has been at it too long though. Staring at an archery target for hours on end can put the mind in an odd place. The world around you can seem to fade into irrelevance until it's just you, the bow, the target. The bright circles become etched on your vision, and the rings of color no longer vanish entirely when you close your eyes.

    Maybe it's the heat, maybe it's the stress and worry, or maybe it's a combination of the two combining with two many uninterrupted hours of target practice, but that's happening hard. The bullseye afterimages are hanging in the air for longer and longer whenever Kate looks away, and she's beginning to see bullseyes everywhere. Time for a water break. Maybe time to call it a day.

    Kate puts down her bow to go over to where her water bottle sits in one corner, to see Jeff sitting close by. Jeff appears to have found a friend. Someone on their own in the Tower when the alarms aren't going off generally means they're a Titan. The team is ever-growing and it's not unheard of for people to bump into a Titan they haven't seen before, but usually there has been something on the system about a new member. Kate is part of the leadership council and pays attention to reports; nobody has said anything about a new member since Madison was invited to sign up.

     The girl sitting on the floor with her legs crossed and petting Jeff doesn't look exactly superheroic. There's no costume, unless the chaotic assemblage of what looks like thrift-store purchases counts. The old, moth-eaten, heavy overcoat she's wearing is unseasonable to say the least. Her hair looks like it hasn't been brushed for days, and is a rainbow of colors. When Kate approaches she looks up with a pleasant if somewhat shy smile, and reveals mismatched eyes -- one green, flecked with silver, the other blue.

Kate Bishop has posed:
    Kate cracks her neck and works out some knuckle pops after setting down the bow. Blinking several times and trying to get the bullseyes to vanish as she blinks. "Might have been overdoing it Jeff." she admits thinking she is just talking to her new smol shark boi friend.

    It isn't until she turns and spots someone sitting with Jeff that she realizes she isn't alone with Jeff. Okay. Odd. The alarms aren't going off, but, well, she does absently pick her bow back up and starts to amble towards the duo. Her shark could be in some sort of peril.

    To be honest the oddly thrift stored young woman doesn't seem like she is gearing up for a fight, and Jeff does seem like a decent judge of character. He has so far only bit problems. So far.

    So the shy smile is returned with a cautious but friendly one. "I like your hair." her eyes flick towards the entrance to the gym and back. "How did you get in here?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Jeff's not biting this particular problem. He seems quite happy getting pets from her, and grins a toothy greeting at Kate showing no signs of alarm at all. He's generally pretty friendly towards anyone who Kate appears friendly towards, but so far Kate has only seen him being this friendly with the strange alternate Wonderland Colette, Madison, and of course Kate herself, before now. Of course those are the people who have paid him the most attention in return, and there may be a connection.

    The odd girl blinks owlishly at the compliment, and tilts her head up. She seems momentarily taken aback by the fact that her hair moves with her head, and tilting her head up doesn't actually let her see it, and reaches up to pull a few wild strands down across her face to look at it. She looks slightly surprised, but then shrugs and gives Kate another brief smile. "OH. . . THANK you. I LIke YOUR shark," she replies. Her voice is soft but unsteady, rising and falling in random, awkward cadences that give the impression that talking is a struggle for her.

    "I cAMe through tHe dOOR" she says. "I think YOU'vE BEEN PRACTICING TOO HArd."

Kate Bishop has posed:
    Well it is true. Jeff may yet be a traitor and sucker for attention and affection. Then again. So is just about everyone. Except maybe Batman.

    Still it is an unusual sort that isn't shocked to see a smol shark with legs and decide to give it head pets. Mind you, Kate throws no stones in her glass house, she went right for the head pets. Wh ois the sucker really.

    The way Delerium takes makes Kate's eyes widen, just a smidge there. It is ... well not normal and Kate has been around enough not normal to have a pretty good barometer for unusual at this point in her tenure in the Tower. Still she soldiers forward with it nodding. "You're welcome. I've thought about doing something fun with my hair, but the press and my dad would lose their minds." bit of regret there. "His name is Jeff, he is a very good shark."

    There is another glance at the door then back at Delerium. "I was about to take a water break" gesturing to the bottle, slinging her bow and reaching for it. "Whose friend are you?" no alarms. Checking if someone invited a friend over isn't a bad guess. She has a suspicion this isn't going to be the answer but it is worth crossing it off the list. "I'm Hawkeye by the way."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "HellO KAte," she replies with a nod of her head. It won't escape Kate's notice that she went straight for the real name rather than the offered codename.

    "I DIDn't reALLY THInK ABoUT dOING SOMething fUn with My hair," she continues. "IT just KIND OF haPpeNed. WhAT DO YOU calL HIM?"

    She tilts her head towards Jeff, indicating the subject of her query. "I CALl him heiRONYMOus. Did yOu geT him iN WONDerlaNd?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    She gives Jeff a few more headpats, then leans back, splaying her hands on the ground behind her for support. Jeff gives a "Mrrrrr" and shuffles towards Kate in the hope of further pats. "I'M lots Of PEOPLE'S frieND," she says. "USuALlY PEOPle dON'T REALIZE THAT. BUT IT'S TruE. I'M HERE for the meeting." Maybe she's a Wonderlander? That would explain quite a bit.

Kate Bishop has posed:
    This relatively strange young woman being a Wonderlander would explain a whole hell of a lot. The way she went straight for the real name and not the codename given though makes her blink. She isn't as careful as Robin, since she is pretty open inside the Tower and with the Titans, but, that is very fast to the chase for someone she hasn't ever talked to before. "Hmm."

    She settles to sit with her water bottle and to provide Jeff with a lap to tumble into so she can give him proper headpets. Sipping her bottle to buy her a little time to think and regroup after the name and all that. "Well. It's good hair." she tosses a smile and then gives Jeff some scritches. "I call him Jeff, he just struck me as a Jeff, though I think it's driving Mads nuts." amusement with that. Tis some devil in her with all the snark.

    "Well, you seem friendly. Why are you here for the meeting and what is your name?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "JEFf is a goOD Name," she says. She frowns, looking troubled for a moment, but the frown soon lifts and she looks at Kate with a hopeful expression. "I GueSS you coUlD CAll me jEFF tOO? OR would tHaT BE COnFUSINg?" she asks.

    Jeff doesn't take telling twice, and when lap is provided, lap is taken. He's intent on getting all of the scritches, which makes actually getting any water a bit of a juggling act.

    "I'm here FOr THE MEETING BECaUSE WE hAVE To decide what to DO aBOut woNDERLANd," she says, reaching out a hand to add to the Jeff-scritching. Happy shark. "WHAT Do yOU THINK SHOULD BE Done about it?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    She splays one leg out straight as she tries to find a comfortable position to keep petting Jeff (the shark, not herself) while remaining somewhat slouched. She seems pretty physically awkward. What with all the training Titans tend to do, it's unusual to see people here who don't move with at least a modicum of grace. "I Think. . . I THinK IT DEPENdS ON what WOnderlanD reALLY is. YOU seE IT Was orIGINaLLy a dream, rigHT?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "But noT LIKE. . . A Normal DREam. IT grew in THE wronG DIRECTIon. AND MAYBe thaT WOuLD Have BEEn okay, but the drEAMER sTOpPED DREAmING It and noW OtHEr peopLe ARe dreaMIng the saMe dREam, aND THat's kInd of weIrd. But they had to, beCAUSE THE red king cOULDN't dreaM It anY MOre."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "HE Got better. I thiNk wonderland is all ABOUT NOt being BETTER, YOU KNOW? IT WAs his dEfeNSE. HE DOESN't Need tHAt defense ANY mORE, bUt thaT DOesn't meAn That other pEoPLE DON'T."

Kate Bishop has posed:
    Kate is nothing if not deft with her handling of waterbottles and shark tums. She manages to pretty much slam the water while doling out scritches then tosses it onto her bag once more so she can have both hands for Jeff attention.

    "It would be a little confusing for me to also call you Jeff. What do the people who know you best call you?" she keeps an eye on her strange conversation companion as she shifts a bit closer to make it easier for Delerium to also pet Jeff.

    "It's a shared world thanks to the books. I would imagine billions are aware of it through the works of art based upon it. It was the Red King's dream yes but.... now it is a dream and place that so many people treasure. I mean sure they haven't been there and had to deal with it themselves but it ... brings wonder and whimsy to the world." she falls quiet for a moment thinking about it.

    "It's important. Fundementally I want my friend back, but I'd like for us to find a way to save Wonderland as well. The world needs places to inspire ... wonder... and we need our Cheshire Cat back." she fell to talking softly there.

    "You nailed it, with the fact other people need Wonderland, it isn't just the Red Kings."

    "... actually since there was an alternate reality person there who knew about it.. I imagine people in .. countless realities know about Wonderland."

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd girl looks puzzled for a few moments, but then her face lights up, as if she has realized the answer to some deep abiding question that had been troubling her for a long time. "The peOpLe WHo knoW ME Best cAll me 'sisteR'," she says. "BUT that DOESn'T REaLly work for yoU. I guesS YOU COULD CALL ME DEE, if that hELpS. I DON't REALly hAVE A NAMe."

Donna Troy has posed:
    She shifts her legs again, unfolding them both to sit with them sticking out. Her boots are not in a good way. The sole on one seems to be working itself loose. There's an odd smell about her -- unwashed, but not wholly unpleasant. A mixture of sweat, old leather, lilacs and sawdust. She takes a deep breath, and her head tilts slowly to one side as she considers all the things Kate has said. It seems to take her a while.

Donna Troy has posed:
     "IT's like. . . TWO DIFFErent things. INspiRES WOnder, YEs. That's. . . THAT's a dREam THING. BUT I DoN't think it'S A NoRMAL DREam. The rED KING diDN'T dream It For fun. He dReamt IT BECAUSE his mind wAS HURTING. BecauSE he neeDED WOnder to hide froM THE paIN."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "IF That part OF WONDErlanD iS GOnE, HAs IT REallY Survived?" she asks. "IS IT reALLY A story, a dreaM? OR is it mORE IMPoRTANt THAT It's AN escape?"

Kate Bishop has posed:
    "Well, not related, so probably Dee works best." a bit of a grin. She also thinks to herself that this young woman is much cooler than her stuck up older sister as well. She loves her but, takes after her dad way too much... ... .. ugn she has to deal with thinking about the whole things she forgot to forget about her dad and some of his business meetings she witnessed when too young now. UGN.

    This philosophical conversation is a good escape from thinking about her family problems really. "More than dreams inspire wonder and hope." she notes softly. "Heroes do too, or at least they should." also parents should. Gah. Stop it.

    "... but yeah very good point... it is about escapism... it is like the original Isakai that copies it's style." she thinks "Well.. maybe Gulliver's travels was the first... I bet google could tell me..." damn it is easy to go down rabbit holes talking to this young woman about Wonderland. Fitting.

    "But.. yes it is about escape and wonder.. Wonderland isn't just about wonder.. the roses have thorns... people learn things about themselves... they escape as well from things as well.. if only sometimes responsbility or boredom."

    "This world would be duller without it."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Oh No, It's far OldER THan THAT," Dee says quickly. She pauses, her head tilting this way and that. "I MEAn. HuMaN StorIES. YOU coULD ASk YOUR Friend trOIA About luciAN Of samosata. THAT MIGHT BE ThE Oldest PeOPle kNOW."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "LOnG BEFORE Atlantis there waS A STOrY THAT THE PEOPLe of the beaR USED TO TELL EACH OTHER. FoR HundrEDS AND thousands aND thouSaNds oF YEArs. ABOUt a caVe where if you wEnt DEep enough, you'D COme out intO a pLACE Where there waS NO snoW and iCE, and where the hUNTING WAS easy."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "ALL THAT's lefT now oF THat STOrY iS PAINTINGs IN The DARKNess, whERE nobOdY can SEE THEM. Even If they COULd, they woULdN'T know whaT It meant."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "PeoplE HAvE NEEDed TO EsCAPE FROM Their own mINDS A LOT LONgER THAN THaT Though. Millions and MILLIONS And billIONS OF YEARS." She sighs softly to herself, then gives Kate a wan smile. She looks tired suddenly, as if all this talking is taking it out of her.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "LONG Ago, things were difFeRENt. BETTEr. HAPPieR. If YOU KNew THAT, YOU'D WAnt to eSCApE tOo. BUT THERE arE SMALleR THINGs PEOPLE NeEd tO ESCAPE FRom. LIke a dead dAUGhter. THE RED KIng MIssed his dAUghter Very muCH."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "I DON'T tHink WONderlAND shoULd be just aN ISEKAi. A DREAM. A storY. I THINK IT NeeDS TO Be A PLACE PEOPle CAN FaLL iNTO WHEN THEY DOn't wanT To face tHE PAIN."

Kate Bishop has posed:
    At some point in all of that Dee is talking about, Kate starts to just stare at the young woman. Sure she is still petting Jeff, but she is also just staring as the gravity of everything starts to close in on the situation.

    See. Kate has met gods. More than once. The talk about the Long Agos and People of the Bear. Their art in caves lost to darkness. She just stares quietly.

    Dee isn't clocking in as anyone Kate can place or recognize, not from anyones stories or the encounters she has had.

    "I think you are right about how it would be good for Wonderland to be a place that people can fall into when they don't want to face the pain. Especially if it helps them process it and eventually they find their way back out Dee."

    She lets that sit there for a long moment. Then she has to ask. "Why can't we make things like they were long ago when things were different? Better? Happier?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Dee stares at Kate a few moments, then shrugs her shoulders. "THAt tiME Has PAssed, and there are rules, she says. "AND. . . OTHEr rEaSONS. I Shouldn't tell yOU, BUt i knoW. I KNOw lots of thingS thAt otheR PEOPle dON'T knOW."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Dee reaches out to Jeff to rub his head some more, and Jeff responds with a happy "Mrrrr." He's getting a lot of rubs and scritches and pats. He's in land shark heaven. "ArE YOU still SEEiNg bUllseyES, KATe?" she asks, tilting her head to the side again. Even that's not a smooth motion -- there's an irregular jerking as she does it, as if she's not really sure how much her own head weighs, and is having to be careful. "THANK yoU. I KNOw you all worry abouT YouR FRIENd TerrY, bUT yoU Were very heLPFUl. THAnk you."

Donna Troy has posed:
    She sits up straight, and dusts her hands off, then scrambles to her feet, smiling down at Kate and Jeff. "I sHOUld go nOW. MaYbe i'll see you at the meetiNG. BUT YOU miGHT Not REMEMBER SEeing me beFore," she says. "People ofTEN don't. ThoUGH EveRyONe sees me sometimes." Her lips quaver and twist a little, struggling to maintain the smile. There's a definite sense of sadness about here, though it's oddly mixed with a strange happiness.

    "ThaNK you kate," Dee says. "And jEFF."

    She starts to walk away, towards the elevators, but before she has taken more than three steps she seems to collapse into a shower of multi-colored b u l l s e y e targets that swarm like a flock of birds, spiralling around Kate and Jeff for a second or two before vanishing from sight.

Kate Bishop has posed:
    Kate very much wants to know. About those things. Rules though. Other reasons. Still her eyes narrow at Dee when she is blown off but also teased with the fact that Dee knows lots of things other people don't know.

    "No, the break and water really helped." about seeing bullseyes. "..but I'm glad I helped?"

    The next bit is interesting "Oh... well.. hopefully I remember you Dee. You seem very nice and worth knowing." she means it too. She can pick up on the strange happiness mixed with sadness there. "You're welcome Dee."

    Her eyes pop open wider at the multi-color bullseyes and then flock of birds that swoosh around her and Jeff. Then she lets out a brearth. "Well Jeff... I told you it is never boring around here." tummy rub.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Part 4: Victor

    The hour of the meeting draws ever nearer. Maybe Donna and Raven should have announced it earlier in the day so people wouldn't be on tenterhooks about it. It's an odd sort of a situation. Terry is not missing. Terry is perfectly safe. Normally when there's a Titan to rescue, it's more pressing, with a greater sense of action required. Not like this -- waiting, thinking, trying to conceive of some /solution/ that will allow Terry to return without demanding some other sacrifice. Something like Wonderland itself.

    The last time Terry had been missing a while, of course Vic had been with him. Trapped in a strange pocket universe inside a singularity, out of reach of the rest of the Titans. Had that been the same for the others as this is now? Of course Vic hadn't experienced that. For a time the Titans had believed -- or refused to believe, without evidence -- that the Titans missing in the wormhole collapse were dead. There was no other evidence. This certainly isn't like that. But what about when they found out that they weren't? Gar had realized that if Terry was really dead, the Cheshire cat should have jumped into his cousin April's body, but it had not. Cassie had consulted the Oracle of Themyscira, corroborating the news that Vic, Terry, Donna and Caitlin were still alive. Then Raven found a way to speak to Donna across impossible distances. After that, perhaps? The Titans had known they were alive, but had no idea what to do about it. The experience of the event had been very different for Vic, of course. But maybe what he was experiencing now was what they were experiencing.

    The worst of it is /not knowing what to do./ Perhaps Donna and Raven called this meeting with some ideas of their own, but surely they would be hoping for other to have ideas. What can a cyborg offer in such a situation?

    This is magic, not science. Maybe there's an overlap in the two. Vic and Nadia have explored the possibility, but little progress has been made. There are theories, of course. The colors of magic. Chaos magic, it seems, may be purple. Is there anything to work with there? Perhaps. But what? Is chaos magic even the correct thing to be considering here? Terry is all about chaos magic, but Wonderland is more than Terry. Perhaps Wonderland magic is a rainbow.

    Or maybe there's another approach. Does the dreamer even have to be a person? Vic had worked on Project Gozer, on the creation of 'belief engines' that could change the physical form of angels through pure digital belief. Could some extension of that idea solve the issue here? Could a virtual intelligence be interfaced to the crown and scepter, and dream programmatic dreams of Wonderland? Or would Wonderland just end up filled with Electric Sheep?

    This isn't a problem you can attack with a soldering iron or a compiler. Not yet, anyway. It's all so theoretical, and where magic is concerned, theory is annoyingly /slippery/. Honestly, magic is worse than quantum mechanics. There are sorcerers who create magical effects by rigorously following very specific rituals. That makes it seem very empirical, and yet... where's the /theory/ behind it all? That's what science really needs. An understanding of the underlying principles that allow...

Donna Troy has posed:
    "IT'S not really like tHAT,," a voice says. The voice is soft but unsteady, rising and falling and shifting in tone with the complex obscurity of dozens of out-of-phase sine waves overlapping. The speaker seems equally out-of-phase. A short, thin girl with rainbow colored hair and mismatched eyes, sitting on one of the lab desks and swinging her legs idly. She's young -- perhaps a few years older than some of the newer Titans, but a few years younger than the old guard. She looks gaunt, and haunted, and her clothes are as mismatched as her eyes.

    She raises a hand to Vic, waving, and gives him a shy smile. "Hi vic," she says.

Victor Stone has posed:
    Vic's been thinking while pulling apart the code made for Project Gozer--because that really is the most obvious solution /he/ can come up with. Support from something that doesn't have a soul, that isn't /quite/ a person, but can still dream. Maybe it won't work, but he has to try. He's intending to take the whole thing to Uffish if Raven and Donna's meeting doesn't come up with a satisfactory result. Better than nothing, right?

    At the strange voice Vic looks up from his computer and blinks rapidly. "Uhh. Hi?" A pause. "Do I... know you?" He doesn't always meet new prospects or people's friends right off, but he at least usually knows that someone's come by. He even checks his T-Comm--no intruder alert, so is she /supposed/ to be here...?

Donna Troy has posed:
    The tower systems are generally very good at telling when someone's there who isn't supposed to be there. Vic should know -- he's responsible for much of them, and the security, subtle but reliable, is something he can be proud of. Of course it's not unheard of to meet a stranger in the tower. These days there seem to be new Titans turning up almost weekly. Perhaps someone's given this strange girl a pass.

    No security system is infallible though. Not long ago, a stranger wandered into the main room without tripping any alarms, claiming he was there to fix the Tower's clock mechanism. That was Wonderland leaking into Metropolis though.

    Magic. The Tower's systems aren't good at magic.

    On the other hand, there's a whole other layer to the security systems of Titans Tower that have nothing to do with Vic. That he didn't program or engineer, and doesn't know how they operate. That's Raven's responsibility. It's not information widely shared, but the Titans know that Raven has been enchanting the tower with wards and apotropaic conjurations for *years*. Presumably they're pretty good by now. They don't cause alarms to ring, but... but what actually /do/ they do? Raven has never been entirely clear. They didn't actually stop that clock guy from entering...

    The odd girl tilts her head to the side, her brows furrowing as if in the deepest thought. "OH. . . YES. YOu know me, everyoNE does. BUT MosT people don't know they KNOW ME." She smiles and shrugs. THinkINg about wonDerland?"

Victor Stone has posed:
    Vic peers at his T-Comm and then peers at the girl. "You're not really here," he says.

    Wait. Back up.

    "...The Tower systems can't detect you," he corrects. Because for once that's a much more likely explanation than 'he's tired and seeing things.' He quietly sets some sensors in the lab to scan for... /anything/ they can possibly pick up, and sits back to peer at the girl.

    "I was thinking about Wonderland, yeah. Trying to figure out what to do to help Terry." He gestures toward the monitor he's been hunched in front of. "A few months ago, some very smart people came up with a way to use limited AI to enforce a desired reality on things that were kind of... malleable. I figured, maybe I could adapt that to Wonderland. Use the AI to 'dream,'" he does air quotes, "the place, without anyone having to do it themselves. Dunno if it's a great idea, but it's what I've got."

    He furrows his brow. Why is he telling her this? "...Are /you/ from Wonderland?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd girl looks very puzzled by the question. "FROM WONderLAND?" she repeats. She ponders the question a little while before saying "NOT ORiginallY, but. . . WELL thaT'S an intERESTING QUESTION, iSN'T IT. IT SORT Of gets to The hEArt of thE matter."

    The odd girl sits stock still, staring at Vic for a few moments before suddenly looking away and resuming swinging her legs. Her eyes roam around the lab. "You're all very worried about YOUr frIEND TERrY. BUt wHAT ABOut wonderLANd ItsElf?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    She pushes off against the surface of the lab table and slides down to the ground, where she starts to wander around the lab as she talks. She holds her hands together behind her back, like a child demonstrating that they're not touching anything, honest. " You alL saY thINGS lIke. . . 'OH I Don't wANT Wonderland to vANISh'. BUT IF WONDeRLANd was thE red kIng's dream, anD NOW TERRY is dREAMING IT, IS IT Really still WONDERLAnD?"

Victor Stone has posed:
    "I think it was more than just the Red King's dream. I mean... I wasn't there for the last parts, but I heard what happened, and I've read the book, and all." Vic watches the girl pacing back and forth, frowning thoughtfully. "I mean, the /place/ was nice enough, but it's the /people/ I'm worried about. Even if they were originally figments of some sorceror's imagination, they're /real/ now. You know?"

    Then he smirks suddenly. "You ever heard of the Ship of Theseus?"

Donna Troy has posed:
"Like the body OF VIctoR Stone you mean?" she asks back quickly, turning from the electron microscope she has been examining to look at Vic, her head tilting a little to the side. "How much can you rEPlace and stilL be tHE SAme victor?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Her head starts to drop the way it's tilting, further and further as if she's falling asleep, before she snaps straight again, and takes a few hesitant steps closer to Victor. "I KNoW YOU THINK ABout it. BuT IS it anY DIFFerent for tHE REd king?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    " WOndERLAnd Was hoW HE ESCAPed hIS TRaumA. BUt HE DOESN'T FEEL HIs trAuma any MORE. DOes thaT make HIM A DIFFErent pErsON? IS WONDErLAND tHE DREAM of sOmeone whO DOesN'T exIsT ANY MORe?"

     She takes a few more steps closer, until she's standing no more than six feet away, and then stops suddenly. She looks down, shuffling her feet, as if struck by a sudden bout of shyness. This close, she doesn't smell clean. It's not the foul smell of someone who hasn't bathed for weeks, but there's a mustiness about her like old furniture in an unaired room, a hint of stale sweat, a touch of machine oil and something floral and almost honey-like that Vic can't quite place. "Is it REALLY EVEN A DREAM, ANY MORE?"

Victor Stone has posed:
    "Well... what I was thinking was... one of the solutions to the Ship of Theseus problem is to look at it from the angle of cognitive science. The Ship of Theseus, in this way of thinking, isn't actually a thing, or even a collection of objectively existing parts of a thing. I mean... we assume that what's in our minds is real in the world, but it isn't." Vic taps the side of his head. "I see things nobody else in the Titans can see, and they see things /I/ can't see. The world according to Raven is very different than the world according to Victor."

    He shrugs. "Point being... in this framework, the Ship of Theseus is more of a structure to organize our thoughts and perceptions. When you think of the ship, you know what pieces ought to be in a ship, what shape it ought to take, how it ought to interact with the world. So in that sense... even if Theseus replaces pieces of the ship one by one, as long as he's still continually thinking of it as his ship, then it's the Ship of Theseus."

    He peers at the girl for a moment, taking in the smell, more curious than put off. "So I'd say... it doesn't really matter whether the Red King still has his trauma or not, or whether he's the one dreaming it or not. There are certain things we expect Wonderland to be, and as long as Wonderland has those pieces, and some kind of continuity, it's still Wonderland. In that sense... I'd say Wonderland almost /has/ to be a dream in order to /be/ Wonderland. Maybe if it had started as a dream but nobody else but the Red King knew it was a dream--but it's part of a lot of people's popular imagination, now. And in both of the books and the Disney movie, at least, Wonderland was Alice's dream." He smiles. "I'd counter with: if Wonderland isn't a dream, is it really even Wonderland anymore?"

    A pause, and then, "Who /are/ you, anyway?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "WhO are /YOU/?" she counters. The odd girl starts to walk in a wide circle around Vic, studying him from any angle. "Do YOu think you'rE ONLY Still you bEcause yoU Think of yourself aS YOu sTILL?"

    She comes to a halt, facing Victor once again. "DrEaMs are sTORIes," she counters. "BUT HE DReAMED a story fOR A rEAson. To EScape frOM his TRAUMa. DO YOU ABANDON The reason, juST BecaUSE IT LOOKS LiKE THE SAME? ""

    She gives a soft sigh and takes a few steps back, retreating to a workbench to lean against it tiredly.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "I COUld changE ALl tHE COLORS AROund in YOUr heaD. SO YOU SeE bLUe instead Of red ANd reD instead oF bluE. AND chANGE THE NAMeS In your HEAD TOO, TO MAtch."

    She smirks a little, as if amused by the thought. "NObody would notice! OR I could mAKE you hear colOrs and seE SOUNDS. Everyone wouLD NOTIcE. BUT botH WaYS, I'D HAVE chANGed yOU, right?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd girl gives a little shake of her head and reaches up to take a few strands of hair in each hand, and starts to plait them together. "IT'S STRANGE. YOu're apPlYING LOGIC TO figuRE ouT hoW TO saVE WOnderland. WASN'T It LOGIC tHaT CAUSEd it to start dyInG IN ThE firsT pLACE?"

Victor Stone has posed:
    "There's logic to Wonderland," Vic counters. "Everything there makes sense once you figure out how to look at it the right way. It's just a matter of the right perspective. It's dream logic, sure, which makes it kinda hard for me... but it /is/ logic. You can connect A to B to C." He grins. "Wonderlanders--and that includes Terry--want /really/ badly to believe that ohhh, none of it makes sense! It's so random! It's so unpredictable!" He raises his hands as he does this, waggling them back and forth. "But randomness /is/ predictable, over time. If you think of chaos as being mathematical, then there are underlying principles, and Wonderland's actually a really good example to show laypeople about the theory. If you think of chaos as entropy, in thermodynamics, we can measure that, study it--and the second law of thermodynamics is actually pretty much the only inviolable rule of nature. Entropy is going to increase over time, period."

    He smiles. "You magic people--I'm assuming you're a magic person--tend to think that science and logic are... I dunno, sterile, somehow? Uncreative. Unimaginative. But they're not, and we're not. I haven't run into /anything/ yet that I don't think I could ever understand, and scientists get into all /sorts/ of wacky discussions. The world I know is /weirder/ than the world Terry knows, because I have /no clue/ why it works the way it does!" He holds up his hand. "This here, it's mostly empty space, and electrical fields. There's teeny tiny quarks in there, and maybe they're some kind of strings vibrating in 11 dimensions, or maybe they're particles interacting with a field, or probably something else entirely."

    A shrug. "I think about what you're talking about every day. Maybe what I see as red is what someone else sees as blue. And there /are/ people who can hear colors and see sounds--or smell colors, or taste them. Nothing in the world is the way I think it is, and that's just how the world /is/. I think it'd be pretty boring if I understood it all."

    After a pause, "...I don't think dreams are stories at all, though. They're just dreams. We make up stories when we wake up, to make them make sense. We're processing information, to try to make sense of the world and our emotions. The Red King was doing that--now he isn't. Wonderland's worth saving, though. I mean, on a really personal level--what happens to Terry if it's gone? So, yeah, I'm trying to figure out how to save it, with logic, because that's what I'm good at, and maybe my ideas will be something nobody else thought of."

    He grins at the girl. "You got a better idea than having AI do the dreaming?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Once she's finished plaiting the two strands, she pulls out more strands, three this time, fingers intertwining to keep the strands separate. Her fingers move nimbly, threading strand over strand, then strand between strand, slowly and precisely forming an order from the chaos of her hair.

    "No, he WASN'T MAKING senSe oF HIs EMOTIOnS. HE WAS Dreaming SomETHInG Bright aNd hapPY AND COLORFUL bEcause hiS EMOtiONS werE TOO MucH." It takes a little while for the odd girl to frame the response, but who can tell if that's because she was thinking about the response first, or if her mind was wandering. Her attention appears to be, and her unmatched eyes once more roam about the room.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "What DO YOU THINK IT woULD BE LIKE iF YOu uNDERStood EvErythinG, VICTOR? IF YOU kneW when a sea quaRk woulD FORM OR collAPSE?"

    She seems to be more animated again, more enthused.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "IF YOU KnEW How TO PErfectlY measure the conjugaTE Variables Of A subATOMIC PARTICLE, OR measUre A paRT oF a wave functioN wITHOuT COllaPSING The eigeNSTAtes?"She ties of the second braid of her hair and pushes away from the bench she was leaning again, turning to face Victor. She starts to pace, back and forth, her head turning this way and that to keep facing him as she paces.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "SuPpOse yOu could SPEAK THE LANguAGE OF THE Crystal TREes who lived and dIed siX BiLLION years ago, never knowinG therE were minDS OTHER THan THEIR OWN?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "KNEW THE Names of tHE SEVEN GREAT FLESH-SHIpS OF The karnIAN Exodus, AND KNew the tHOUGhtS OF THe lanterN-WOrm THAt hAs liVed fOURTEEN thouSANd yEARS AT THE BottOM OF a welL In the bluE dESErt of eltak-4?" She comes to a halt in front of him, dwarfed by Vic's frame, looking up at him earnestly. "SUPPose you kNEW /EVErytHIng/, wouLD You be hAPPY ThEN?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "SUPPoSE YOU knEW youR DaughteR was deAd aND THere was nothiNG YOU CoulD do abOUT It. WOULd you embrACE ALL tHAT knowleDGE, OR WOULD YOU waNT a place tO hiDe FROM IT?"

    She sighs softly, her shoulders drooping. She blinks owlishly a few times and looks away. The enthusiasm, the animation, appears to have gone.

    She looks tired.

Victor Stone has posed:
    "I think for all the first parts? I'd be bored. Or I'd be God. Probably both. I think God is bored a lot, probably. And lonely." Vic frowns thoughtfully. "Pastor at Aunt Ruth's church used to say that that's why God created the universe. 'Cause He was lonely. I didn't used to think I believed that, but I get the idea. What's the purpose of life without connection? Without people? Friends and family and all of that."

    He eyes the odd girl. "So you think Wonderland isn't a dream, but an escape? Well, maybe to the Red King--but what about to everyone else? Terry's having to dream Wonderland. Like I said, in the books it was a dream. Or would you say--Alice was escaping her mundane Victorian life? Terry's escaping--"

    A pause. A slow, thoughtful frown.

    "Y'know, I wonder. Terry had to have had /some/ clue this might happen. He moved fast enough to save the place, he had a plan, right? But he didn't /tell/ any of us. So what's he escaping, with that? Did he think we'd be mad at him, or just really sad that he was gone? He did what he thought was right. What a hero would do. But he forgot we're not just heroes. We're /family/."

    He sighs. "He didn't let us help him." He gestures at the monitor. "We could've done all of this... /weeks/ ago. Figured out a solution, a backup plan. So what's gone wrong, that Terry felt he had to escape? What's he not... facing up to? Huh."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "SOMeTIMES PEOPLE ARen't lookiNG For an escapE, the odd girl says. She gives Victor a shy smile. "THEY Don't know thEY NEeD one. BUT ThEy'RE HAppier when thEy find it."

    Expressions flutter across the odd girl's face, one blending into the other so that none are ever quite distinct enough to make out. "I thinK YOu're sTARtING To uNDERstAnd."

    She takes a deep breath, and squares her shoulders. She straightens, seems to get a little taller, as if she's steeling herself for some great task. "I haven't decided what to do about Wonderland yet, Victor. And it's not just up to me. But you don't have long to wait, one way or another." Just for a few moments, just for those three sentences, her voice sounds almost stable. The quavering uncertainty is barely there and an odd itch at the back of the mind that Victor hasn't even been consciously aware of until now makes its presence known by its temporary absence.

    Her shoulders drop once more, and her eyes seem to dim.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "THanK YoU, " she says, her voice barely a whisper. "I THInK... I THink i wilL LEt you remEMBEr this. AS A GIFT. GOodbye, vicTOR STONE."

    She turns away from Victor, and starts to walk towards the lab door. After a half dozen steps she stops clumsily, and turns to give him a little wave. When she turns back towards the door, the odd girl shatters into a swarm of brightly colored C O G W H E E L S that rotate in jerky steps at the same time as they swoop together through the air in an intricate pattern of motion, the movement of each wheel giving Vic the impression of some connection to their individual color, though that connection feels just out of reach. He can sense behind the movement some magnificent flocking algorithm, something far more sophisticated than simple motion matching, with some hidden logic behind it. The thought comes unbidden to his mind that there must be some great meaning to the pattern, and perhaps if he could only /understand/ that algorithm, a very great deal might be revealed.

    The swarm of cogwheels dances and flows. It dances three times around Victor Stone before moving towards the door, but before it reaches there each cogwheel has faded into nothingness and gone.

Victor Stone has posed:
    Vic blinks at the cogwheels, and of /course/ he tries, desperately, to gather information, to understand... whatever this is. Something huge and monumental. Something important. Something... ephemeral.

    And then she's gone, and the cogwheels are gone, and Vic turns to frown at the monitor. Wheels turn in his own mind. Thoughts about Terry, and Wonderland, and what /he/ can do. Logic and science, sure, but--he's not just /that/ anymore, for the team. Right?

    He reaches over to turn the monitor off and gets up, flipping on his T-Comm. He needs to talk to Gar, and Kian, as soon as he can.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Part 5: Kaida

    St. Martins island, where Titans Tower is based, is definitely one of the nicer parts of Metropolis, and Metropolis is a nice city. Of course it is. It's the City of the Future, filled with gleaming skyscrapers and glorious parks, with good transport, low crime and plentiful jobs. Gotham City may be just across the bay, but in all other ways they're very far apart.

    That, at least, is the myth of Metropolis. The story that most of the people of Metropolis tell themselves. At least those who don't live in the not-so-shiny parts of Vernon or New Town, in the old, underdeveloped parts of the Tealboro docks, or worst of all in the left-behind area of New Troy, the so-called Suicide Slums. But even here in wealthy St. Martins there are homeless people.

    Of course many of the locals aren't even aware of the Eastside Homeless shelter, or pretend not to be. It's less than a mile from the gleaming symbol of hope that is Titans Tower, and is everything that place is not. Cramped, underfunded, uncomfortable. It does at least benefit from the fact that the Titans are not unaware of it. There are regular donations that come here from Titans Tower, some of them quite generous. It's not unheard of for individual members to be seen here, either to make sure there's no trouble, or just to help out.

    One Titan who has been known to help out here is Kaida. How could she not? The mouse-Titan knows all to well what it is to be overlooked, to find oneself lost amongst the feet of giants who seem to care nothing for your existence. Here's a place that exists to help such people.

    The center is run by, and largely funded by, a widow who everyone just knows as 'Ma.' Her husband, dead for a decade, left her with the proceeds of a successful career in corporate finance, and Ma has used that to benefit those who never had her fortune. She's not unwilling to get her hands dirty either; she may be the money behind the project, but she also runs the kitchens and cooks hot meals for those who take temporary shelter here, or those coming in off the streets. And she's always happy and grateful to see a member of the Titans drop in to give her a hand. Especially a certain mouse.

    There is time to kill. Donna and Raven have called for a meeting, to discuss the Wonderland situation, to see if some solution can be found that will allow them to recover Terry. Nobody really seems to have a plan, and people are on edge. Everyone's just /waiting/ and nobody's really talking to each other. The atmosphere in the tower today is a bit tense. Far better for Kaida to be at the shelter, seeing if she can help, than hanging around the tower impatiently doing nothing, like everyone else.

    Ma is behind the counter in the dining room, drying dishes. There aren't too many dishes to clean today -- the shelter has been quiet, and there was no big rush for lunch. There's not a whole lot for Kaida to do right now, and drying cloths are a bit large for the mouse to handle. However she's strong, and she's fast, and she can put things away really well.

    "You seen the new kid?" Ma says to Kaida conversationally. "Hasn't been in before. Hasn't said a word, I don't even know her name. She looks pretty young." Ma nods her head in the direction of a corner of the room, where a girl of around eighteen sits alone, eating some soup. She's small (though hardly Kaida-sized) and thin, her cheeks are sharp and her features are gaunt. She has a haunted expression on her face Kaida has seen before on the faces of the homeless here and in many other places, an expression that says they have seen too much. It's unusual to see it on someone so young. Her clothes are worn and mismatched, as if she's wearing whatever she has been able to find or steal, and she's barefoot.

    Her eyes are mismatched too, strikingly so. One is green, flecked with silver, the other blue. Her hair looks like it hasn't been brushed for days, but in another way it's quite unusual -- it's dyed in rainbow hues.

    "Why don't you go talk to her, Kaida?" Ma asks. "

Kaida Connolly has posed:
For her part, does indeed do well at putting things away. Unlike most mice, she's quite clean. She's used to handling stuff much larger than herself as well. She runs about doing various jobs for the shelter where she can and has become slowly less of a myth or a legend and more of a staple around here. It's still a surprise for many to see and she tends to try not to be too intrusive into the already odd lives of those around.

"Yeah, she seems like she's had a rough go of it." Kaida states and she squints at the girl. She's not really clear on what's been happening to herself. She's not even clear what it all means just yet. Sensing strange things about people, whether it be how rough or bad they might have it or if it is something else altogether. It's just very strange for her to seem to know if someone is...really bad off. To sense magic.

Frankly she has to wonder if Wonderland has had an effect and she's going mad. All the same, she puts a dish into the drainer and leaps off the counter to land on a nearby wall and scamper along it till she can hit a bench and rush along its back. She uses her usual circutitious routing that avoids where most people tread to reach her destination. Coming to a stop near her target, Kaida looks over the girl once more before leaping over to land near the small, comparitively, girl and simply plop down into an cross-legged sit, smiling up at her.

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd girl glances down at Kaida for a moment, fixing her with those unmatched eyes, and then take another spoonful of her soup, blowing on it gently before eating. Normally people are a little more surprised by Kaida, at least the first time. Here, it's not always so clear. Some are surprised, but quite a few have heard of Kaida already. She is getting a reputation, amongst the downtrodden.

    Then there are those who wouldn't be surprised to meet a talking mouse /anyway/. Or a talking anything, pretty much. Those ones are normally older than this girl, though. The mind is a resilient thing, and it usually takes a good few years for the burdens of a life without hope before the mind finally breaks under the weight. Drugs can speed that up though. It's hardly uncommon, here, that the people who visit have a drug problem. Everyone needs a relief from the pressures of the world sometimes, and these are people with a lot of pressures, and often very few avenues for relief.

    The girl takes another spoonful of soup, blowing on it with the same precise deliberation, the same careful motions. Kaida has seen it too many times, that kind of cautious precision of movement. As if they worry that their lives are so fragile that if they aren't careful they will break something that can never be fixed.

    This close, Kaida can observe more. The girl doesn't smell washed; again, not the most uncommon thing here. Her clothes are dirty, and there's a musty smell about her as if those clothes are really old. Perhaps they have been in some wardrobe somewhere for a very long time until recently. There's a damp and earthy smell about her, though it hasn't been raining. Perhaps she has been sleeping in a park. There's a strange, bitter note too; not the nicest smell for a nose as sensitive as Kaida's, something quite chemical-smelling, though she can't identify that scent. It's not all unpleasant though; there's the smell of the soup too, which does smell good, and there's an odd floral hint about the girl. Not the overpoweringly concentrated floral scent of a perfume, but the fresh scent of flowers. Chrysanthemums, oddly. The combination of scents is odd, and although some of the notes are not pleasant, the combination is rather neutral.

    Kaida's other, newer, and stranger senses are impacted too, with a tangle of sensations as complicated and multi-layered as the scent. The fear is there. The sensation of being /overwhelmed/ by the world. Of feeling small, and troubled, and without a path. Without answers. Those senses are all too familiar. Oddly though she lacks that sense of vulnerability about her that most who visit the shelter broadcast quite strongly. Everything about this girl says to Kaida that yes, she is desperate. Yes, she is downtrodden. But she is not weak.

    There is nothing about her that says magic, but there is something about her that says power. It's not something Kaida has experienced before. It's... odd. It's a little worrying.

    The odd girl finishes blowing on her soup, raises the spoon to her lips with the same exaggerated care, and eats. She swallows with a little gulp that seems to come with difficulty, as if eating isn't entirely easy for her. Then she looks at Kaida again. "HELlo kAIDa ConnolLY," she says, her voice soft but unsteady, wavering and shifting from syllable to syllable.

Kaida Connolly has posed:
Staring at the girl for a long moment as she eats, Kaida has learned that often the best thing to do is let the other person fill the void. She might be very talkitive around enemies and friends, but around the weak, the poor, the downtrodden and the generally put upon by society, she likes to listen. She knows that they will eventually speak if given the opportunity. Awkward silences are called awkward for a reason. What she didn't expect was for the person speaking to her to know her name. She stares for a long moment at the girl, tilting her head as she does before finally filling that silence herself.

"Hello, strange girl with strange eyes." She states simply enough and Kaida slides up to her feet like a puppet on strings. Her hands going to her hips as she leans forward and looks up at the girl, tilting her head one way and then the other.

"You know who I am but I don't know who you are. I wish I could say I'm surprised but for some reason I'm not." She shifts her mouth to the left and right, nose twitching as well as her lips as she continues to try to make heads or tails of this girl.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "YOu do know wHO I am," the odd girl disagrees. "YOU just dON'T KNOw tHAT YOU kNOw. MAybe thaT's WHY YOU're NoT SUrpRISEd."

    She stares at the spoon in her hands a few moments with a puzzled expression, as if trying to remember what it is. Eventually she decides to sit it down in the soup bowl, resting it against the edge with great care. She settles back into her chair with an air of contentment, like she had achieved some important task, and sighs softly before turning back to Kaida with a shy smile.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "I'VE bEEn talkiNG TO peOPLE,", she says. "I MeaN. . . I TALK To LOTS ANd lots AND LOTS OF PeOPle. BUT I MEAN TODAY I'VE BEEN TALkiNg to Lots of PEOPle. AnD Now i'm talKINg To yoU."

    She taps at the table top in front of her with her finger, and raises here eyebrows at Kaida. An invitation -- a place to sit where they can talk face to face. "I'VE BeeN TRyIng to mAke my Mind up AbouT somethING. MAYBE yoU CAn help me."

Donna Troy has posed:
    She smiles again, a sincere but shaky smile, as if she's a little nervous about the act of smiling. "WE shOUld talK ABOUT WonderLAND."

Kaida Connolly has posed:
A blink and Kaida stares as she is invited to go and speak. She moves to where the girl tapped, sitting down and she stares up at her. She considers what is being said and leans a little forward, watching the girl some as she speaks. It's an odd sensation for Kaida to feel what she feels, to then see what she sees. Kaida, in her own mind, often feels like she has too many senses now. It was bad enough when she could just smell or hear better.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that Wonderland wishes to speak about Wonderland with a mouse." She nods her head, "Which is under normal circumstances quite mad but under these quite normal which would be mad if it were not." She nods her head and then smiles a little at the girl. She looks closer at her and peers before looking around carefully at the people here before looking back to her.

"So, now that you've spoken, what do you wish to say?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    There's another smile from the odd girl, and this time it's a quicker, easier smile. A smile that's not just an attempt to break down a wall that might not even exist, but a genuine smile of happiness and amusement.

    "THAT'S noT really CORRECT," she says. "UNLess IT IS." She tilts her head to one side, eyes still fixed on Kaida, an expression of thoughtful curiosity. "I Guess tHAT'S WHAt I wanted TO TAlk ABOUt."

    "EVERYONE WAnts tO talk About TerRY," she says. Her smile vanishes, and she blinks, looking perplexed. "YOU probaBlY dO too, becaUSE he's youR frieNd. BUt I WANT TO talk about wondERLand itSELF."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "BUT IT'S NOT ABOUT WHAt I WISH To say. It's ABOUt whAT YOU have TO SaY. ABOut WhAt WONDERLAND REAlly..."

    She places her hands flat on the table in front of Kaida, fingers splayed. There's a strand of red wool wound several times around one finger, contrasting with her pale skin. "WHAT it really iS, OR WHAT it SHOULD BE,"

    Her eyes wander off to the side for a moment, and she chews her lower lip thoughtfully, before nodding her head to herself. Her eyes find Kaida again. "WONderland was THe red kiNG'S DReam, RIghT?" She says. " NOW IT'S TERrY's, and the hatter's, and tHe cATERPILLAR'S."

Donna Troy has posed:
    She leans back suddenly, her hands still flat on the table, and blinks rapidly. Her mouth makes a circle of surprise. " OH! I think i. . . I THINK I KnoW what I meant to SAy," she says. "SEE. . . DreaMS ARE for wHen peoplE are asleep, RiGHt?"

    She smiles again and leans forwards, elbows bent, her face coming close to Kaida's. " BUt suPpose yOU're stilL AWAKE? ISN'T wOnDErland even betTEr wheN YOU're awake? ISN't thAT WHEN IT's rEALLY nEEDED?"

Kaida Connolly has posed:
"Are they?" Kaida asks and looks around, "Dreams that is. Are they for the people who are asleep?" She looks back to the girl with a smile and shrugs, "I mean, I dream of a great many things, whether I'm awake or asleep." She gestures casually, shifting up to her feet and gesturing around, "Many people here are here due to dreams that are broken and yet they still stay true?" She sucks in a breath and then pauses and looks to the girl.

"I doubt philosophy is why you came here, though, right?" She asks and then considers, "Or maybe it is?" She then shrugs and then points at the girl, "You see, for a long time I've thought about Wonderland. You might not realize it but ever since I heard it was a real thing I thought on it. Why? Well, because if it is real than so must I be." She laughs and tilts her head before shrugging.

"You may not know it but a part of me always wondered if I wasn't just asleep in a hospital bed somewhere. In a coma, waiting ot wake up from this but the longer I'm here the more I realize that I won't wake up because I'm not asleep." She looks down at herself and then back up to the girl before shakinge her head with a sigh. She then shifts.

"While that might seem unrelated, I don't really think it is." She looks up to the girl and smiles, "Cause sometimes all you need is a name and a bit of belief." She then casually hums the Neverending Story song to herself and sits back down but this time with her legs splayed.

Donna Troy has posed:
"MAYBE YOU ARe iN a hospITaL BED, AND YOU ONLy THInk wonDERLANd Is REAL," the odd girl says. "BUt yoU REALLY ARE here ANYWAY. ANd rEALLY are you. I'D KNOw if you wereN't yOU."

    She stares down at her hands, fingers still splayed on the table, her eyes focusing on that knot of red wool tied around one finger. "DReams are reAL KAIDA," she says. "BUt that's a differeNT KIND Of dream"

    "I ThinK WhaT you REALLY Mean is /hOPEs/."

Donna Troy has posed:
The odd girl takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. "PEople END UP somewhere liKe tHis becaUSE THEiR HoPES are brOKen. PeOple lIkE yOU, YOU Try to help TheM ReBUild theIR Hope, " she says. "TERRY, too. AND PeoplE Like MA, They rEaliZE That sometiMES WHat peoPLe NEED IS A shelteR FrOM A WORLD WITHOUT HOPE."

Donna Troy has posed:
    She moves one hand to cover the other, her fingers playing with the knotted cord of red wool. "ANd maYBE tHAt's what wONderLanD ReallY is."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "THE RED KING createD wONderland OUT OF THE laNGuaGE OF DrEAM, BECAuse he neEDEd a shelTER, AND MA WaSN'T ArounD. HE NEEdED A sHELteR WHErE he could hidE from the truth. HIs dauGhter dieD, AND IT WAS TOo mUCH for HIM. So HE HID fROM it iN WONDerlAND, the odd girl tells Kaida. She raises her unmatched eyes, blue and silver-flecked green, to meet Kaida's.

Donna Troy has posed:
"BUT NOW HE'S Better. HE DOESN'T NeED It. AND TERRY ToOK his plACE to drEAm wonderland tO SaVE THE PEOPLE WHO LIVE There. But whAT ABOUt the SheltER? IT'S NOT A SHELteR anymore if it's only a dREAM. EVEN iF IT's a drEAM THAt's Real."

Donna Troy has posed:
    She holds Kaida's gaze unblinking for a while, then looks away quite suddenly, her eyes flickering to one side and then the other. She seems nervous. "I DOn't know iF thiS IS phiLOSOPHy kaIDa. BUt I KNOW It's importaNT."

Kaida Connolly has posed:
Leaning back on her hands, Kaida looks up and idly kicks her feet up and down as she leans back and then falls back, crossing her arms. She stares up at the sky, considering the sky beyond the ceiling even as she lays there before finally she nods her head.

"So, you want a momre permanent solution. Need one, really." She looks up slowly and peers at the girl. She looks closer at her, peering before finally she kips up with relative ease and stretches.

"Huh, coma." She considers that a moment and rubs her chin, "Shelter...hope." She looks to the side and then looks at the place they're in before she looks back at the girl with a hmm, "Dreaming!" She declares ands points up to the sky before pointing at her and grinning wide.

"What you need are not a dreamer but dreamers instead and why not offer those dreams up to those who could use them?" She tilts her head, "Is there a way to link Wonderland to others? Maybe even many others?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd girl frowns, and she takes a slow, deliberate breath. Kaida gets the sense she's feeling frustrated about something. She lifts her hands from the table top and rests her elbows there instead, balancing her chin in the palms, shoulders hunched over. "I WAnt the /rigHT/ SoLUtIOn kaIDa. I'M JUSt nOt tOTALLY SUre whAT IT Is."

    She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and shivers slightly. It's not cold. "Isn't it linkeD To A LOt oF peopLE ALreaDY?" she asks. "PEOPLe gO THere all THE TIme." She drums her fingers against her cheeks. "LIKE YOU DiD. OR bY READING a boOK. SInce tHAt booK wAS WRittEN, IT IS EveRYWHeRe."

Donna Troy has posed:
BuuuuUUT..." she says slowly, "THe univeRSe is a beaUTIFUL Place. BUt iT's ALSo An Ugly one. WOnDERLAND exISTS BECAUsE oNE PERson wAnTed a sheltER FROM The uGLINESS. ANd it crEATED BEauty. NOW everyONE IS concenTRATING ON THE BEAuty, bUt nOt wHy the beaUTy exISTed."

Donna Troy has posed:
    She takes her chin from the rest made from her hands, her shoulders straightening. "SHOULDN'T A sHELTER FOR THE LOst sTAY As SHeLter, ratHeR THAN BecomING ONLy a stOry?" The odd girl looks down at her hands, and starts fiddling with the band of red wool again. "I DON'T THINK EVErYONE Who's TAlking ABOUt what to do with wonderlAND REMeMBErs that."

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd girl looks over to where Kaida sits, and smiles again. "BUT I DO. AND I THInK you DO TOO. Because wE KNOw."

    The odd girl blinks a few times, and some of the light seems to go from her eyes. She reaches out for the spoon resting in her bowl of soup, and takes it carefully, using it to stir the dregs left in the bowl, swirling it around in circles the grow and diminish in size at random, the white of the bowl revealed momentarily at the spoon's passing before the thick liquid covers it over again. "THE SoUP TASteD NICE," she says plaintively. "SometIMES i like to INVENt FLAvors, but THEy nEver woRK AS WELL."

Kaida Connolly has posed:
"Well, then..." Kaid states and tilts her head before looking to the side at the soup. She stands up and walks over to put her hand on the back of the girl's hand and looks up at her, "Maybe Wonderland needs to stop thinking of itself as it once did and start thinking of itself as a shelter. As a truth." She grins a little, gentler this time, softer. She looks again at the soup.

"Wonderland is too busy being a dream, a shelter, a place to get away from the ugly truth of the world, that it is doesn't realize it exists." She glances to the girl and looks at her carefully. She looks down at herself, pulling her own hand back and frowning as she does. Looking at her hands in front of her as if she only just now realized something before she looks up at the girl.

"Stop being a dream and instead become one." She doesn't smile this time, just simply nods her head, "Hope." She states, "When is a dream not a dream?" She asks of the girl and then finally looks back down at her hands before looking up again. She holds out her hands to the girl.

"You ask me what to do with Wonderland? I say we teach Wonderland to dream."

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd girl lets go the spoon, and it drops back into the bowl with a clatter that makes Ma look up from the dishes, but seems content that nothing untoward is happening, and that Kaida has everything in hand.

    The odd girl gives Kaida a wide smile. "But as loNG as there are peOPle," she says, "THERe WILL ALWAYs be drEAMS. AND tHEre will ALWAYs be a NEeD FOR SHelTERS."

    "MAYBe, kaIdA. Maybe. MAYBe YOU'Re almOST rigHT." She lowers her hands to her lap. She looks tired, but oddly contented. "ALMost. MAYBe whAt we reaLLY NEED TO dO Is teaCH dreaM TO woNDEr."

    The odd girl's speech is strange. It's easy enough to follow the words, but the peculiar pattern of rising and falling tones makes it tough to understand where she's putting stresses. It all seems very random. Except... except right there, for no reason she can entirely fathom, Kaida has a very strong sense that the odd girl wasn't speaking of dream in quite the way Kaida had been. She seems oddly but utterly sure that what the girl said was Dream, with a capital letter.

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd girl pushes her chair back suddenly, and stands up. She gives a little hop and a bounce, and grins down at Kaida. "THank you kaidA," she says. "YOU hAve been VERY HELPfUL."

    The odd girl raises her hand and gives a little finger-rippling wave to Kaida, and turns away. She starts to walk towards the door, but when she has gone no more than a couple of steps her body shatters suddenly into a dozen brightly colored B A L L O O N S that dance on the air as if caught in a strong breeze. They circle three times around Kaida where she sits on the table, and then rise up, floating through the ceiling.

    Nobody else seems to notice.

Kaida Connolly has posed:
A smile as she watches the little display and Kaida shakes her head a little. She watches the balloons float around her before floating up into the ceiling and away. SHe considers that a moment before she considers the remainder of the bowl of soup. She watches the spoon before she stnads up and looks around a moment. She looks as if she wishes to say something to someone but then just shrugs and collects the soup bowl above her head and takes it back to the kitchen.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Part 6: Nadia

    The situation with Terry is a bit like an uncollapsed probability function. Yes, his status now, or at least last time anyone looked, was that he was laying beneath a tree, sleeping alongside the Hatter and the Caterpillar, wearing the Red King's Crown and Scepter, helping to dream Wonderland's continued existence. And yet nobody is satisfied with this. All the Titans are clear that this cannot stand, and that some other state of existence must replace this one. Nobody seems to know what, though. Nobody has come up with an answer yet to the problem of how to get Terry back without Wonderland just vanishing. And that's why Donna and Raven have called a meeting.

    Will some solution come out of the meeting? Like everyone else, Nadia has been putting her considerable intelligence to work looking for answers, but she doesn't have one yet. Maybe someone else does; maybe not. It's all about magic, so perhaps the reason for this meeting is that Raven has found some solution. When the meeting is over, will the Titans be any closer to getting Terry back, or will nothing come of it? When the box is opened, will the cat be back at the tower, or still asleep and dreaming?

    The future is unknown. Of course that's always the way. Everything is potential until it is measured. In some respects, Terry is Schrodinger's Cheshire, simultaneously existing in a state of permanent dream in Wonderland and of happy, Titan's based Vorpalry in Metropolis until his fate is determined.

    Really this meeting can't come quickly enough. The wait has been interminable, but the time is now. Time to open the box, and hope. Nadia is on her way, taking the elevator from the lab levels to the meeting level, and soon all will be revealed. Or nothing. It's strange to think that it's not really Vorpal who's in the box, but /Nadia/. The elevator is the box, and as she watches the digits displaying the floor number move slowly upwards, she's awaiting the opening of the elevator doors to collapse the wave function and...

    The elevator stops at the wrong floor, and the doors start to open anticlimactically, ruining the tangent. Someone with a terrible sense of dramatic timing has called the elevator and made it stop in the wrong place to let them on, but at least that means Nadia's got some company for the last couple of floors of the journey.

    Trying to predict who was going to walk through the elevator doors should have been a far simpler problem. There is a strictly limited population of options determined by who has security access to call the elevators (let along be in the tower in the first place), and you could easily weight the probabilities according to the floor it stopped at. The gym level would multiply the odds of it being Donna by several hundred percent, for example. Danger room would make for a higher probability of Kate. And so on.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Probability isn't everything though, especially where Wonderland is concerned. By a more rational calculus it would seem highly unlikely that the person entering the elevator alongside Nadia would be a girl of perhaps ten to twelve years old wearing a yellow pinafore dress, but on the other hand is it really that surprising? The girl looks even more like the Tenniel illustrations that Nadia does, except for the fact that Tenniel never drew Alice with the hair on one side of her head dyed in rainbow hues. And nobody ever said anything about Alice having mismatched eyes, one blue and the other green flecked with silver.

    "In case yoU'RE THinkiNG OF HUgging ME, don't." Alice says, as the elevator starts on its journey again. "I DON't liKe beING TOUCHed."

    It's not a voice you would think of Alice having. Soft and gentle, yes, but unsteady, wavering, tones rising and falling with no rhyme or reason. It speaks to Nadia of sadness, and uncertainty, and loss. The elevator keeps rumbling on its way.

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
    Nadia is surprised, her thoughtful reverie broken both by the stopping of the elevator and the entrance of someone completely unexpected. Unexpected doesn't quite cover it yet perhaps still strays towards expected given the events with Wonderland and the Alice attire and yet isn't /she/ supposed to be Alice now? Did some new incarnation of the really real Alice actually appear? But there are those differences. It is a million forking paths of conjecture that Nadia's mind races down in the split second before she actually opens her mouth.

    "Oh, hello." She smiles at the young girl. "And who are you?" Her manner is friendly enough and it seems a perfectly reasonable question to greet an Alice with. But something about the sound of that voice prompts her to follow up with "Are you okay?" And, "I don't usually hug people I don't know. Unless they ask for one." Even if her bar for knowing someone can be as low as having been introduced to them or exchanging names.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "BUt YOu Do knOW ME,"," the odd Alice replies. She gives Nadia a quick smile before turning to face the door, standing still and straight with her hands folded in front of her, resting against the apron of her pinafore, compressing the crinoline.

    The elevator passes a floor, and the lights from outside shine in through the glass in the elevator door. The light moves up odd Alice's form, illuminating her feet first and spreading upwards across her dress before hitting her face. It continues upwards until the shadow reaches her toes, chasing up the light, like the terminator racing across the moon's surface. When the last of the light flashes past odd Alice's face she seems momentarily cast into darkness until Nadia's eyesight adjusts.

    "DID You start to thInK You were the real ALice?" she asks, turning her head briefly to glance at Nadia with those unmatched eyes before looking back towards to the door.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "You ask lots oF QuESTIoNs. BUT YOU Never met mr. DODGSON. NEVeR told hiM YOUR exPerIENCEs in WONDERLAnd. YOu'rE noT tHE reason The jabbERWOck goT SO powerFUl."

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
    Nadia considers this for a moment watching the girl and just shakes her head a little. "Real is a word that everyone thinks they know what it means, but really almost nobody does. I come from a place where literally nothing was real. I spent years trying to study, categorize, and define what was real." Somewhere in the back of her mind she wonders why she feels compelled to explain all of this and yet there is something about this strange and if she is the real Alice then she probably at least owes her some explanations.

    "But the more you grasp at what is real, the harder real becomes to define. The real Alice as most people understand real has been dead for 150 years, her children's children have already passed on. So in that way I can't be the real Alice and neither can you. Yet, Alice has transcended who she was, the /idea/ of Alice lives on powerfully in people's imaginations, so much so there are many who do not realize she was a real person. And there is power in ideas, magic that defies quantification no matter how hard I've tried." Magic, that's a whole other tangent that she pushes aside for the moment.

    "So Alice lives on in this world, but Wonderland was still waiting for her as well. They still believe in her, believe with a fervency I find difficult to understand." Religion wasn't exactly allowed growing up in the Red Room. "They needed hope, and I wanted to give it to them. I first stepped into Alice's shoes to figure out how to help a friend, one who still needs help really, but it didn't go anything like I expected."

    By this point Nadia has started pacing as she recounts things. "At first I was trying to use falsehood as a tool, but in the process of masquerading as Alice I came to care a great deal for those people and I truly wanted to be their hope, but then there was a moment when the truth came to light and what do you think happened? Mary Ann accepted me knowing the truth and in that moment I realized something, a real truth that should have been in front of me all along but I could never see. I've always looked at Science as being neither good or bad but how people use it, yet much of what the Red Room taught me is the /same/. Real doesn't matter sometimes, or rather the ideas people hold of real is too narrow. Subjective reality can be used for good. That's what I realized. If I can help people, step into a role, and they accept it knowing the truth, there is no harm. That thing that's been haunting me, all of that training I endured can be used for good!" By this point Nadia is gesturing wildly as she talks. "So do I think I am the real Alice? Mary Ann and the Church of Alice think so and that is good enough for me."

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd Alice stands very still, stiff and formal, her hands still folded in front of her. She gives no sign of listening to Nadia as Nadia speaks, but when she has finished, she gives a small nod of her head and then flashes Nadia a quick smile. "It's fUNNY YOU SAY YOu haVEN't been abLE TO QUANtify MAgic," she says, eyes still firmly forwards. "BECAuse it soUNds TO Me like you JUst did. YOUr MIstake is onLY in tryiNg tO MEASURe It. THE reaL measuREMEnt is its effect."

    She turns her head to flash Nadia a grin. "KIND OF like a cAT IN a bOX," she says.

Donna Troy has posed:
"It doesN'T NEed A SCIENtist tO mEASUrE It. THE CAT KNOWS. POOR cat." odd Alice gives a momentary sad frown, then turns to the front again. Another shaft of light crosses her face in silence.

    " THERE is mAGIc in sTORIES. ANd in fLoweRs aNd butteRFLieS AND bEAutIful thinGS. ALSO In hatred anD IN LiES." Another shaft of light crosses her face. The elevator is taking too long, crossing too many floors. Does it matter? Probably not. That's probably magic, too. Odd Alice smiles to herself, and starts to hum a strange discordant tune as floor after floor goes past. After a minute or so she turns back to Nadia. "I suppoSe thAt means we'RE Both aLICEs."

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd Alice blinks at Nadia a few times before looking away again shyly. " MAYBe THat MEANs we shoULD DECIDe wHAt neeDs tO Happen to wONDerlAnd BETween us," she says. "BUT THAT Means uNDErSTANDIng WHAt wonderlAnd really is. WHAT its magic iS."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "YOu Know wHat i thINk? I THINK WonderLAND IS MOrE THAN a dreAM. THAT'S HOw It sTARTEd, suRe. BUT We cHANged THat, DIdn't WE? BY ExisTING."

    "SHOULd wondERLAnd rETURn tO What it wAS before us? A dream iNTENDed aS AN EScapE FROM THe red kING'S Trauma?

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd Alice studies Nadia closely, and her head starts to tilt slowly to one side, as if Nadia herself were tipping over and odd Alice was trying to keep here eyes fixed on her as she did. "OR BE THE dreAm OF WONDEr wE TURNED it iNtO, BY WonDERINg? THE CONFLICT tHAT CREATED Is gONE Now."

    She interrupts herself by jerking her head back upright before it tilts too far. "SO WE cOULD DO That." Her faint smile grows into a grin that's almost wide enough to be a Cheshire cats. "OR MAYBE... MAYBE IT shOULD BE BOTH."

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
    It takes Nadia at least a few moments to catch her breath after her animated speech and in that time she is listening as this other Alice tells her that in a way she has already figured out magic. She's still not sure she fully understands, but definitely getting closer. Comparing it to the cat in the box is certainly a helpful nudge in the right direction for her though.

    The cat in the box, Nadia's mind suddenly snaps back from the countless tangents to needing to find a way to free Vorpal from his current circumstances. The other Alice is already ahead of her though, discussing the fate of Wonderland. The words weigh on her mind because these are things she has thought about a lot in making sense of her own life, escape is something Nadia is intimately familiar with. For years Science was her escape and not just mentally. Joining the Science Class freed Nadia from the worst of the brutal training exercises and mental conditioning that the regular cadets had to endure.

    "Sometimes we need to escape." She begins as she gathers her thoughts. "Sometimes we need it to keep us safe, but we can't escape forever, not like that. Just like when the Jabberwock was defeated and the Red King made to face Alais, eventually we must face our problems by necessity. Escape I think is the wrong word, there is value in a refuge, a safe place to gather our strength. But I don't think Wonderland can stay forever the same any more than we can. Lessons are learned, bonds made, obstacles overcome, we change, we grow. The real world had long moved on from the moment that tormented the Red King so, but he remained locked there. I spent a good time wondering at the strange flow of time in Wonderland and I think that's it. He was locked in the moment of his pain, unable to face it, unable grow and become strong enough to." She shakes her head. "I think Wonderland should still be Wonderland, but I don't think it should be an Escape, static and unchanging forever, a place to hide. It should be a refuge of safety where one can heal and grow strong to face the thing they needed to take refuge from. So I guess that is both. Yes, both." She nods to herself seemingly satisfied with this answer. "Both and at the same time something greater than the sum of the parts."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "I Never SAid anytHING ABout STATic AND UNCHAnGING," the odd Alice says. "THAT Would be boRing. I doN'T Like bEING BORED. IT Means you hAVE TO Think abOut things yoU MIGHT NOT wANT TO THINK About."

    It does indeed seem that odd Alice's patience is limited. She'd been standing very straight and properly a while, but now her shoulders slump, she slouches a little, and her hands come up from being neatly folded in front of her to start playing with strands of her hair. She teases out a few stray wisps from the rainbow-dyed side of her head and starts twisting them and untwisting them around a finger. "The name nadiA suits yoU better thaN THE NAME alice," she says.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Odd Alice tilts her head, looking up at Nadia from the corner of her eyes. "ChaRleS WAS A nICE maN," she says. "AND FuNny. BUt hE Focused to Much on alice AND FORgOT ABOUT celiA. CELIa was my dOll. I Wish i KNew Where She wAS NOW, BUT I loSt her."

    "CElia was aLWaYS FUll of wonder. I LikED It WHEN I coulD see The wORLDS throuGH HER eyeS." She gives a soft sigh.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "THe Red kING COUld face His trAUMa when HE Faced lost aLAIs. BUT LOst CElIA'S hidinG. HOW Can I facE her, if she'S HIDing? WONderLANd can'T FIx thaT. BUt at least iT cAn be niCE AND BRIght ANd fuLL OF COLOrs. I LIke that. Odd Alice pouts sadly, her lower lip projecting with child-like exaggeration.

    It doesn't last long though. As changeable as the tones in her voice, she suddenly brightens. "THAt's wHy i tHINK WondERLand is still neeDed."

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
    Nadia smiles at the talk of the doll. "Celia sounds wonderful. I would very much like to meet her one day." But then she shakes her head. "That is not for Wonderland to fix though, only you and Celia can fix that. How did you lose Celia? That would be the place to start. And why is she hiding? We can't really fix others, as convenient as that would be. We can only talk to them and try to understand. That word fix itself is a problem, lock in place, make someone how /I/ think they should be. But they shouldn't be how I think they should be, they should be themselves. I mean, I can help and I always try to help, but growth, learning, real change has to come from within. I think Wonderland can help with that and I hope one day that Celia will come back to you. But I agree, a nice bright place full of colors that can make people feel better is a great thing in and of itself."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "I'M NOT GOInG tO tell you hOW i lost celia," odd Alice says. "OR Why SHE'S HIDInG. LotS Of PEoPLE HAve asKED me. BUt it's a SECrEt."

    She looks up at Nadia, peering between the tangles of multi-colored hair that twine around her fingers like a cats cradle, her lips forming a thoughtful moue. "I KNOW YOU AlwayS TRy to help. But hoPE ISN'T thE ANswER TO EVeryTHiNg."

Donna Troy has posed:
    She untangles her fingers from the twists of hair, which takes a little while. "WHAt DO you tHINK is morE IMportanT, NADIaliCe? SAVinG Terry, SAVING THE wondeRLANDERS Who live thEIR NOW? OR sAVINg WONderlaNd For what IT can bE TO people in thE FutuRE?"

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
    Nadia gives a little smile at the declaration of a secret, "Hope isn't the answer to everything, hope isn't even the answer to most things, but it helps. When we lose hope, we give up and then nothing changes."

    Nadia falls quiet again though at the question that basically amounts to a Trolley Problem. "That is a complicated question." She finally answers. "It depends on a lot of things like is Terry happy there? If he is then he doesn't need saving to begin with. I mean, I want my friend back, everyone does, but not at the expense of his own happiness. If he comes back and he's miserable then nothing is saved. But assuming he isn't happy.. the Wonderlanders want to live as much as we do. Their Church of Alice sprang from that, desperately seeking salvation from the Jabberwock that sought to destroy them. This is as much about saving them as it is Terry."

    She pauses as something in her demeanor tightens. "As much as Terry means to me, I've never been as callous as 'Mother' wanted. I can't condemn the Wonderlanders just to save Terry. The future people are just that, future people. We can worry about them in the future. So I guess if I had to choose, I would say saving the Wonderlanders is the most important, followed by Terry. Wonderland is an amazing place, one I want to explore so much more but, a place can't be chosen over people. However, really, I refuse to choose. There must be a way to save them all and we can find it. That is what I believe, that is what we fight for every day. People say all kinds of things are impossible, until we make them possible."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "ThAT'S WHAt HOpE /IS/, NADIA," the odd Alice says. "SO i'M harDLy sURpRISED YOU'D SAY THAt. BUT sometimes giving UP IS THE BEST THING to dO. BeCAUSE ThE ONLY CHangeS POsSIBLE Are CHanGEs fOr THE WoRSe."

    Odd Alice looks very tired. It's quite a sudden thing, but the energy is gone from her. How long have they been talking now? A few minutes, probably. During an elevator ride that should have taken a few seconds. How many times did the light of a floor come through the window of the elevator and flash past? Far more than there are rooms in the tower. Maybe it's longer. Much longer. That would explain why poor Alice looks so tired. "WoNDErlAND isN't a bad PLACE for cELIA TO hidE THOUGH,", she says.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Odd Alice glances up at the elevator's panel. The display shows that the elevator is about to arrive at floor number... it's not a number. The display shows a symbol containing blotches of clashing colors, moving in aimless, abstract patterns. She turns to face Nadia, smiling a shy smile.

    "THANK yoU ALiCE," she says. " PRObabLY YOu Be ALLOWED TO SHOULd remEMBeR This. BYe."

    The elevator comes to a juddering halt, and the doors open onto a space that has no visible walls, ceiling or floor. There is no sense of distance or scale. Images move across Nadia's field of view apparently at random; unfamiliar scenes of everyday life interspersed with impossibilities. A herd of blue unicorns run across a field of snow. A man stands with his face in his hands in an alleyway, the walls covered in ancient movie posters, repeating to himself 'It wasn't me. I didn't do it,' over and over. A shoal of enormous, brightly-colored fish swim through the air, trailing streamers of rope behind them, like escaped dirigibles. A woman covered from head to toe in mud sits curled in the corner of a room, rocking back and forth -- but only the room's corner is there, and around her is bright sunshine. An old-fashioned typewiter sits on a table, keys clacking as it types itself, the paper sticking out of it covered in endless repetitions of the word 'maybe'. A thousand scents assail Nadia's nostrils, and a thousand clashing sounds batter at her ears.

    It lasts just a moment though, and before Nadia's mind is overwhelmed, it is replaced by an undifferentiated whiteness.

    Odd Alice takes a step forwards, but before her foot can touch the ground again, her body shatters into a thousand multi-colored digits and symbols, forming meaningless and incomprehensible E Q U A T I O N S that flutter in the air. They swarm and swoop, spiralling three times around Nadia before flowing out through the doorway into the endless white.

    The elevator door slides shut, and the elevator continues on its way. The display is showing proper floor numbers again, and the meeting room is just three floors away.

Nadia Pym-van Dyne has posed:
    Nadia is raising one hand, about to protest. Her mind just can't accept a state where the only possible changes are bad, rails against it on a fundamental level. That would be perfection but in its perfection flawed, perhaps the only thing that might truly consider impossible or not want to be possible.

    But that impossibility gives way to a mind bending stream of the incomprehensible that threatens to overwhelm her mind. What is she even seeing? Just WHO is this other Alice? Instinctually she tries to wrap her mind around it all which only makes things worse and yet what is her quest to understand everything if she can't understand this? The mind reels, the other Alice becomes naught but flowing equations, equations incomprehensible to her, that equate to nothing.

    And then as suddenly as the whole strange elevator odyssey began, Nadia is alone in the elevator again on her way to the meetin, left with a whole lot to think about and half-wondering if someone (Janet) spiked her morning tea.

Harley Quinn has posed:
    Epilogue: Harley

    It's been a while since Harley has been to the tower. Not since ..., was it the 1st time Vorpal was gone? Or the second.., or...? Well, Harley has lost count! But she won't be waiting until answers come to her. So ..., she is going to the answers.

"At least there was no sobby farewell tape this time..." Harley is grumbling to herself while walking across the boardwalk leading to the Titan's tower, kicking a pebble away with another grumble, "Maybe I will just have ta chain him to his room next time.." then a quick shake of her head and she lifting her hands in frustration. "No! He teleports!" she continues to mull it over..

"Drugs? Nah, they wouldn't affect him ..." Harley takes another turn and looks to the tower in the distance, mostly ignoring the looks other people give her. Because it's not the usual to have the pigtailed blue and red haired clownette hanging around these parts!

Donna Troy has posed:
    Rumbling along behind Harley is the distinctive sound of rollerblades, clicking and clacking across the slightly uneven surface of the wooden boardwalk. This is Metropolis where strange things happen, especially this close to the Lair of the Terry, so it's not wholly impossible a pair of rollerblades would be travelling on their own, but no -- there's someone attached. A young woman with a somewhat punk attitude to her wardrobe, and a chaotic mass of hair dyed in a rainbow of pastels.

    Someone's stealing Harley's schtick!

    No, not quite. Harley always dresses better. Not just better in Harley terms, but to a higher quality -- even if Harley is wearing something torn, it's stylishly torn rather than just ragged from overuse, as this girl's outfit seems to be. She looks like she's dressed on the cheap. She may just be wearing whatever things she's found lying around the streets. And if Harley is perhaps not the most financially astute person, she would undoubtedly find some way, one way or another, to have better rollerblades than the ancient junk making all that noise.

    As the girl overtakes Harley, it becomes apparent she's wearing the oddest of perfumes though. There's sweat in there, and some mustiness, but that's probably just what you'd expect. On top of that there's an entire perfumery of additional scents, if you were to find a particularly demented perfumer. There's engine oil, and candy floss, some odd chemical notes, linseed oil, cheese and a fog of varying floral scents mingling together with a distinct hint of alcohol. It's very strange.

    As is her voice. "OH TheY PRObABLY WouLD eFFecT HIM HARlEY. THe right Ones, anyway," she calls out as she catches up and overtakes, her voice rising and falling and wavering wildly.

Harley Quinn has posed:
Roller blades!

The familiar sound has Harley automatically shift her head to look that way and ..., it's a sort of a copy cat! Hands on hips, blink blink. Then a big wide smile. "Ooooh, girl, love yoh style!"

Of course she does. It's sort of her own style after all.

There's a sniff, sniff when the girl is going past. Odd perfume indeed, which means just perfect for her tastes! Slum girl is racking up quite a few points in Harley's consideration. At least until that voice comes....

"You soundin' like one of the voices I sometimes heah. But not." Baby blue eyes watch the girl overtaking her and then it clicks.

"Hey, how do ya know what I was talking about?!" And she starts running to catch up with her!

Donna Troy has posed:
    The rollerblading girl spins sharply to turn to face Harley again, letting her momentum carry her along, and apparently trusting the other users of the boardwalk to recognize that she has right-of-way, and gives a wide smile at Harley. It's normal for people to be at least a little cautious when meeting the clown princess of Gotham - reformed she may be, but she has a reputation. Such considerations don't seem to have entered this girl's mind at all.

    "I SouND liKe one OF The VOICes lotSA PEOPLE HEAr!" she declares, a hint of pride in her voice.

    She turns through 360 degrees, neatly weaving past a startled pedestrian, and comes around to face Harley again. ""IT WAs obViOUs what YOU'D Be talKINg about,," she states. "yOU'RE GOIng tO that meetiNG. TO talk abOUT terrY ANd wondeRLANd."

Donna Troy has posed:
    She dips one toe to slow herself down, letting Harley catch up and keeping her speed closer to a comfortable walking place. "WhAT DO YOU thINK SHOULD BE DONE? I MEan i KNOW YOu want terrY BACK, but what abOuT WOndERLAND? YOU Were QUEEN theRE A WHILe, you've GOT To care abouT WHat haPpeNS TO IT If he WaKes up, right?"

Harley Quinn has posed:
Harley is taking it in stride. In fact the longer the talk goes on the more naturally the clownette speaks with the girl, almost as if she was used to these kind of talks. Lots of practice with her own voices most likely.

"Oh no, I am becoming too predictable.." She holds the back of her hand up to her forehead in a bit of a dramatic manner. And with the girl slowing down it means she can keep pace next to her, "Thanks for not making me run. It tires me. April says my hips are gettin' huge but you know. Us gals gotta make suwah we get all the sugar we can and..." focus Harley! Terry! Maybe she is getting a bit too comfortable with the strange girl.

"Queen one time, queen forever. Even if I am sure Queen Amy is doing a great work!" She did pick her up after all. "And of course I care. The week I was theah was one of the best in my life." a wide, open grin to the girl. "What will happen if he wakes up though?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd roller-blading girl tilts her head over to one side, then puts her hands together and pulls them apart. "POOf! All gOne!" she says.

    She picks one foot up off the ground and does a pirouette. "WONDerlAND STarted out as thiS guy'S DrEAm. BASicallY A vOluntaRY PARapHrenic PSYcHOSIs, using maGIc To shAPe a PART OF the aSTral plane intO A DREaM-WORLd reTREAT."

Donna Troy has posed:
    She gives a quick shrug of her shoulders. "HE GOT BETTER. SO TerRY had to take ovER DReAmING Wonderland oR IT WOULD ceASE TO EXist. Me tHoUGh, i tHINk that's wrong. IT'S NOt just a dREAm. PEople shOUld HAVe more reSPECT for DELUSIONS, DON't you ThInk?" She punctuates her sentence by blowing a bubble-gum bubble that changes color as it expands, and emits sparks when it bursts. A narrow tongue comes out to lick the remains of the bubble gum explosion off her lips.

Harley Quinn has posed:
"You mean Terry's father." Yea, Harley knows a bit of Terry's backstory apparently! She mulls it over a bit while doing the same kind of pirouette that the girl does. Without roller blades! Which means extra-effort. And more weird looks from the other people on the boardwalk.

But who cares about the normies, amirite?

"Puttin' that whole world in some guy's shoulders though... Eh, doesn't really sound right? I mean, not like it belongs to either his da, or to him does it? That place IS NOT just a dream. It was real ta me."

As for delusions being respected? That gets a big, eager nod out of the clownette. "Delusions can be interpretations of what's around us." is it Doctor Harleen talking now? "They are very real. Like you awhe to me now. Or our mind trying to cope and deal with the shit that comes down on us. But you sound different from my usual ones. I like it."

"What do -you- think should be done then?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    The odd roller-skating girl obviously doesn't care about the normies either. Actually they don't seem to care about her much themselves -- people are getting out of her way to avoid collisions, but they don't really seem to be paying her any attention. It's almost as if she's invisible. Or is it just that Harley attracts all the attention wherever she goes?

    "No no no! TERRY'S Dad wAS THE CHESHiRe cat. IT WAs THE REd kiNg WHO DREAMeD uP WONDERlanD," she says, beaming excitedly.

    "BUT THAt'S EXACTLy my poINT. WONDERLAnd WAs THE RED KIng'S MInD TRying to deal WiTh THE SHit tHAT CAME doWN ON HIM. It kept him gOING UNTil he Got bEttER."

Donna Troy has posed:
    She comes to a halt, then changes direction and skates in a wide circle around Harley. "WONDERLand'S A COol SToRY. BUt it'S MORe than a stORY."

    As her circle brings her around in front of Harley again, she grins and stretches out her arms, making like an airplane. "I KNEW YoU'D uNderstAND, HARLS. SEeya aT the meeTING!"

    She lowers her shoulders and picks up speed, continuing her circling of Harley. As she finishes the second circuit, she flashes Harley another wide toothy grin, and explodes into a cloud of dozens of bright, rainbow-colored lights in the shape of c a r d - s u i t s that continue the circling, diving and dancing around each other like a swarm of gem-like insects.

    On the third circuit, the colored lights swoop upwards and vanish high into the sky over Metropolis.