1615/A change of plans, a change of direction

A change of plans, a change of direction
Date of Scene:	11 May 2020
Location:	Lobby - Titan's Tower
Synopsis:	Techno and Red X meet the Titans proper. Words are exchanged, tempers flare, and things come together.
Cast of Characters:	Samuel Morgan, Damian Wayne, Terry O'Neil, Rachel Roth, Donna Troy

---

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    The battle has been fought. The monster has been slain. Superman, it seems, is alive. Much of what happened in the last few hours has come as a complete surprise to many people. Plans had to be changed...

    Not least of which the plans that Red X and Techno had been hatching for the Titans. Their strategy, a complex series of interactions, had been overtaken by the sudden threat to Metropolis. Saving the city had to be the top priority, and so plans had to change.

    After the battle, now that Techno has been properly invited to the Tower for a pizza party to celebrate, he peeled off on his motorbike to 'go deal with something first'. Honestly, it's the kind of thing someone says when they have no intention of actually showing up. So people can be forgiven for expecting that he's simply decided not to accept the invitation.

    Until he shows up on the external cameras, bringing company with him.

    This time he very ostentatiously presses the doorbell and waves at the camera before letting himself in. The blank faced helmet of the suit gives nothing away about identity, expression or even intent.

    Once inside, he assumes a posture and position very familiar to those who had seen him there before, in the flesh. More than likely, he's making a point.

    "You'd have been proud of them today." he mentions to his companion, offhand, through the distorted external speaker.

Damian Wayne has posed:
     The other perpetrator of the vandalism on the Tower approaches, having flown here on Goliath, who seems perfectly happy to explore the waters around the island. Red X had been absent from the fight. A battle in which he had wanted to be there. Circumstances... required he be somewhere else.

  He walked up to the tower with the communicator he took off of Nightwing. The changes in their plan required them showing up.

  Red X's eye lenses looked to Techno, and responds, voice cloaked in modulators. "I look forward to your report, then." His answer was succinct, to the point. He knew what was probably about to happen, and he was relatively uneasy while doing such.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
The Cheshire cat is presiding over the pizzas. He is mostly unscathed, except for a bandage on his right arm from a wound that was sustained in the field- already cleaned and dressed. "Gar says he's sorry but he's a little tired- but we can party on. I'll save a box for him, or so." he had said over the comms. When the new arrivals come through the door, he raises an eyebrow at Dude and his companion. "Well, look at what the cat dragged in. Which one of you is Homestar Runner and which is Strongbad?" he asks, with good humor rather than mockery.

Then he grows serious. His green eyes flit from one to the other, and settles on the one with the red X on their mask, "I guess you need no introduction, since you so thoughtfully left your monogram precede you. It is very kind of you to follow suit," he sits down on one of the couches, leaning back slightly in a pose that is full of feline insouciance. It was, of course, a wild guess, but... c'mon. "However, I'll point out that this is a pizza party and it is a fact universally acknowledged that it is impossible to eat pizza through a full-faced helmet."

Rachel Roth has posed:
    The doors slide open to a tower alight with softened fluorescence- The kind that don't suck souls- within the lobby are a number of pizzas, freshly delivered. More, indeed, than the number of people likely to eat them- and, yet, they'll all disappear soon enough.

    Within the lobby itself, though, stands a figure that is not at all pleased. She should be slinging some shade at Terry- she should be calling into question the decision to use the tower the way it had just been. Instead, the furniture of the lobby has moved on its own- parting like the red sea to make a path between herself, at the foot of the elevators, and the door.

    With her hood up, all that can be seen of her face is the glowing of her eyes, and the scowling mouth, black-painted lips turned down in an expression that might just strike fear into those that know her well enough.

    The two entering don't know her well enough. Instead of stepping into a happy pizza party, Red X and Techno step straight into a haunting gaze, the line of eye contact unbroken by so much as a blink- and Raven seems to preternaturally know exactly where to put her eyes.

    "Welcome to Titans Tower." she states, her voice not raised in volume above anything more than speaking- yet it seems to echo from the very walls of the tower itself, twisting in the air all around them, but focusing on the doorway.

    "Have you brought more paint? Or is there some other reason why you are here?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    There's a blur and a gust of wind, and Troia is standing next to Raven. You can tell that Troia is not a speedster because the blur was visible, but it's still /fast/. Clearly there's a message there.

    There's another message in the way that, post blur, she's casually standing there coiling and uncoiling a golden lasso that looks very like Wonder Woman's. The dossier Damian had from Dick said nothing about any connection between Troia and Wonder Woman - but then Troia left the Titans before Diana came to light publically, so that's no surprising. "Maybe they came to offer to paint the other side for use Rae?" Donna says.

    "Or who knows. Maybe they came to apologize."

    Donna inclines her head slightly towards Techno. "I hear you helped with the fight out there," she says. "Your way of proving you're more than just a petty vandal?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Fair. Very fair." Techno begins, the voice modulator losing some of its edge as the settings are changed, allowing actual inflection and intonation to come through. Because what he's about to say needs to be delivered carefully, and with tact. Years of training, a decade of experience, and he already knows this is going to be difficult. Slowly the suit's hands come up in a placatory gesture, staying where he is, taking the warnings for what they are. He's been invited, but that invitation only goes so far.

    "Yes, we tagged the tower. That's on us. We had our reasons for it, and even on later reflection I think they were good reasons. But all of those reasons became moot when Metropolis needed saving." Slowly Techno lower his hands again, looking from face to face. "Saving people always comes first. Even if that means you need to come make a very awkward apology to people later."

    "So, real talk. Time to be adults about this..." In a smooth gesture, Techno reaches up and removes his helmet, shaking out his blonde hair afterwards. This is, as might surprise some people, unmistakably Sam... the kid that had been here before, and who then appeared far less coherent. This Sam seems perfectly composed, and with an actual expression on his face. "... My apologies for the vandalism. But we thought that you needed something to galvanise you, something that was important enough to rally behind. A symbol or action that you could use to act as a team, and put the past behind you. I think after today, we're well past that point. Don't you agree?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Red X looks towards Vorpal as he comments, the helmet not allowing his emotions show at all. "I do not eat pizza."

  Yeah, great start there. He doesn't raise his hands in any sort of placating gesture. Only keeping them at his side. The helmet not allowing for any sort of tells to come out. "Seems that the shadows did that in spades." He says, very neutral. His own helmet remains on, for a very specific reason. Removing it reveals both who he is, and would also allow people to connect the dots to Batman.

  "The plans had to change, and Metropolis had needed saving. True emergencies supersede fabricated ones."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Regardless of what Raven might say, Terry O'Neil is no fool. When the lobby furniture Treguna Mecoides Trecorum Satis Dees itself into opening a path for Raven, that it is only a dangerous short hop away from Raven putting herself in an Avada Kedavra mood and, perhaps, Azarath Metrion Zinthosing someone. Making glib comments at such a time, then, might me dangerous. Instead, a tiny Rabbit Hole opens and Vorpal fetches the small pitcher of lemon tea he had left in the freezer to cool. After Techno and Red X speak their minds, he takes a sip from the pitched and watches, carefully.

Rachel Roth has posed:
    "You mean to say," she begins, "That you actively blundered into a situation you knew nothing about, to attempt to stabilize a team that had already stabilize, using methods that you learned from people that shouldn't be attempting to galvanize iron, let alone -people-."

    She is taking the first steps to approach, then, but as yet, her hands have not left her pockets. Nor, has she blinked. "Let me be -abundantly- clear. You thought -wrong.- The past was behind us. The tower acts as a memorial and rallying point. The people within -learn- to act as a team before pretending to be as much. What you -did- do was deface a memorial, and make yourselves look like fools, in -attempting- to manipulate the Titans."

    The -tone- of her voice is monotonous, and the veil over her anger is not thin. What the two of them do with masks, Raven has done with control.

    "I agree that we do not need those outside to pretend that they are the balm that fixes the Titans. So tell me what you believe the next step to be?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "You galvanized Cyborg into modifying a horde of roombas into window cleaning bots," Donna says, grinning wryly. "If your intent was to ensure the tower had cleaner windows from now one, job done."

    Donna glances from unmasked face to masked face and back again. "As for being well past that point, Samuel Morgan - as Raven says, we already were. Perhaps if you had thought to approach us sensibly the way others have, and actually /talk/ to us rather than wasting our time with ill-informed schemes, you would have known that. " She's not exactly holding back, but clearly Donna is less angry than Raven. Or she's doing the Good Cop act.

    She coils her lasso and hangs it from her belt, and there's a message there too. "Still. As I said, at least we'll have cleaner windows from now on, so there's a silver lining to every cloud, yes? Or at least a Windex unbeatable streak-free shine to every window." Donna finally breaks into a smile. There's something slightly surreal about her quoting advertising slogans in that smoky Themysciran accent.

    Donna nods her head to Red X. "So, you're new here. I am Troia. This is Raven and Vorpal. Samuel already introduced himself, why don't you do the same? Also you might want to return Nightwing's T-Com, while you're here. Yes?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "We live and learn." Sam responds to Rachel's assessment, his own tone neutral, keeping the helmet of his suit under his right arm. It's a decidedly professional pose. "When I visited the tower, I got the impression of a team trying to overcome a great trauma. The impression of a team in disarray. I was wrong about that. Wrong about one of those things, at least."

    To show exactly how wrong, he walks slowly away from where he's been standing, and moves to deposit his helmet on the table holding the pizzas, looking over to Vorpal with a smile. "Save me a few slices, will you?"

    He's leaving the helmet there as he walks back, running a gauntleted hand through his hair, his expression changing again to something altogether more... contrite. "The tower was the first step of the plan. After that would have been a series of challenges, false leads, surprise actions... things requiring the team to work together. There was never going to be any actual danger to anyone. You want me to say that I think that's the wrong way to do it, but I can't. I won't. I believe it was... at the time. Times have changed. I've got to admit, it's likely I have changed in the last few years. But here's the thing..."

    Now he's back to being professional, meeting both Raven's and Donna's gaze. "Today, I joined the team to fight an enemy we've never seen before. And what I saw? I saw a team that is made up of talented, bright and powerful individuals. People who clearly get along well, and understand one another. But people who are prone to do their own thing. When I stepped in, nobody was coordinating. So I did. I coordinated."

    From Raven, to Donna, back to Raven. "That is what I propose to do. Coordinate. Not take over. Not assume leadership. Coordinate. To provide guidance, in the field."

    A nod to Donna's lasso. "If I recall, that's supposed to be able to compel me to tell the truth? Then do it. See if my intentions aren't pure. Ask me my intentions, when you know I can't hide the truth."

    Then a side nod to Red X. "I've given you my identity. Not everyone is as free with that. My companion here will choose for himself if he wants to reveal it, but I understand that doing so might be problematic. I trust we can all respect that right?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "-You- turned it into a mausoleum, a grand symbol of your so-called failure." Red X was ready to get into Raven's face, he had no fear. "We had a goal, of reviving this place from being a melodramatic statement to a base of operations. To be a team that Metropolis needed, instead of a cathedral where no person dared to tread."

  Sam just HAD to take off his helmet, didn't he. The young assassin pulled out the T-Com and tossed it underhand, rather gently to Troia. "Red X." Well, an apt name, at least. "What you need to know about me, right now, is that until three months ago, I was the third ranking member of a global terrorist organization by the name of the League of Assassins. And I stole that off of Gotham City's most capable hero, behind Batman.

  Just how he did that, would be something they would have to ask Nightwing. "Working as a unit, is what I did since I could walk. Mission strategy, game theory, tactics and strategy." He looked all around as he spoke, not mincing his words, succinct.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"So what we need to know is that you are a backstabber and a thief?" Vorpal says, calmly setting down the pitcher on the floor next to the couch. Then he thinks better of it and puts it on one of the nearby coffee tables, in case someone says something out of line and Raven rearranges the furniture. "Your plan to bring cohesion to this team was to engage us in wild goose chases and false leads. Namely spending our time and resources on a game that could have been spent on people in trouble. You see where I'm going with this."

The Cheshire looks from one to the other, and points a finger at Sam, "Although I do give you credit for your apology," because, as a matter of feline pride, apologies are hard, excruciatingly hard- every time Vorpal has to apologize, Voldemort makes a new Horcrux, "but for all the considerations of your strategic approach, you seem to have forgotten that you're not dealing with automata but with people. People who, incidentally, are less than keen to look favorably when being deceived."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Not deception, training." It's a smooth rebuttal, but clearly Sam seems to think it's an important distinction.

    "An exercise is pointless if we were to tell you beforehand. You wouldn't be surprised, you wouldn't be showing your best. And we needed to see what you are capable of when pushed, when a little bit angry, and when you're not quite sure of what's going on." After that, he shrugs. "Call that harsh, but it's effective. As I said, let's be adults about this. This is a team of heroes, it should be able to handle a bit of pressure. I'm not going to apologise for that."

    A hand comes to rest on Red X's shoulder. It might even be giving that shoulder a little squeeze, it's hard to tell really... there's clearly a capacity for great subtlety here. "Ask yourself why we used that communicator? The answer you come up with will probably explain a great many things. But some things may have to remain a mystery a bit longer."

Rachel Roth has posed:
    "-Our- failure. All of us. Who bit off more than we could chew, who thought we were ready when we -weren't-." There is a pause, as Raven's attention shifts from Red X to Sam. "You're not wrong. Coordination is good. There are a number of new heroes who need help working as anything other than just themselves. But, Coordination requires Trust. Your 'exercise'," she states, her eyes narrowing slightly, "Is a grave testament to how little you know in how to -build- that trust. Until you learn that, and until you -earn- it, I see no reason to do much more than take your opinion under advisement. However, you won't have a chance to do so unless we truly welcome you to the tower."

    However, that is said, quite -directly-, to Sam. Her attention shifts to Damian. "But, -you-," she begins, finally pulling a hand from her pocket. "Of you, and -to- you, I will speak later." she comments, before slipping her hand back into her pocket.

    "The membership grants you access to pizza. It also grants you a room, but I want you to understand, we do not need a lasso to know your intentions- nor do masks keep your secrets- but instead, common courtesy. Have care to -reflect- that."

    How much can she tell? How much is bravado? That isn't clear- but those eyes of hers only give the impression that she may not be bluffing.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "It was the wrong way to do it," Donna disagrees with Sam. "Nor can you know there would be no danger to anyone." She gestures towards Vorpal. "As the cat says. Did you think that proving ourselves to you was the best use of our time, rather than saving people from real dangers? Or the danger to /yourselves/ if you had succesfully convinced us that you were a threat? Perhaps not. It seems obvious you underestimated us. "

    Donna glances down at her lasso, then up again. She gives Raven a knowing smile. "This isn't actually Wonder Woman's lasso," she comments. "My lasso is different. As are my methods for determining truth." She doesn't seem any more ready to elucidate that point than Raven.

    Donna catches the T-Com as Damian throws it, and gives him a nod. "Since you could walk? You must have had a hard life. I was only trained from the age of six, and there were those who thought that too young - including me." She tilts her head to the side. "Still, I had a lot of catching up to do. Not least that I am sometimes now expected to lead those who have been training for literally thousands of years. It can be a struggle to be accepted in such a role by those with far more experience than yourself, hmm? Perhaps you and I could share notes some time."

    Donna glances to Raven, then back to Sam. "She's not wrong, either. You were out there with some of our new members. They do not yet know how to work together. Beast Boy was leading the field team, and he's not a strategist. Vorpal, you were there. What did you think of Techno's field co-ordination?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Oh, I expect you to mistrust me. Quite frankly, I'd be disappointed if you didn't." The smile on Sam's face may or may not be genuine. Really, only two people here can tell. "But as you say, it needs to be earned. Unfortunately we never had a chance to start before the extra-dimensional creature decided to come snack on Metropolis. All methods seem wrong if they are suddenly changed to deal with a greater threat. Again, I won't apologise for it."

    That latter part seems mostly aimed at Donna, but he's letting it go now that the conversation is moving on. "My companion and I share a great few similarities. Including how we were trained. But that's a conversation for a different day."

    "Membership pizza sounds great right about now."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "In war, there are casualties. The goal moves forward. Get better, do not make the same mistakes again. Wallowing for years does little to honor those who've fallen." Red X says plainly, matter of factly.

  His attention shifts to Donna, then responding with a simple nod. He was still on the defensive from Raven's...Raven-ness.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"He performed well. I must observe that we weren't coordinating as a group because we were taking care of things that needed to be done first: Getting Lois to Zatanna without her dying, getting enough mirrors in action..." he pauses and looks at Donna, "Incidentally, do we have any fund to dip into to pay them back for that? Those were pretty expensive mirrors. Unless they have an insurance policy that covers Acts of Cheshire. But I digress."

"Mind you, it's not as if the team is rudderless. Your expertise and guidance during the lab attack allowed us to move effectively. We disabled their getaway vehicle, saved injured people, kept a helicopter from being blown up, and captured one of two mercenaries. Not to mention that I got to ride the other one until he was screaming like a loon and then slammed himself into a wall, which admittedly was fun." Vorpal shrugs and crosses one leg over another, leaning back on the couch. "The old members snap into teamwork with each other like a well oiled machinery. It's clear that us newbies are the ones that need the training the most."

His green eyes look at Red X and he raises an eyebrow. And then he adds, in afterthought, "I meant old as in membership status. I didn't mean to imply you were decrepit."

Rachel Roth has posed:
    Raven's attention lingers on X for a period of time. If the intensity of her gaze could get any moreso, it does- there is... An oppressive presence to her, altogether. There has been since she arrived, but it's only when Damian calls it a War that Raven's distaste intensifies enough to focus that aura.

    "It is not a War." she declares. Succinctly. "There -are- casualties, but we are not expendable. We are not soldiers. We are -people.- If you dissociate the reality of that as we do what we have to... Then I know -exactly- which legacy you're living up to."

    Regardless, Raven sinks back into herself spiritually, if not physically. "Because that mindset is how we end up -better.- Otherwise, we are doing little more than, for example, training child assassins." For some reason, Raven seems to be looking at the both of them when she says that. Sam had basically declared that they had the same upbringing, after all. The gaze is pointed, the words intended to cut- as if she's aware that the truth is under the surface.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "You apologized for painting the tower already, Samuel. I'm not asking for an apology for your misunderstanding. Only that you learn from it." Donna rests a hand very lightly on Raven's arm as she speaks.

    "Everyone needs training, Vorpal. That never stops, and I know people who've been doing it for thousands of years. It also helps to have field leadership. In the old days that tended to be Nightwing. I guess now that's me, but I'm not always going to be there. Particularly as the team is expanding. We'll need people who can do that. Who can call the shots quickly, and get those calls right more often than not."

    Donna gives Rae's arm a gentle squeeze before removing her hand. "This is not a war, and we are not soldiers. Very well said. Yes we are warriors, but we are also civilians. And in some cases, very young ones. We are people, and most importantly, we are friends. You two may think you know all there is to know about working with a team, but there are things that training will not teach you."

    " The Titans worked so well because we knew each other so well, because we are friends, because we /trusted/ each other. If you two wish to become a part of what is here, you'll need to be prepared to learn our way of doing things. That doesn't mean we're not willing listen to what you have to bring to the table. The strength of a team comes from what each individual member can teach the others. But if you two think that your way is inherently superior and that you will mold us in your image, you'll be disappointed. We are not assassins."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Quote the Raven, Ouch! That wasn't just a remark with a sting in it, that one was armor piercing, and it went right home. For a second Sam's eyes narrow, and the nearby lights flicker for just a moment. His right hand curls into a fist, as evidenced by the clinking of metal against metal when the tips of his fingers meet the armored palm, but with an effort of will the teenager forces the surge of anger down. Half a dozen remarks queue up for consideration, each more acerbic than the former, but reason, training and above all discipline override the impulse.

    "Some of us had further to go to end up better. That doesn't make the achievement less valid, it just means we had to walk a longer, darker road. A road that those that have walked it wouldn't want to wish on anyone else... right?" It's not so much a return shot as a friendly lob over the net. That ball is now for Rachel to play.

    "But you are wrong about one thing. Even if you don't consider yourselves soldiers, that is what you are. That's what you've chosen to be. Not in the line up for parade and salute the flag while jumping to orders sort of way, but in the truest sense of the word. They say that a soldier is someone who fights for those who can't fight for themselves. That a soldier fights not to kill what's in front of them, but to protect what's behind them. Deceive yourself any way you like, but you are soldiers. For justice, for freedom, for the protection of the innocent. That's what a hero is." A pointed look around, from face to face, including even Red X in this one. But this is a long speech to give while standing still, so he starts to move, armored boots thumping as he walks.

    "Those that oppose you won't care that you don't consider yourselves soldiers. They don't care about age, or innocence. Every team bonds through friendship in some way. I've had pizza with other people, shared jokes, listened to really bad music on the way back from a mission, that's what a team is. Those people are dead now. We accepted that. We had to." And so he comes to the table housing the pizza pies, and his helmet, putting a hand on the latter while gesturing at the former.

    "As Salmon Cat pointed out, you can't eat pizza wearing a helmet. That means at some point, you need to take off your armor to live your life. This team, I see, does that very well. And when the armor is back on, the team even works well together to defend itself. I'm not saying it's rudderless, or leaderless. I'm saying that you're improvising really well, but you don't have anyone that has been properly trained to direct, or manage. We're not here to reshape you in our image, that would be horrific."

    But he does reach for a slice of pizza with his armored hand, folding it in half like a proper New Yorker. "Sometimes, you need someone who can eat pizza while still wearing some of their armor."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Directing and managing are alternate words for leadership," Vorpal observes, tapping his heel with a claw as he thinks. "And there's a funny thing about leadership. Back in Wonderland we had someone who thought the whole world should follow everything she said because she knew best. After all, the fact that she had remained in power for so long demonstrated beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was fit to lead." He looks at Techno and then at Red X. "No one was very eager to follow her, until she threatened them with decapitation. And even then, she was never a good ruler because she assumed she was always right, and made sure nobody had a chance to argue."

He looks at Donna and Rae, and then back to the pair. "Leadership in the Titans isn't given but ultimately earned. This means that whomever does it will know how to treat us as warriors /and/ as people." He stands up. "And frankly, I'm more comfortable with the idea of multiple experienced people in leadership roles rather than one central leader. But that might just be the Wonderlandian in me. We ever do so dislike crowns."

Quick glance at Donna. "Except Queen Hippolyta. She's cool."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Where Sam had control, behind the helmet, Damian has much less. The rage in him is barely contained, with his hand reaching slowly for a pocket on his belt.

  "Funny. You think you have me pinned, yet you know nothing." His imagination running wild on that one. It was the only thing keeping him from going on the attack. "Techno." He says, flat and even. He was about to just leave. "Between Gothic Princess and The Mad Hatter's assistant, I do not see any reason to continue. This one." He motions to Donna. "At least is capable."

Rachel Roth has posed:
    The squeeze from Donna is comforting, but Sam tries to reinforce Damian's point. That, she can't abide. Where her claws, both meta and physical sink, they tear. "A mask has had pizza. A shade has had shared jokes and listened to bad music. A happy child might have once done these things, but that child was crushed under the weight of the word soldier, under the responsibility of the -idea- of war."

    Her head rocks to one side- the aggression, the anger from Damian- the helmet can't stop her from perceiving it, and she understands how shallow his veneer might just be right now. "I don't think either of you understand, so I will be as clear as I can." Eyes like slits- but they're not red, not yet. In fact, though Donna might still be on edge about it, Raven is very much in control. "People, not soldiers. Only -then- can you make the right decisions, only -then- can you feel the way you should, and only -then- can both of you start to -heal.-"

    She pauses, then, focusing on Damian.

    "Even if you don't think you need to."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna steps lightly forwards. It's not as if she's imposing herself between Raven and the two, that would be putting it too strongly. She's just being slightly nearer to them than Raven is.

    "A soldier fights in an army, and their job is to obey orders. We are warriors, yes, but not soldiers. We fight only for what we believe in. We follow, or lead, by agreement. Not because of rank, but because of trust and friendship. Perhaps this idea is unfamiliar to you, perhaps in your training and your upbringing you were not encouraged to see the value in friendships." She glances meaningfully from Techno to Red X. "But also I sense that it is something you have begun to discover for yourselves, even if you don't entirely realize that yet. Techno, you act as the spokesperson of the two of you. Yet it was Red X's symbol that you painted on the tower. I wonder of the two of you, which each deems the 'leader'?"

    Donna steps back, again just a small movement, to put herself beside Raven. Her hand finds Raven's arm again. "Techno, Red X. It's not in doubt of your experiences or your abilities that I say this, but you do not know the full story in front of you. Raven sees far more than you could imagine. If you are willing to listen to her, there is much that you could learn - do not underestimate her insight. And I have been trained to lead for twenty years, by someone who has millennia of experience." She flashes a quick smirk to Vorpal. "Yes Vorpal, please don't fanboy about my mother though, it's embarrassing." She turns back, grinning slightly. "Which makes me the princess, not Raven. I guess could wear black lipstick if it makes things easier."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Discipline is sometimes hard. No, scratch that, discipline is always hard, that's why it's so hard to obtain and even harder to keep. It takes practice, it takes sacrifice, and it takes willpower. Sam's eyes glow a bright blue at the continued assault from Raven, but there is no other response to what is, under the circumstances, rather extreme provocation.

    "Note that I didn't threaten to decapitate, or defenestrate anyone." Sam mentions to Terry just before he eats that slice, looking between the others as the conversation continued. Of course he notices Red X's hand going towards that pouch. It's not like he hasn't restocked after the battle either. Still, he takes his time to finish what he started eating before picking up his helmet, keeping it under his arm like before.

    "I have to disagree there." Say what? He walks out from behind the table, motioning as he goes. First to Terry. "This one thinks on his feet. Mad as a hatter, but very useful when properly guided. But I doubt he's willing to listen to any guidance unless something is trying to bite his ears off. No discipline. But we can fix that."

    Then he motions to Raven. "This one... She cares. More than anyone else here, I think. We're only still here because she's letting us, and that means she's willing to listen. She thinks what we're saying has merit, or wouldn't have been able to say it." His look to Raven is one between equals. "Tell me I'm wrong."

    "But you're right about Donna. Disciplined, trained, intelligent, fiercely protective. She's not opposed to this. But she's worried we're going to bring more death to the team. Or am I wrong about that?"

    He turns to Red X. "They think we're looking for crusaders, for fodder. They think we're here to recruit them for some kind of mission, and sacrifice them on a whim. Makes me wonder what kind of leadership they've been used to until now, that they're so distrustful."

    A few more steps and he turns, looking at the other Titans. "So, masks and shades. You're not wrong about that. I know what I am. And are you going to hold that against us, or are you going to do as your team and overlook the shadows and darkness to find the light that was offered within?" A half smile. "Or do I need to put my helmet back on?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Nobody is 'fixing' me, thank you very much. I will follow someone I respect. I would follow Wonder Woman to the ends of the eart. But one who resorts to name calling when I won't bend a knee within half an hour of meeting?" he reaches up into the air and a Rabbit Hole appears, dropping an Eight ball into his hand, which he shakes vigorously. "Outlook not so good," he says without looking at the object, and throws it over his shoulder, landing with a soft 'plop' on one of the couches.

The Cheshire cat stands up slowly, his eyes on Red X's hand and his eyes narrow. He keeps an event tone. "To lose composure may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose that and one's temper beside looks like carelessnes."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna tilts her head and raises an eyebrow at Sam. "The salmon cat is eager for guidance, but he knows the best teachers are those most willing to listen. The Gothic Princess thinks /you/ have more merit than what you're saying does. I'm not worried you'll bring death to the team, I'm worried you'll bring disharmony. And you're wrong that we're worried about you sacrificing us on a whim, rather we're worried that you won't live up to your potential."

    "See Techno, your analysis is great. Sharp, thoughtful, incisive. And based on faulty information." Donna glances at Red X for a moment. "When the information is faulty, the analysis falls apart. That's fine. You take on board the new information, you redo your analysis. You're not really /listening/ though Techno, so your judgment is faulty. This one though?"

    Donna's eyes return to Damian, looking at him more intently now. "He's listening. Oh... he doesn't like what he's hearing, and he's judging us too, but I think he's listening. Taking it in and adding it to his pool of information. I don't know how good he is at thinking past the frustration of it all, but I think he's trying to think on the run. Am I wrong there, Red X?"

    Her eyes go back to Sam, the expression less intense again. "As for the kind of leadership we're used to..." She gives a small nod of her head back towards Red X. "Ask him. I hear he knows Nightwing."

    "You know, when I turned up nine years ago I was far too sure of myself too. Sure that I knew best, and that everyone should listen to me." She glances at Raven, grinning a little sheepishly. "I mean why not? I was the one with all the training. I was probably a complete ass. I couldn't explain this to them at the time, but the truth is I have spent my life being trained to lead. One day my sister will become a queen, and I will be expected to be competent enough to lead the most experienced... 'army'... the world has ever known in her absence. Funny thing though. Nightwing is smart as hell and tactically brilliant." Donna's face breaks into an amused smile of reminiscence, and she looks away for a moment. "He was also pig-headed, obstinate, and far too sure of himself too, almost as much as me. But I quickly saw his tactical brilliance, and stopped arguing. Except when he was wrong, of course." She breaks into a grin.

    Donna's eyes snap back to the skull mask of Red X. "Assume you were ordering the tactics. Assume we all here know your methods. We five are standing right where we are standing. The window to the right shatters and three demonic beings enter. No data on what they are. The door behind you is blasted open by fire, two more demons and a robed and hooded figure enter. You have seconds to think. What are your instructions?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Red X's gaze turns to Donna as she speaks. >tt< can be heard from the voice mod in the helmet.

  The hand removes itself from the belt, and rests at his side. "I would have techno and you occupy the demons beside the hooded figure, myself, and that one taking on the three close to the window, and Raven takes the one in robes, who most likely is a mage if some kind. Separate the body guards from the ring leader, and take him out. Most likely when he is out of the picture the others will fall."

  Red X looks to Troia, and gives a firm nod. "Barring any unforeseen changes, you all are knowledgeable enough to improvise and communicate as needed.

Rachel Roth has posed:
    There is a whole lot of silence from Raven- but that silence is bound to end. Donna speaks up first, but Raven is ready to reinforce when necessary. "She's right." she responds, taking a moment to actually reach up, and pull her hood back- exposing the rest of her face, and the small jewel resting on her forehead.

    "What you don't seem to understand is not that I over or undervalue either of you. I value -that- you are, I care that this place becomes a home for people -like- you. That need help. Sometimes that's help coordinating. Sometimes it's learning to use the gifts that have been given. Sometimes it's understanding that the past leaves wounds, and helping to heal them. I don't think what you're saying has much merit- we are not soldiers. We are not fighting a war. Many of those who come here couldn't find themselves in that kind of conflict in a way that you would be happy with. People come to us with no training, having just been granted the ability to punch holes in steel or -worse.- To treat them like soldiers would be to invite -disaster.- Like flinging any child into a war they didn't ask to be part of. What I think -does- have merit is -you-. -Both- of you. Your potential. What you could be, and what you could do, if you were allowed to work and to heal from wounds you may not even know you have."

    There is another lingering silence. Raven walks away, then, over to a wall from which hangs a poster. It depicts the Titans- the Old Titans, in the form of a newspaper piece that was blown up to show them.

    "I was fourteen. We were all very young. We failed, sometimes. Once, majorly. It was hard to pick up the pieces. I do not think you look for crusaders or fodder, but I feel that you want to militarize -this.-" She states, then, widely regarding the lobby of the tower.

    "If you tried, worse, if you succeeded, you would cause more harm than good. We would lose more lives. That does not mean we cannot use -discipline-, but this -must- be a home -first-. A -family- first."

    She approaches, then. The oppressive aura is gone, for the most part. Raven is... Otherworldly, and being in her presence is not something that is easy to handle without some baptism.

    "The question is whether you can -accept- that- no, perhaps, whether you can be -part- of that. Both of you."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    There's a moment of reflection, and Sam first looks at Red X, then at Donna, finally at Raven and Vorpal. His right eyebrow raises for a moment, and then he takes the helmet out from under his arm, holding it at arm's length with the faceplate towards him. It's almost classic Othello. "See, Horatio, just when you think you can't be surprised anymore..."

    The levity drops for a moment, and the helmet is lowered, held by the plate that locks the assembly to the plastron collar. "It's fair though. You've been taught to lead armies. Me, I've led missions. Different qualities, different challenges. I'm not so dense that I don't know I don't know it all. The day you stop learning is the day you die, right?"

    And so he stalks again to the pizza, putting down his helmet on its side rather carelessly, and tucking into another slice... sitting down, as well, in as casual a posture as the armor permits. "Besides, I'm not here to take over, I've said that. Honestly, I don't think I can. I mean, aside from the fact that I'd have gone for the hooded figure first and then probably get my ass handed to me by some kind of magic nonsense. Can't wrap my head around magic." He looks over to Vorpal while taking a bite out of the slice. "Just weird, am I right?" Probably the wrong audience, moving on...

    "Me, I'm too broken to guide a family. Be part of one, sure, would love to. Seriously, trust me on that, I'd like nothing better. Train people, easy. Give them confidence, absolutely. Teach them to be proud of their achievements, you bet. But lead? No. That's where he..." a slight pause... "... where my friend shines. He grabbed me when I was drifting loose, turned me into someone better. Honestly, if I was going to militarise this..." and that is said with a look over to Raven, sliding a pizza box in her direction "... or anything for that matter, I'd just end up like my helmet. A blank face with no capacity for emotion that's eventually going to crack. I'd rather be something better."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal doesn't respond to the remark directed at him, rather he turns his face away, ears slightly turned back, as he reaches for the tea pitcher and pours himself another glass. Then he turns his attention to the conversation, glancing at each interlocutor in turn with the kind of expression that Lady Gaga wrote a hit single about. When things are said and done, he walks to the pizza boxes and picks up two of them, his body language the epitome of poise.

With a low, mellifluous voice that doesn't match his tabula rasa of an expression, he says "The Mad Hatter's assistant is going to take these to the kitchen so that Koriand'r and Garfield have something to eat later. I may return presently."

He turns on his heel and passes through a Rabbit Hole that leads to the kitchen. He had another motive aside from putting the pizzas away: biting his tongue and counting to sixty.

As the Rabbit Hole closes behind him, and having the kitchen all to himself, he opens the refrigerator and jams the pizzas inside.

"Mad Hatter's Assistant indeed!" Box one flies in, almost knocking over a jar of milk, "Fix me, indeed! Mad? I ought to open a hole to the Jabberwock's lair and give them mad, alright! Oh he would fix their little red wagon! Hrrrrrrr!"

He pauses and looks at the jar of milk.

He looks around.

The jar of milk leaves the refrigerator and he pours himself a glass. He starts drinking.

Sixty... fifty-nine... fifty-eight...

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna studies Red X closely when he goes through his plan, and when he's done her lips curl up into a smile. "Splitting the two of you, because you want someone you already /know/ in each group. And you named the right pairings, too..." she smirks slightly in the direction of Vorpal's retreating back as he rabbit holes away with pizza, but doesn't detail just why she considers it the right pairings. It should be pretty obvious from the cat's words now, after all. " You chose the flank to be outnumbered because you know where the hammer must fall, and you put yourself on the flank rather than at the van, because you trust yourself most of all and are confident you can maintain that flank. You realized it was more important to secure it than to be personally at the front of the action. Also you're aware you don't know our capabilities well enough and it would be a mistake to try second-guessing."

    Donna takes a slow, deep breath. Her eyes move around the room as if she's pacing out the battle in her head. After a few moments she turns to catch Raven's eye, and gives a slight nod of her head.

    "Vorpal thinks fast, innovates, but he's raw. Hawkeye has real leadership potential, but no experience, not..." she gestures towards Damian. "Not this. Everything he said was right, and it wasn't luck. Wasn't guesswork. He didn't miss a step."

    Donna looks back to Red X, and gives him a nod. Then to Sam, and gives /him/ a nod, too. "Rae, we can't explain this to them," she says, her eyes still on the young assassins. "We can only give them the opportunity to discover it for themselves. If they don't discover it, they won't be Titans and we all move on, no harm done. If they do... they are something we need. Something the new roster is missing. There are things they need to learn, but there is also much they can teach."

    Donna stretches her arms out, fingers interlocked. "Which leaves one thing. You two violated this place, and then you ask for the keys. We would be remiss if we did not make very certain of your intent, yes?" She gives them a smile. "Simple. We can put that behind us and move on. I cannot force the truth from you the way my sister can with her lasso, but I have my own divine gifts. Tell me now that you mean no harm to the Titans and genuinely wish to join our cause. The truth of a statement freely given cannot be hidden from me. "

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Red X seems to relax more as Donna examines his strategy. She analyzed it down to a T. "Correct. The ingress was on a highly defended location. The strategy here would be defense first, offense when there is an opening." He walks closer to Techno, and looking to Donna.

  At Raven, he does not say much but the anger behind him is quelled, enough for rational thought. "I disagree. War comes in informal means. One does not need to be a soldier to be in one. And for better or worse, each of those here are warriors. Wether or not we like it. We vow to fight against those who would do the world harm. Semantics aside, the goal here should be to be as best prepared for the unknown. As for wounds, I only have scars." At least it is a consolation, admitting in a small way that there is something there.

  I do not aim to harm the Titans." Short, and to the point. Much like himself.

Rachel Roth has posed:
    Raven's expression remains as neutral, of course, as it ever had been- save for the distaste she'd been showing previously. That hasn't returned, necessarily. Vorpal leaves, and Raven doesn't necessarily watch him go. She can feel the turmoil, so she simply lets it be. It'll work itself out.

    For the moment, the pizza is untouched. Whether Raven needs to eat is a question unto itself, and the patterns of it aren't revealing, even unobserved.

    There is, though, that pointed silence from her. Words require preparation. "Broken things can be mended. Scars can be healed. This is a place for that."

    Looking again, at the poster- the set of them, all looking heroic- several in different colorful, hopeful costumes. Raven looks downright like a sorceress, Dick was still Robin- it's an old picture, depicting what the Titans should look like. A stark contrast to now, but a hopeful one.

    "You'll learn. In time."

    It seems, for now, that is all she has to say on the matter- but it isn't a refusal, and it's not the words of a Raven still in mourning.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    From person to person, face to face, Sam follows the conversation, giving Vorpal a shrug as he moves off via means unknowable and probably best left unexplored. How deep does the rabbit hole go? Red pill not included. The whole analysis of the battle plan makes him raise his eyebrows again, eventually just shaking his head. That's the kind of thing he can write down, and conceptualize, but to put it into words is much harder. He's never been required to explain, only to do.

    "The whole soldier and warrior thing, pretty sure that's just a matter of conflicting definitions. But there's no point in trying to settle that debate now." A look between Red X and Donna. It's her question that he answers, after a moment of reflection in the strands of melted cheese on a pizza pie.

    "If I wanted to harm the Titans, you wouldn't have known until it was far too late." For what it's worth, he certainly seems to believe that. "But to answer the question, no. I don't mean harm to the Titans. As for joining, I've got nowhere else to go. Nowhere that would welcome me, at least."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
When Vorpal returns, it is with a glass of chocolate milk in hand. He returns not by Rabbit Hole but via the elevator, and he does not resume his old position but stands by Donna and Raven. "So what was the outcome?" he asks, his tone remains melodious and his expression sphynx-like. By all purposes, he looks like he is chatting idly at a cocktail party.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna listens carefully to the words from Techno and Red X, and when they are done she seems to think about it for a few moments before nodding to herself. Apparently they passed.

    She nods her head to Damian, a lower nod than she'd given before, and there is a definite sense of /respect/ there. Sam gets an arch of the eyebrow and a wry smile. "On Themyscira there is a saying?" she tells him. "How to translate it? Hmm. Something like 'You can smell both honey and shit on the wind, but everyone stands downwind of the honey.' You are very intelligent, Techno. But intelligence is only worth the knowledge you have to apply it to. There are things which perhaps a life such as yours has deprived you of the opportunity to learn. That will change here. Grasp the opportunity with both hands."

    Donna steps up beside Raven, resting a hand on the sorceress' waist, looking at the poster. "It's something that some of us needed more than others, and some of us didn't even know we needed. But even those who had a family already came to value it beyond words. Perhaps these two need it more than most, but perhaps too they don't understand what it means, what they are missing. If they don't come to accept it, they won't be Titans, because this is what we /are/. But I believe you are right. They will learn, in time."

    Donna gives a light squeeze, and turns away. "An accommodation, Vorpal," she says with a smile to the chocolate-drinking cat. "A recognition of values. We will see."

    "Red X. You will need to take off your mask, eventually." Donna smiles at him. "That's not an ultimatum, the choice is yours. But it is a prediction. I cannot speak for the whole team, but as far as I am concerned, welcome to the Titans. For now, at least."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     While the others converse, Damian takes a moment to look at the poster of the original Titans. Dick, standing in his Robin uniform. He didn't need to take off his helmet, after an initial reaction, a rearing of his head as if to reel back from shock. Then seconds later, a visible exhalation as he looks it over.

  "In time." He says, turning to look at Donna. "For now, you seemed to hit the nail on the head." When she mentioned Nightwing. It wasn't some punk kid that lifted that T-Com off of the human equivalent of a golden lab, Dick would have never fallen for that, even with his giant heart.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Green eyes look from Raven to Donna quickly, and then glance at Red X and Techno with deliberate slowness. He takes a sip from his glass in silence, as if taking time to absorb and contemplate this development, his expression one of detachment.

"Understood, then," he adds in response to Donna and Raven. The remnants of the glass are swished around and finally consumed in a final gulp. "I will leave a message for Victor to inform him that we will presently have need to repurpose one of the empty rooms into a creche, then."

And with that, he turns back and heads for the elevators.