16391/Titans3023: Well This is Complicated.

Titans3023: Well This is Complicated.
Date of Scene:	22 November 2023
Location:	The Travel Sphere
Synopsis:	Caitlin and Donna talk to Caitlin and Donna. Caitlin forgives Donna for things Caitlin hasn't forgiven Donna for, while Donna tries to protect Caitlin from Caitlin. Time travel is fucking bullshit.
Cast of Characters:	Donna Troy, Caitlin Fairchild

---

Donna Troy has posed:
    A Titan Travel Sphere is not like most ships, except possibly ones that look like blue phone-boxes. They don't normally travel in time, that required a little extra from Kronos, the master sorcerer-scientist behind the device, but as this voyage shows it's a possibility. It's a whole lot bigger on the inside than the outside. It's also telepathic -- more so in fact than a TARDIS, because it doesn't have conventional controls at all. It navigates according to where the person it's attuned to desires to be, it moves through the power of will and ideas via its 'eidolon drive' rather than using reaction mass or mass warping, and its relationship to the universe as a whole is more mental than physical.

    There's a lot of raw emotion on board right now, and the ship feels it. The ship's pilot feels it. Just as the journey is hard on many of those taking it, not least on Wally, Irie and Caitlin, in some cases more than one instance of each, the journey becomes hard for the ship itself and its pilot. There have been tears and drama, and as much as Troia has kept out of it so far, she finds herself in the center of it. Normally piloting the ship is as simple as wishing to be somewhere else. Adding a when to the equation makes it harder. Doing it in a such a febrile environment makes it a headache.

    Troia stands in silence at what must be counted at least for the moment as the control console, though it has no controls on it. Her hands rest lightly on the warm, slightly texture hardness of the curved surface, and she's doing her very best to try to ignore what is going on around her. Muffled sounds of heartfelt conversations, often more audible to her sensitive hearing than the participants might wish or realize, have been taking place all around. She blocks them out, because to listen in would be to exacerbate the emotional turbulence.

    She has known as long as the voyage started that this relative peace was not going to last for long, that at some point she would be drawn into the whirlpool. There has been respite, though, while people processed; enough to steer the ship through the emotional storm and make the /idea/ of the correct destination too clear to the ship to be confused. Hopefully.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Someone clears their throat behind Troia's dignified position. It's Caitlin-- young Caitlin, a Caitlin who still has the starry-eyed wonder of youth in her green eyes.

"Hey, um... Hi, Donna," she says with a little sheepish expression. "I'm sorry about earlier," she says, and gestures vaguely over her shoulder. Caitlin and Donna 2023 had been having a heart-to-heart before Troia approached and requested they rein their emotions in.

"I mean, disturbing the peace. I didn't realize how sensitive the ship's controls are. I'm-- I'm fine," she hastens to reassure the Titan, and holds her palm aloft in apology. "I mean, /I'm/ fine. I can't speak to my, uh, future self."

Her throat bobs once with a dry swallow. There is something positively imperious about Future Donna. It's a little like talking to Hippolyta. Or Batman. Caitlin withers a little under Troia's implacable gaze.

"...So... Time-Ship, huh?" she asks with a weak tone of voice. "That's pretty cool. Is it like the TARDIS?" she asks with a hopeful expression. "Is this something you do a lot, this kind of--" she gestures vaguely. "Time travelling?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    Troia lets the younger Caitlin babble, doing /absolutely nothing/ to rescue her. Definitely something Batman like there, Hippolyta is far more merciful. This is not like the Donna Caitlin knows. It's not like the alternate Troia Caitlin has met before either -- both, in their own very different ways, were quite expressive. This future Troia of a thousand years hence is clearly no fan of letting her feelings show.

    "Troia," she corrects Caitlin gently. "I don't go by the name Donna any more. It... saves confusion." The statement sounds loaded, but there's no context for Caitlin to understand why. "I doubt you're fine, Caitlin. You've had a pretty major shock. I'm sorry if I came across harsh back there. I... no. I don't time travel regularly. We generally avoid doing that as much as possible. This is a special circumstance, it's full of pitfalls, and I had to ask for my uncle's permission and help to do this."

    Troia glances at Caitlin, and her inscrutable blankness falters for a moment, though whatever emotion it is that flickers across her features is no easier to read. "The Travel Sphere is psychic, Caitlin. It operates best when everyone inside it is calm and clear-headed. I certainly don't blame you for not being so in the circumstances, but it does make piloting harder. "

    Troia's fingers brush the console gently, almost as if she was giving a reassuring pet to some animal, and she looks back with a smile. "I think you said that the very first time you saw the interior of this ship, Caitlin. 'Just like the TARDIS' or something like that. Maybe it was the second time."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"I did?" Caitlin stares at Troia with a vacant expression while trying to dredge up the non-existant memory. When she realizes Troia is referring to /her/ Caitlin, the redhead's eyes widen and she makes a soft 'ohhh' of understanding. It's punctuated with a comprehending nod of her chin.

The smile clearly puts Caitlin a little more at her ease, and she takes it as an invitation to stand closer to Troia's location so the goddess isn't obligated to look over her shoulder at the redhead. Still, Caitlin's very careful about not touching something, because apparently, everything can do something on the marvelous time-ship.

"I was telling ...Donna," she says, carefully, "it was pretty cool to see that we're still going on adventures a thousand years in the future. I was--" she gestures fitfully. "I wanted to go talk with myself about the whole... Irie thing," she clarifies. "From the sound of it, I was-- /Caitlin/ was, not at all expecting her. But you two are from my future. Shouldn't she have memories of meeting Irie as a kid?" she posits. "I was hoping you could kinda break it down for me," she says. "Donna took a stab at it but we're also making a lot of informed guesses just going off observational data," she points out. Outwardly she looks fairly calm, but she is using her thumb to crack the knuckles of her fingers one at a time to keep from jittering nervously in place.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Troia frowns slightly, and takes a few moments to formulate her answer. "Irie went back in time from... what was it, 2040 or so? Prior to 2040, she had not gone back in time, and her being around twenty years previously is something that hadn't actualized. I can't really explain it to you better than that without going into details that are somewhat speculative even to me, and which you certainly shouldn't know yet."

    She reaches out to give Caitlin's arm a gentle squeeze, a gesture so familiar from present-day Donna. "I'm sorry, I know how confusing that it. That's the thing about time travel. It's always confusing, and never exactly intuitive. Time travel means that cause can follow effect, and thus that things can have already happened despite not having happened yet. It's probably easier to see time as being contiguous rather than continuous. An ocean rather than a river.

    Troia takes a deep breath and exhales hard, an almost-but-not-quite sigh. "The short answer is that even though we are you, we didn't experience everything that you experienced. Time travel makes that possible. Seeing Irie was a huge shock to my Caitlin."

    Troia lets that sit for a few moments, lapsing back into stoical inscrutability. "We... don't generally go on adventures any more. It's a big galaxy, and most of the time we're at different ends of it dealing with different problems," she explains carefully. "We're still friends, but somewhat estranged. The future you that I know doesn't entirely approve of some of the decisions I have made. Though I think it's more..." Troia stops herself with a shake of her head. "No, doesn't matter. I shouldn't say more. Even apart from timeline considerations it would not be fair of me to impact your future perceptions in that way."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Estrang--" Caitlin blinks and frowns heavily, a combination of regret and sympathy for Troia's position. "I'm-- I'm so sorry," she gets out, and reflexively gives Troia's forearm a gently apologetic squeeze. "I didn't know things were... so fraught," she admits. "But I mean--" she looks around, then back at Troia, and spreads her hands in mute appeal. "I'm not your Caitlin, but I'm still /Caitlin/." A plaintive look crosses her fair features. "And you're still Donna. I can't believe I'd ever get to the point where I'm estranged from my bestie."

It's at that moment that Future Caitlin steps onto the bridge, and she gives her younger self a chilly look. "It's complicated," she says, echoing Troia's tone in her admonition to the younger woman. The older Caitlin looks like she's had herself a good cry, though she's not the splotchy mess the younger Caitlin makes of herself when she's been sad. "And the momentum of the event-- of /Iris/ coming to your timeline-- means that there's a non-zero possibility that she won't be born in your timeline, -at all-." The older Caitlin starts to speak again, then visibly swallows her words and instead clenches her hands into fists for a moment. Whatever was on the tip of her tongue, it was vitriolic.

"As for the estrangement, it's going to happen to you anyway, so there's no point in hiding it," she tells her younger self. "The day will come when Donna decides to abandon her family and friends and become Troia. One of the Titans."

Younger Caitlin's eyes widen at that pronouncement, and she looks at Troia with a wonderous expression. "Oh, COOL!" Caitlin says. "I'm so happy you reconnected with your Olympic family!"

That reaction sets the older Caitlin back on her heels, blinking in absolute surprise at her younger self.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Trapped in the middle of two such contrasting reactions from two versions of the same person separated only by something so minor as time, Troia barely knows how to react and the sheer incongruity draws a momentary laugh from her that she fights to suppress quickly.

    "What your future self says is true," Troia tells the younger Caitlin. "But don't let it disturb you. Iris /was/ born. It has already happened. That won't change, and there is little danger of Iris fading from existence and from team photos like in that old film. That takes a more radical shift in the timelines. However it is also possible that you won't experience it. As counter-intuitive as that sounds, it's not impossible that's the way it will work out. After all you encountered Iris travelling back in time, and spent years with her in the Twenty-twenties, even though /she/..." a nod of the head towards the older Caitlin, "...did not."

    Troia turns her attention to the console in front of her, studying it hard as if there was anything other than the blank white surface in front of her. "I was always a Titan," she points out, presumably to the older Caitlin, though perhaps in part breaking her own previous self-admonition about not impacting the younger Caitlin's future perceptions. "I just denied a part of myself for a very long time."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
While younger Caitlin celebrates Troia's success, her older counterpart watches them with a somewhat baffled expression. Troia might even notice that the hard lines at the corners of Caitlin's lips have smoothed out. When Troia speaks, there's no hostility in her former friend's eyes. Perhaps finding Irie again has cured some of the bitterness long left to fester in Caitlin's heart.

"I know you're a Titan," the younger Caitlin reminds Troia. "I mean, subjectively. We found out not long ago. There was a whole thing. Queen Hippolyta told us," she says, looking from Troia to her self, then back to Troia. "I mean, we didn't know what the full scope of that was, but we all knew that Donna wasn't just another Amazon. I'm... sad," she admits, "to hear we went our separate ways, but--" she gestures between Troia and Future Caitlin. "Friendships should be able to work around those kind of things," she says. A little naieve maybe, and over-hopeful, but sincere. A quality Future Caitlin abandoned long ago. "That's the point of friendships. It's about overcoming obstacles together."

Finally, the elder Caitlin sighs wearily and shakes her head-- more contending the argument itself rather than attacking it logically. "It's easy to say that, but you weren't there," she tells her younger self. Caitlin 2023 frowns at the tone of voice her elder counterpart employs. "We'll see if you handle it any better when Donna ditches you."

"Hey, just because you screwed it up, doesn't mean me'n Donna will," Caitlin says with a stubborn irritation. She pokes her sternum with her thumb. "Donna would never give up on me, so I won't ever give up on her."

Donna Troy has posed:
    With the two Caitlins arguing amongst themselves, Troia seems at first more than content to stay out of it. Were the younger Caitlin less distracted by the discussion, she would probably observe that Troia seemed if anything more comfortable with her than with the presence of her own contemporary Caitlin, and that might be telling. She is not able to stay out of it completely, though.

    "I haven't given up on her either," Troia says with her eyes still fixed on the blank console. She leans forwards, both hands resting on the surface. "But I will not deny that I have hurt her. Or at least that the decisions I have taken have hurt her. Don't judge your future self, Caitlin. You haven't experienced what she has experienced yet."

    "We followed different paths," Troia says, looking up at the pair of Caitlins. "And we are both different people from who we were when... when we were you. What we had -- what you /have/, meant the world to both of us. She resents me for taking that away. We never used to have secrets and now we do, and she resents that. She resents me no longer being there for her, because she feels the pain of it too sharply to recognize it is the consequence of what brought us together in the first place. She resents me growing up. "

    "What path /did/ you take?" the voice is the same, though the accents differ. Troia's accent has become something of a melange, though traces of the American-hinted Themysciran that marks the new voice are still evident. Donna steps out from behind a bulkhead, to stare at her future self. "What decision did you take... did /I/ take?" she demands of Troia. "I would never abandon Cailtin. What happened?"

    Troia throws her hands up and shakes her head. "No. No, I'm not having this conversation. /We/ are not having this conversation. This is the kind of conversation that gets the TVA on our backs again."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin and Donna look at each other with bafflement. They share puzzled expressions, then in unison look at their elder counterparts.

"What's the TVA?" they ask, practically in stereo.

"The Time Variance Authority," the elder Caitlin explains with a weary sigh. "They're a bunch of self-righteous, self-appointed assholes who think it's their job to protect the continuity of various timelines."

Caitlin looks sidelong at Donna and mouths, 'Did I just say that?', and wrinkles her nose at Elder Caitlin's profanity.

But, her future counterpart is plunging along, and she speaks to younger Donna directly. "With Irie being in your timeline, things are already divergent. There's not much point in keeping secrets. So I'll tell you what happened: One day, /Donna/--" she points at Troia-- "walked in and said 'It's my destiny to save the universe, and I am going to live with my family on New Kronos to make it happen'. I begged her to stay with me. Or move to Themyscira at least. I even offered to travel there with her. She said she 'had to do it alone' and that I was...that /we/, were ... a distraction." There's a peculiar emphasis to the 'we' that Donna might pick up, but flies right over Caitlin's head. Though the elder Caitlin's mood has settled tremendously, bringing up this old topic tears wounds that have not fully healed.

There's a moment of quiet and then the younger Caitlin speaks up. "What the actual fugnuggets is wrong with you?" she blurts at her elder self. "You're saying you've been nursing a grudge for how many centuries, because our /best friend/ made the ultimate sacrifice?" she demands. "Golly good Christmas, I can't believe I turn into such a miserable, bitter old cow," she says, fuming.

Caitlin looks at Donna. "If I turn into /that/, then I'm apologizing to you right now and you get full permission to ditch me. Blank cheque, no judgement or explanation required."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Or alternatively a group with access to very advanced temporal tech who have chosen to dedicate their lives to protecting time the way we protect space," Troia offers as an alternative explanation to the younger pair's question of who the TVA is. It may seem to the 2023 Titans that this is one more indication of the differences between their future selves that they could offer such radically different takes on it, though Troia's follow-up suggests it's more complicated than that. "Depending on which version of them exists at any relevant point of your personal time-streams."

     "Don't judge her -- judge yourself -- too quickly, Cait," Troia says to the younger version of her old friend. "You don't know the full story. I made a sacrifice, but part of what I sacrificed was /us/. That was my choice alone, but you had to pay part of the price too. I did what I had to do, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt other people."

    "Bullshit!" Donna yells. She steps closer, standing side-by-side with the younger Caitlin. Though she doesn't think it consciously, it is an instinctive thing for the pair to stand beside each other in the face of adversity, even if the adversary is yourself. Oddly while the younger Caitlin is taking the older Troia's side, the younger Troia seems to be more sympathetic to the older Caitlin. "Caitlin isn't a distraction, she's our /friend/. Why couldn't you go to save the universe alongside her? It's what we /do/."

    Troia shrinks into herself under the criticism from her younger self, and her features revert to the Batman-like stoicism she had evinced before. "Troia -- 'Donna'. " The speech marks around the name are audible in her voice. "You know who we are, but you don't understand yet. Remember our childhood playing in the fields of Themyscira, how much you admired Artemis? Well you met your virgin huntress..." she gestures towards the younger Caitlin, "... and you founded your own little pantheon of Titans in echo of the truth you were hiding from yourself. And it was good -- for a while it was great, and you did good things. But you were young. You /are/ young. It's normal. Lion cubs play with each other in imitation of the lions they are destined to become. Growing up... growing up /hurts/. When you finally realize that Artemis and Apollo are not your gods, they are your nephew and niece, once what that /actually means/ gets into your head, you'll understand the choice I had to make. Then the longer you hold on to the comforts of your youth, the stronger the bonds you form with mortals, even very long lived mortals, the more it will hurt you and hurt them too when you do finally become a lion. Don't blame me -- us -- for the decision I made. Blame us for taking so long to make it."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
A proud thrill trills Caitlin's spine at her Donna's outrage. And just as Donna shoulders up with Caitlin, Caitlin shoulders up with Donna. She seems perhaps a little less inclined to throw a punch, but all the same, she looks like she's ready to throw down with the hordes of Hades if Donna starts throwing hands.

Troia finishes her diatribe and a silent beat passes. Caitlin looks at Donna, then carefully digs a five dollar bill out of her belt pouch and hands it to Donna, mouthing 'for the jar'. She clears her throat and holds an index finger aloft.

"I second the bullshittery!" she sputters. Perhaps the third time... ever.. that Caitlin has uttered a profanity. "This is absolute bull hockey. /Your job/," she says, pointing accusingly at her future self, "was to look out for Donna. Not get all judgey and preachy and up your own /butt/ about it. Maybe if you were a better friend you wouldn't have boxed her in to the point where she felt like the only option was to pack up shop and leave. You don't just take that lying down, and you don't get all stupid about it," she says, properly fuming. "If Donna told me 'Hey I'm going off to be a demigod', I would pack a bag and follow her to the literal ends of the universe. Yeah maybe I don't agree with her methods, but friendship isn't real unless it exists under duress. I mean, for Heaven's sake, I'm only twelve and I've wielded literally Godlike power. How hard did you even try to find a way to keep up with her?" she asks, gesturing at Troia.

Caitlin huffs in indignation, then looks at Donna. "I mean, Future You is kind of myopic, but I really think this is on Future Me," she acknowledges. "Why--" she looks at her elder self, who is staring vacantly in the middle distance while trying to keep emotions of shame off her fair features. "Why are you taking her whole situation so-- so doggone /personally/?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Bull hockey?" Donna whispers back to Caitlin, in a slightly disbelieving voice. Trying not to draw attention to it, she hands the five dollar bill back to Caitlin.

    "The future you has a lot of responsibilities on Earth," Troia tells the younger Caitlin. "Responsibilities to Themyscira, responsibilities to the... the superheroes of Earth." It's obvious she was about to say something different, but corrected herself. "In our time Terrestrial civilization is no longer a newcomer to the galactic society. They /need/ Caitlin's experience. No human has more."

     Troia glances down at the control-less control console then steps away, leaning against a bulkhead. "She didn't box me in. Perhaps we were simply both boxed in by responsibilities. The truth is -- much as she..." Troia nods her head towards the future Caitlin, "...hates to admit it, she doesn't actually need me to fulfil her responsibilities. She does a fantastic job. And she couldn't really follow me. Not in a way which would be meaningful."

    "This all sounds like rationalizations and excuses," the younger Donna says. "Responsibilities can be shared. That's kind of the whole point of a friendship."

    "In a way we do. We are, essentially, still doing the same things. Just on a larger scale, so there's a larger distance between the various tasks that need doing."

    Donna shakes her head. "This... " She gestures with a hand to the two elder versions. "This isn't just a physical distance. You're in denial if you think it is. If it were you'd be happier to see each other when events brought you together again. Not... not whatever this is between the two of you. Maybe responsibilities are keeping you from being together, but it's you two who are keeping yourselves apart."

    "No, it's not just a physical distance. We're different people than we were. You're the one in denial, Donna. About who you are. I'm not you, I'm not Caitlin's old friend. I'm who you'll become when you stop pretending to be what you are not. When you stop pretending to be human. You don't know what it's like to be me, but I remember what it's like to be you. And I look back on the contradictions I used to ignore... that I went on largely ignoring for hundreds of years, and... you think you're less bound by responsibilities, by duty, that I am? No. That much hasn't changed. You just lie to yourself to avoid the inevitable destination those responsibilities will lead you to."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"...You think this is about me needing your /help/?" The elder Caitlin looks at Troia with a slack-jawed expression. "For chrissake, Troia, I--"

"HEY. LANGUAGE," the younger Caitlin snaps with an uncharacteristic anger. "Swearing's bad enough, but don't blaspheme in front of me," she scolds.

Elder Caitlin stares at her younger self, then rubs her brow as if fighting a migraine. "I forgot what a square I was at that age," she mutters.

Caitlin and Donna exchange A Look. There's an entire shorthand there. A conversation. The elder Caitlin finds herself looking enviously at the two younger women, and can't help but glance at Troia. That ability to communicate so effortlessly was something they'd lost centuries ago.

"Friendship and sisterhood aren't easy. They're hard. They're an awful lot of hard, embarassing work," Caitlin reminds the two Titans of the future. "You--" she points at Troia, then looks at Donna. "Sorry, Donna," she mumbles, and looks back at Troia. "YOU, are absolutely wallowing in pathos. Maybe it's 'cause you think you've gotta do it all alone, or you feel better if you're the one making the sacrifice, but there is-- Donna, I'm sorry," she tells her friend, "I love you but yes you sometimes get mired in this 'lonely hero' role."

Caitlin looks at her future counterpart. "YOU, you're holding an entirely unreasonable grudge against the most important person in your life," she scolds. "She made a hard decision and instead of supporting her, no matter how limited, you decided that you're really the victim here and you're taking all that out on D-Troia," she accuses. "Which is no wonder she is pushing back on you, because -all- you do is remind her that you think her sacrifice was a worthless one."

She takes a deep breath and lets it all out of her lungs at once, then puts her hands on her hips and stares at both of the future Titans.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Troia refuses to meet the younger Caitlin's stare. She lets her eyes drop to the ground, not with any hint of embarrassment so much as avoidance though.

    Donna gives a palms-up shrug. "I mean, feels like Cait hit the nail on the head here. Except for one thing." She tilts her head sideways, and arches an eyebrow at her Caitlin. "Cait, do you not... yes I sometimes feel the weight of the world on my shoulders, I admit that. But lonely? No.... no. Not since I was a child. I don't... I've got you and the other Titans. Do you not... don't you realize that... you're my rock, Cait. I must have told you that a hundred times. If I ever give you the impression that... well I'm sorry, I apologize for that. I never feel lonely."

    "No Donna, she's right," Troia says, looking up at her younger self. "You're just not really understanding what she's getting at. Or not self-aware enough yet. Sure you lean on her sometimes, but if she's really your rock, why are you so protective of her? Of all of them? You try to shield them all from the hardest things as much as you can. "

    "On the other hand," Troia continues, her eyes finding young Caitlin's now. "You're wrong that it's about sacrifice. It's about opportunity. It's not better than I'm the one making the sacrifice, it's that I'm the one who /can/."

    She takes a deep breath, and when she speaks again there's a change to her voice. It's still hers, but somehow the sound brings to mind warm summer moonlight. "I'm /Troia Krysostephanos/. I am Truth's warrior." The moment passes, and her voice returns to normal. "That is something only I can be, and it is not compatible with being Donna. One day she will understand, and I'm sorry that when she does, you will be hurt by the choice I had to make. I had the choice, but we both had the sacrifice. That's why you should not blame your older self. It was not fair on her. I had to choose, and I did not choose her. She has every right to be hurt by my choice."

    Troia falls silent for a moment, and takes a deep breath. She blinks a couple of times then glances towards /her/ Caitlin. "The swear jar," she says, smiling just a little. "Remember?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin stares at Donna for a beat when she's addressed, then just echoes her palm-shrug with an identical, mirrored gesture. Both of them are validating each other's position. But, she does step forward and give Donna a quick, reassuring hug all the same.

When Troia's voice breezes through the ship, the elder Caitlin glances away, not quite fast enough to hide a glimmering damp at the corner of her eyes. She has heard that dire pronouncement before, the night that that Donna Troy abandoned her name and took on the mantle of Troia.

It takes the elder Caitlin a beat to realize Troia's addressing her. A smile flickers across her face. Subtle, but sincere, and she nods at Troia. "There is one still in the Tower," she admits, softly. "In the conference room. I don't think anyone's contributed a credstick to it in years."

Caitlin looks at Donna and gives her arm a squeeze. "Listen. I don't care what these two did," she informs her sister-in-arms. A hand gestures vaguely at the two time-travellers from their future. "If the day comes when you've gotta run off and be Troia, I'll support you," she promises. "And I promise, I'll do everything I can to delay that sacrifice as long as humanly possible."

This offer seems to shake the elder Caitlin for a moment, and the look of consternation on her fair features is writ large with self-recrimination for how her idealistic younger self it taking this in stride.

"I need to... I need to think for a bit," elder Caitlin says, finally. She looks to Troia. "Could you.. Please," she amends, "would you sync the ansible up early? I ... I want to make a call while we're in transit," she admits. From the way she fiddles with the golden loop on her right ring finger, Troia can make a pretty good guess who Caitlin wants to talk to.

Donna Troy has posed:
"Maybe... when I've got some time I'll come visit the tower and swear a bit, just so the jar doesn't get lonely," Troia tells future Caitlin. Just a hint that maybe there's hope for a little rapprochement, perhaps. She nods her head at Caitlin's request. There will be comms available as soon as they arrive back in 3023.

    While the two older versions have their own understated exchange, the younger pair seem equally if more volubly intent on each other. "Cait," Donna says with a shake of her head. "I'm not... this whole Titan thing is... it's not me. Whatever this particular future version of me says, that's... I've got no interest. I'm Troia of Themyscira. I'm Donna. And I'm /content/ with that. More than content. The fact that I was born... that my birth mother is... I've never even /met/ her, Cait. Hippolyta is my mother. This is who I am, not that."

    Troia raises an eyebrow. "That's why my Caitlin was hurt so much," she says. "Because I kept telling myself that for so long. Hippolyta raised me as her own and I will always love her for it, but it's not who I am. It's not who /you/ are, Donna. If I were to do this over, I would... I would have stopped lying to myself and made the decision sooner. That way it would have hurt everyone less."

    Donna glances at Troia, shakes her head slightly, then looks back to Caitlin. "Cait, this... these versions of us, they're not our future exactly. The whole thing with Irie proves it. The older version of you didn't know Irie came back to us. These two aren't our future, exactly. " She squeezes Caitlin's arm and smiles wide. "We'll do better. I promise."

    Troia looks like she's going to say something, but changes her mind. The future versions have already told the present versions more than is sensible.

    "Talking of Irie..." Donna glances across the chamber in the direction she'd last seen Irie heading. "I..." she puffs her cheeks out and smiles. "You should be so proud of her. The way she's handled all this. Gods, I am. I... I'm glad the whole 'Auntie Donna' thing turned out to be... you know. I wonder if it has occurred to her that she could stay. With her mom, I mean." Far less inscrutable than her future self, Donna's expression absolutely fails to hide how much she hopes Irie does not.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"...What?"

Future Caitlin was fully prepared to just walk away and hide in her berth. Maybe call home to talk to a certain Amazon, or go find Lucky and pour her heart out on her shoulder.

Instead she stops and turns her head slightly. The question is asked and she turns in place, facing both Donna and Troia-- but looking at Troia with an expression of fearful hope in her damp green eyes.

The younger Caitlin looks sideways at Donna and gives her a worried look. Her older counterpart continues to stare at Troia and steps forward, lifting trembling hands in mute appeal. The towering redheaded general was one of the most well-experienced and formidable warriors in the galaxy, yet this single sidebar seems to have dashed any sense of emotional control she was getting.

"Troia, is it true?" she says through a hoarse, tightened throat. "I could..." she swallows dryly. "I could have my baby back?"

Both of the Caitlins hold their breath. Caitlin the younger shares Donna's expression of fearful disappointment, undercut with a subtle, second emotion. Anger, or perhaps more accurately, a sudden fierce protectiveness.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Troia looks at her old friend with a rare clarity of expression; sympathy. "On our first time around, Iris never came back to the Twenty-twenties," she says. "If she stayed in our time, it would probably just be closing the loop. Creating a closed Moebius branch-line. But why are you asking me? You could do the analysis yourself and answer your own question."

    She tilts her head slightly to the side. "Or are you asking me to tell you what will happen if she does choose to stay in our time? That's not really how it works, Cait. It's more... I can tell you what will happen. If you ask, I can speak on the lines of Truth, as they exist now. "

    Her eyes defocus for moment, then snap back. "I would not advise you to ask me that."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
The elder Caitlin gathers her dignity around her and lets her hands drop. She straightens up and stares hard at Troia. History is replete with examples of those reckless enough to invoke Fate, in one garb or another. To demand answers to questions that shouldn't be asked. None of those dire examples from history seem to be weighing on the grief-torn woman.

"Uhh..." Caitlin holds a hand aloft, gesturing at her future self. She can read Troia's grim demeanour and seems to take the warning in stride. "Maybe she knows something we don't," Caitlin tries to caution her older self. "We don't want to create any casual anoma--"

The elder Caitlin rolls her lips and puts her tongue between them. A series of trilling whistles emanates from her mouth, shrill and strangely modulated.

Donna looks over in time to see Caitlin shut down. Her eyes go vacant and her hand drops. Her posture slouches in relaxation and if she weren't breathing, she would look inert as a statute.

"You and I were bound to each other once, Troia. We were bound, and /I/ am owed. You owe me truth /and/ honesty. Touch those lines of truth and tell me how I can have my daughter back."

Donna Troy has posed:
    A thousand years hence, with the benefit of vast amounts of practice, Caitlin has become quite skilled at the bullets and bracers trick. A large part of it comes from anticipation. From reading the smallest of movements and predicting where they will lead. The skill she had developed was enough to compensate for the fact that while very fast, she didn't have the reaction speed of say a Donna or Cassandra. It is doubtful if even the reactions of Diana could have saved her from the shocking suddenness of Donna's acceleration, heightened by a fire of utter fury.

    It takes Donna about a second to process what has happened, to understand the implications of her best and oldest friend's sudden inertness, and to burn with outrage at the violation of the younger Caitlin's will by the elder. It takes a fraction of that for her to cross the space between her and the elder Caitlin, grab her by the throat, and slam her into the wall hard enough to make the alien material shudder with the impact. "Release her now," she hisses. "or I will..."

    Donna does not get the chance to finish her threat. Hissing "Gaia's sake" to herself Troia strides forwards, seeming to grow in stature as she closes on her younger self and the older Caitlin. She pulls Donna away from Caitlin effortlessly and tosses her upwards as easily as throwing a tennis ball. Her throwing hand remains in place, and a beam of golden light stabs out from her palm, pinning Donna against a curved bulkhead arcing overhead twenty feet above. She stares down at the elder Caitlin, slumped against the wall.

    "THREE TIMES BEFORE YOU DIE, CAITLIN FAIRCHILD. THREE DAYS WILL DAWN WHERE DECISIONS YOU MAKE MAY CALL YOUR DAUGHTER TO YOU, MAY KEEP HER BY YOUR SIDE. TODAY IS THE SECOND. BUT YOU WILL ONLY GET HER BACK THE FOURTH TIME."

    Troia holds the elder Caitlin's gaze for a few moments longer, then sighs and shakes her head. She releases the beam that was holding Donna to the ceiling, and Donna drops to the floor, twisting to land on her feet.

    Troia stamps back to the console, rests her hands on it a few moments staring down before looking back up. "Release her Caitlin, or I will. And all of you go. I have a ship to drive."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Donna's swift attack takes Caitlin by surprise. There is just no competing with her unearthly speed and grace. The attack knocks her off balance and her shoulderblades collide with the bulkhead behind her.

Despite that crushing grip around her throat, she slowly and deliberately turns a baleful gaze on Donna. Blue lights glimmer in her eyes and she flexes her neck and drops her chin, weakening Donna's grasp with an implacable strength.

Troia yanks Donna away and pins her against the ceiling. Caitlin straightens up and looks at Troia and the color bleeds from her face at the prophecy. Anger, then hurt washes over her face. "You won't even do this for me?" she says in a hoarse near-whisper. "After /everything/ we've had together, you can't even give me my daughter back?"

Her emotions are all over her face. Anger, sorrow, resentment, remorse-- but most especially pain. The pain of a broken heart being mended only to be broken again.

"Listen closely, Donna," Caitlin says, and looks over at her frozen, younger self. She whistles again, the tone more strident and angry this time. The paralyzed redhead shifts her posture. She coils in place, expression somehow vacant yet fixated at once. She lunges forward with that impossible acceleration of hers. Not as fast as Donna, no, but far faster than one would think someone of her stature is capable of.

Future Caitlin catches her counterpart with a effortless-looking stiff-arm, and whistles a third tune. Caitlin's posture relaxes and she blinks her way back to awareness.

"....I'm sorry, what was I saying?" she apologizes, looking at the others. For some reason, she doesn't seem particularly surprised to see Donna up there.

Future Caitlin looks at Troia, then at Donna. "Now you know," she tells Donna. "It's up to you to decide how to use that knowledge." She says it like she just delivered a book of black magic to Donna and told her to have fun with it.

Troia gets one more look too full of emotions to read, and then Future Caitlin turns on her heel and walks away from the trio.

After a few awkward beats, Caitlin looks to Troia. "...I'm really sorry about... that," she says, gesturing vaguely after Future Caitlin. "I hope I'm not like that /all/ the time."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "You demanded the Truth of me despite my warning," Troia calls out to the retreating form of the elder Caitlin. "I do not make the Truth, I only speak it. The rest -- you should ask that of your daughter, not of me. Her life is not mine to give."

    The younger Troia, Donna, simply glares daggers at the elder Caitlin's back as she wraps her arms around the younger Caitlin in a wordless, fiercely protective hug -- one which to the younger Caitlin probably seems rather inexplicable.

    "You do not need to apologize for things you haven't done yet," Troia tells Caitlin. "I knew this voyage would be very hard on her. It has opened very old wounds, she is not normally like this. You are seeing her at her worst. She is still a good person, and I still love her. One day she will heal, and will forgive me."

    Troia turns her attention back to the console. Her mind reaches out and merges with the semi-conscious mind of the ship, searching out engram corruption caused by the surging emotions of the ship's occupants, soothing the knots of artificial emotion, reminding the ship of the shape of her own mind, helping it to focus again on where she wills it to go, helping the distractions of other people's wishes and desires fade away.

    "Are you two still here?" Troia says, arching an eyebrow. "I recall telling you all to go. Let me concentrate on piloting. Time Travel is a delicate business.

    "Time travel is fucking bullshit," Donna replies, guiding Caitlin away from the control room.